Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,
was not with them when Jesus came.
So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he said to them,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands
and put my finger into the nailmarks
and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”
Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.”
Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands,
and bring your hand and put it into my side,
and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
When I got the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick a few weeks before my surgery, I was fully prepared for what lay ahead of me in entering into this time of suffering.
Yeah right.
It was the third time I had received this sacrament for any one of my service connected disabilities or injuries. I was looking forward to getting better and stronger. I viewed it as more of an opportunity to educate the teens that I mentored as a Core member at my parish as they prayed with me and observed the priest place the oil of the sick on my hands and forehead. I was actually excited to enter into redemptive suffering that would clearly be because of the physical pain of the suffering and rehabilitation.
As my mentor Michelle says... Sneaky Jesus strikes again.
The whole point of this Sacrament is to unite your suffering to the Cross of Christ. It makes our suffering redemptive instead of insular.
How quickly I forgot about the fullness of the Passion of Christ. It was more than just a little pain in my shoulder.
The trap of not being able to work or do the things that I love like play and coach hockey, call softball and CrossFit has affected me in ways that I could not anticipate. The loneliness of being out of community. The emptiness of a day without task or routine. The action that kept my thoughts at bay and wore me out so I could lay my head down was gone. I was stripped bare of all the securities that I had in my life as I rested comfortably in my apartment.
Your mind is a dangerous place. You shouldn't go in there alone. You won't come out the same way you went in.
I am turning 30 next week, and last week that got real. Ten years ago, I would have laughed at you if you told me I would still be single, living in Dallas, broken from my service to my country and unable to work. It seemed like my twenties were a flashing before me as missed opportunities, broken relationships and achievements that were now meaningless.
Five years ago, I started following God and I have literally nothing to show for it. No career, no family of my own. All the things that I thought defined me had been stripped away; especially my independence.
Even with getting out and driving this weekend, the feelings did not go away when I would come back home. I would fill my time with Netflix binges, checking Facebook and even play music in the shower to keep out the silence. My prayers at night were lackluster and route; I would finish them as I climbed into bed after taking my muscle relaxers so I would just fall asleep without the silence.
Today, I still wasn't feeling it. I couldn't snap out of it. I couldn't get positive. I couldn't shake it. No matter how hard I tried or others tried to help me in being kind to me. My friend Jessie reminded me that I needed to clutch onto the Cross. Right now I just need to hold onto it. Splinters in my face, blood running down. I've been so lukewarm that I told her that I felt like the Cross had just fallen on me and I didn't want to get back up.
I went to Mass. It was Divine Mercy Sunday. I had somehow managed to pray the novena that started on Good Friday... even if it was without enthusiasm and only because a series of emails reminded me.
Mass got real fast. The Gospel was that of when Jesus appeared in the flesh to Thomas after he doubted the other Apostles. Jesus loved Thomas enough to allow the sinner that doubted the benefit from the affirmation that he asked for. Even if it was foolish. Even if Thomas should have just believed that Jesus would be true to His promises. Even if everyone else was leap years ahead of his faith... Jesus reached out and made it a point to let Himself be touched.
For every complaint or cry that I had, I was reminded that Jesus felt the same things that I felt. He was lonely and isolated. He was abandoned by those closest to Him in His greatest hour of need. He collapsed under the weight of the Cross and fell... a few times. His word was doubted by those closest to Him.
He begged for there to be a different way than the Cross.. and sweat blood at the realization that there wasn't. He followed through even though it meant that He sacrificed EVERYTHING for those who had done NOTHING for Him.
During the offertory, when I saw the gifts go up to the altar, I told Jesus that I gave this funk that I was in to Him. I realized that with what I give Him, He can make beautiful things out of my mess.
I got a whole boatload of consolation that wasn't the warm and fuzzies.
My phone suddenly blew up from my friends that were still trying to break me out of my funk and I had to take it out of my pocket so I wouldn't get distracted.
My friend Sylvia put her right hand out to join my gimp left for the Our Father. I put my stress ball from my sling in her hand and she held it like a Champ through the whole prayer and the levity from it caused both of us to start laughing while we said the prayer. The spell was broken.
At the sign of peace, she looked me in the eye and handed me a Crucifix, telling me "Jesus loves you". I clutched it in my left hand and said "Jesus is heavy"... not realizing in how many ways that statement is true.
I held onto Jesus as tight as I could for the rest of the night with my eight graders in the Confirmation Class I help teach. I had the toughest small group of the entire year. Somehow I came out able to kindly reprimand them and affirm them at the same time... that was total grace.
In this trial, I have so much to offer to the Lord beyond my mild physical pain and discomfort.
I can offer my loneliness. My ineptitude. My brokenness. My lameness.
I can give in and allow Him to carry me.
Thank God that someone loved me enough to give me something to clutch onto that isn't a stress ball.
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