You know… in my limited experience, Christians get a lot of flak from “non-believers” for their faith in God. Catholics, most especially, for their firm and unquestioned belief that the Holy Eucharist is the Lord Himself, His actual flesh transformed from a simple wafer on the altar.

And yet, those who self-identify as decidedly not Christian believe in all sorts of things… Oujia boards, holy chalices, ghosts, reincarnation, magick, and so much more. Far beyond my own limited knowledge that I can readily draw upon on a Friday night which follows a day that was hard, following a week that was filled with its own version of hard.

Today I had the unusual experience of a very decided answer from God. Yep. The God. Kind of hard to ignore.

You see, I’ve been… backsliding when it comes to writing. My personal life took a turn for the chaotic about two months back, and I needed time (I need time, this is not a past tense kind of thing – I AM working through some stuff and it is hard and it is chaotic and it is not good). But things happen, day by day, and I would think quietly to myself… should I write about this? But, the day would slip by me; stress compounding on stress. I find myself sliding into tears over the smallest things; over songs reminding me that through all this – He is still here with me.

Last week I developed headaches, profoundly stabbing painful things when brushing a specific tooth that has a filling. So, of course, I took myself off to my dentist. The filling was less than a year ago, and not for a cavity but to fill a gap that was problematic and gathering seeds and nuts and kernels from corn; so I blamed the filling for the headaches. The dental assistant listened to my story of painful woes and Advil consumption and made all the proper sympathetic noises as she laid the chair back and handed me some sunglasses. She admired the cleanliness of my teeth, the quality of my flossing, took X-rays and hmmed and fussed… The dentist came in and examined that filling thoroughly, also complimenting my flossing skills and good strong teeth. The verdict. Lady. You.Are.Stressed.Out – time for a night guard, but call in a week to decide for sure (thank God for a fantastic employer and good insurance for all of this – single parents cannot afford to be frivolous with this stuff).

But, more than my personal woes, I felt my days these past months filling with a kind of quiet despair. My children’s mental health visibly failing right in front of my eyes. No parent who loves their children wants to see their teenage son break down in sobs while he laments the state of things. Every parent would fret right along side me when their younger son is surly and angry and demanding and whiny, and when pressed would shoot back angry words asking why do you care, what are you looking at, stop looking at me, I haven’t done anything… and then slip quietly into your bed at 3am for the comfort of your presence.

I can’t share with you all the ‘why’ behind these things. The why is horrible and unfair and chaotic and … just. so many things.

So – I’ve been praying. Not proper praying. I haven’t found the energy, the will to go and kneel at Adoration, though we have a chapel here for use at any time. I feel His call, and I feel ashamed of myself – somehow a failure as a human being even though I didn’t cause this current situation, I feel somehow responsible and needing to find ways to save us all from imminent poverty and disaster.

And. As I write that last sentence I’m fully lecturing myself… O. You silly woman. NO. Give It Up to HIM.

How easy is it to say? How easy is it to do? Not so easy.

And So. HE has intervened. He has been listening to me fretting. Wondering. Oh God. What do I do? What do I write? How can I write? I have no answers. Not for anything. I have no hope to offer others. No solutions. No magic bullets. No super duper prayers that solve it all. I have zero memes.

I am so TIRED of memes.

Someday I hope to have the freedom to write it all down. ALL of it. The full story and share it. I can’t until … I can close the doors on my past. I’m told in many ways that I may not, even anonymously, share my story just yet in full. But it will come.

In the meantime.

I got a funny little text message from a lovely young woman on the brink of her full life. She’s dipping her toes in the golden tinged waters of a marriage that seems to all to have been ordained by God to just BE. I’ve never experienced anything like this woman, her spouse-to-be, their families, their absolute surety in the rightness of this union – it’s beautiful. They teach me, every day, of a world of people I have never known. Simple, humble, incredible people who walk this earth with the love of God at the centre of their lives and full and the confident, complete knowledge of His Absolute Love.

For someone like me, they are an incredible mystery. A very compelling mystery.

Anyway – I received a text from this lovely soul saying she had a Holy Spirit story for me and that she had met someone who has the gift of Prophesy. And, “that there is someone on our parish staff (and she listed me by name), that she needs to write more and not be afraid. Her writing is a gift and she needs to be more bold.” **hey! Remember at the beginning? – we all believe in forms of mystery – so trust this one too – God DOES try to reach us; and in this case, He went pretty darned direct because clearly lovely wind gusts weren’t quite clearing the cobwebs out of my stressed out, overly-headached brain**

So. My goosebumps for the day. The Lord talks to us. I was and have been praying for clear guidance. What to do? How to talk about this … stuff.

I need time to pull together my thoughts on helping children navigate things when parents behave badly. When worlds fall apart. When the bottom drops out.

When Chaos feels like a physical entity in our world sowing unrest, disunion, anger and fear.

Tonight. My kids and I – we played a game of Uno on the roof of the garage. I looked outside and saw the crescent moon bathed in orange because of the wildfires in our part of the world…I breathed in the flowery scent of our quince tree…and just couldn’t spend another minute inside. My skin itched with a desire to be with nature, but I can’t – because we live in the city now. And so. I put a ladder up to our garage, poured a glass of wine, and called my boys out. We had so much fun. Giggling. My older son posing against the backdrop of the moonlit sunset. My younger son trying to figure out how much he can get away with up there before I nag him into being safe.

It was Good.

Perhaps that’s all it ever needs to be. Praise God.

So – tonight, I have written very little but a story of the day and of the time. Excuse making without clarity.

I want to offer hope to my fellow women friends who find themselves in situations like mine. But, perhaps you don’t need hope or solutions or memes or trite sayings. Perhaps – all that really needs to be said is that I’m going through it too. My story isn’t like yours. and your story is uniquely hard. whether you’re single or married, divorced or separated. whether you’re a Martha or a Mary. Whether you are Catholic or Pagan or agnostic or Buddhist or Muslim. We’re sisters. We need each other. So, I am going to try to share my story with you; my story is filled with Christ and His light, for I know He carries me as He carries us all. He has answered every prayer I have prayed over the past many years. He has loved me from the moment my light sparked into my mother’s womb, and He has loved you the same, and all of our children.

There are no easy answers on this journey. But, we have each other, and we have Him.

Love to you all. I’ll write more. He has asked me to.