My thoughts this morning are scattered and flitting about; some of them touch down softly, lightly gracing my mind as a butterfly landing on your sleeve; others sort of vwap right into the temple and veer off crazily like a kamikaze fly on a hot day. So, please bear with me as I try to gently wrap my arms around these dust motes of a mostly incomplete idea on a day when, like many others, I’ve had far too little sleep and yet am content and at peace in spite of the ever present ‘single-mom’ guilt of not quite measuring up to the expectations of the world…

The celebration of the New Year as a Catholic is vastly different from how we recognized this day for most of my life. This year was particularly quiet and simple; the boys and I just resting and relaxing at home over dinner; each doing their own quiet activity until we climbed into the car at around 10:30pm and headed to church for an hour of Adoration and Benediction followed by a glass of champagne and company… then home and to bed for a few brief hours before waking to get to Mass (there’s that Mom guilt – I let the boys sleep in, only to find that every other family got their kids up and to church without issue this morning).

Adoration is one of those events that I am always a bit mixed about; not because I don’t love being there, I do. It’s the conflicting anxiety I feel around how others might perceive me during and throughout; because, almost immediately upon Father placing our Lord into the monstrance, I am swamped with emotions that are difficult to explain or comprehend, and my eyes just start weeping. There are so many times I feel as though I, myself, have completely disappeared and instead I am experiencing the release of thousands of people’s pain and sadness; as though I were some kind of vessel for generations of aching questions and hurt and yet still loving.

I wonder at how it must seem to onlookers, this weepy middle-aged woman who, no matter what, cannot stem the flood of tears making tracks down her face, eyes reddened and swollen. Some good friends will laugh with happiness, understanding and compassion. Others politely skirt a wide berth (or so I feel) around the crazy lady. And I do wonder at my own sanity; I was certainly not raised to allow spiritual experiences to overwhelm my senses or ability to rationally and calmly sit. I wasn’t raised to experience spirituality at all; though, for me at least, once I opened the door in my heart to allow myself to believe (really and truly and deeply), there is no half measures to just how intensely I experience the Holy Spirit.

And so… so what?

In spite of being worried, constantly, about how others perceive and judge me, I am at peace this morning. In spite of seeing pictures of myself that someone snapped where I look… old… wrinkles cutting deeply, hair frizzing out in spite of best efforts at taming, my shape rounder and softer than it’s ever been… I think … maybe let go? Maybe this year I learn to let go of my fear of others’ thoughts. Maybe I learn to accept that people will be people and will think their thoughts… Maybe I can learn to not be so afraid of every person I meet, worried I’m some how all the things repulsive to others, that I have disappointed others with either my inability to control just how completely I abandon myself to the Holy Spirit, or my lack of following all the rules just right (sit now, stand now, kneel now; get your kids to church on time and dressed right and on the right days; say this prayer this way, and bow at this point, but not too much… – I can never quite get it right). Maybe, this year, I learn to accept that I weep, openly and fully when the Lord is on display; when the Holy Spirit is present; to allow myself to feel whatever is passing through and not worry so much about everyone else. Maybe this is how I learn to heal generations of wounds and trauma, is to just accept and to let go and to let Him take charge.

I know, fully and well, that we all have these fears and anxieties and worries. What I feel is not unique to me; but, I can only write from my own perspective without making assumptions about others. We all could stand to let go… to let go and then to trust that it will turn out alright. That’s not the same thing as no longer striving to be our best selves, to, to try to lean in and give back and give more of ourselves. But, to let go of the worries and anxieties of what someone else might think about those best efforts, and to trust that our Lord sees and knows and loves us for our efforts, for our desire to please Him for no other reason that He is our Father and through Him alone, all things are possible.

So. I’m resolving to try to let go a bit more. To trust when someone wants to take a picture. To not fret about how I react to my own developing spirituality. To park some of the guilt I feel when it’s too much for me to shake my kids out of bed when everyone else seems to be able to manage. To be okay with being me and to love others for who they are, where they are at and let go of the rest.

Wishing you the very best at the start of this new year. May the Lord bless you and keep you. May His face shine upon you and be gracious to you. May the Lord turn his face toward you, and give you peace.