Is there anyone who ever remembers changing their mind from paint on a sign? Is there anyone who really recalls ever breaking rank at all, For something someone yelled real loud, one time? Everyone believes, In how they think it ought to be, Everyone believes, And they're not going easily. Belief is a beautiful armor, But makes for the heaviest sword, Like punching underwater You can never hit who you're trying for …I also thought of St. Bernadette of Lourdes when she said, “My job is to inform, not to convince.” As I limped away slowly from the internet altercation, I decided that the best thing to do from here was to take my lacerations to Jesus in the Eucharist. And is my customary remedy; my wound care, I reread the Litany of Humility. O Jesus! Meek and humble of heart, hear me. From the desire of being esteemed, From the desire of being loved, From the desire of being extolled, From the desire of being honored, From the desire of being praised, From the desire of being preferred, From the desire of being consulted, From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus. From the fear of being humiliated, From the fear of being despised, From the fear of suffering rebukes, From the fear of being calumniated, From the fear of being forgotten, From the fear of being Ridiculed, From the fear of being wronged, From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, Jesus. That others may be loved more than I, That others may be esteemed more than I, That in the opinion of the world, others may Increase, and I may decrease, That others may be chosen, and I set aside, That others may be praised and I unnoticed, That others may be preferred to me in everything, That others become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. I prayed for the doctor, one ‘Our Father.’ I forgave him, as I prayed the ‘Our Father’; “As we forgive those who trespass against us.” Because I talk a lot, I figure that Jesus is doing his best at reminding me to listen, and not be compelled to defend myself, constantly. It is one way I must die to the flesh. I remember Sr. Faustina in her diary was gently told by her Jesus, not to defend herself. Isaiah 53:7 flashes through my brain:
Though he was harshly treated, he submitted and opened not his mouth; Like a lamb led to the slaughter or a sheep before the shearers, he was silent and opened not his mouth.Not that Jesus never explained, never taught, or turned over tables, but when it really came down to the crux of the matter … hmmm …the word "crux"? Is the meaning, the gist of "crux" derived from the word "crucifixion"? He spoke love through his Crucifixion. Have I grown a thicker skin? Maybe I’m a bit wiser, but my skin looks the same. Actually … I notice more blue veins in my hands, less elasticity. If God wills, one day, I’ll have old-lady, papery, fragile skin. I decide that Jesus never looked like an alligator. He handles all my cares and concerns. He’s got all his skin in the game to prove it.
Copyright 2018 Susan Anderson
About the Author
Susan Anderson is a wife and mother of six. Becoming Catholic at age 33, she is an avid fan of Mary and keeps her sanity through rosary prayer. She helps Rob, her husband, at Cactus Game Design, provider of Bible based games and toys. Her book, Paul’s Prayers, is about her oldest autistic son, which will be published March 6, 2018. To pre-order: http://goodbooks.com/titles/13642-9781680993479-pauls-prayers Her website: www.SusanAndersonwrites.com