Don't crack open the door to the devil

 By Mary N.

The Vine Dresser and the Fig Tree by Tissot
(photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

Ever have days when you feel as if you are trudging through deep water?  And you wish the day would hurry up and be finished already?

Well, it happens to me. Over the years, I've learned to recognize the patterns of thought that bring it about and how Satan uses it to oppress me. As aware as I am of what brings about the oppression on these days I have to admit that I sometimes wallow in it for a while.

Call it self-pity if you will.

Let's use insomnia as an example since this is a problem for a number of people, including me. I'll have a sleepless night and feel "foggy", tired, and irritable by 7:00 in the morning. Since we are physical as well as spiritual beings, in prances "Old Slewfoot" determined to get a foothold into my day.

And it always starts with the mind.

 If you can overcome these attacks quickly you have a good chance of having a smooth day. If you don't put them down quickly? Well, things will probably just spiral downwards from there.

Usually I am the one who starts the mess with an internal dialogue that might go something like this:

"Oh, how am I going to get through the day? I'm exhausted and of course it's a work day!" (You can fill in things other than work - the point is that we sometimes set ourselves up for bad days.)

"Why can't I sleep normally like other people? Great, just great!  I really needed a good night's sleep, too. Oh well! Another day of walking around in a daze I guess!" (I say this to myself but sometimes secretly wonder if I'm really announcing my displeasure to God. After all, I already know I'm tired so there would be no point in mentioning it to myself, right? Think along the lines of telling others all about your exhaustion to elicit sympathy from them...lol)
                 
If I let thoughts like these fester instead of ripping them out I can almost guarantee that they will get worse:

"I look haggard! Sheesh! Look at those dark circles! And to top it off my head is pounding. I can't go to work like this!"


Continue reading at Mary's blog The Beautiful Gate.

Sins of speech and the golden key

By Barbara A. Schoeneberger

Discussion by von Ottenfield (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

The inimitable Msgr. Charles Pope has an excellent post all of us can benefit from. Lord, Keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth: Reflections on Common Sins of Speech will have many readers squirming. We don’t hear often from the pulpit about the pitfalls of the wagging tongue, but we should, because we all fail to exercise the degree of discretion we ought when it comes to our speech. St. James wrote quite a bit about this in his epistle in the New Testament, and the book of Proverbs in the Old Testament contains multiple cautions against evil speech.

Convents and monasteries have good reasons to limit speaking freely to hours set for recreation, and allowing only talk that is necessary to perform duties at other times. Sins of speech where people live in close quarters behind cloister walls can poison an entire community. Perhaps family life might be calmer in some homes if parents instituted something similar to eradicate the undercurrent of maliciousness in communication that is a hallmark of sibling rivalry or of a weakening relationship between Mom and Dad.

The work place is a more difficult challenge but not impossible when it comes to guarding one’s tongue, this because many people today aren’t concerned with the things of God and are in full pursuit of fleshly desires. If we become known as someone who speaks when necessary, says the truth to another in a way that is constructive, and encourages others rather than tearing them down, we will have accomplished a great deal towards bringing peace to what is often a pit of complaints, double dealing, laziness, and outright spite.


Continue reading at Barbara's blog  Suffering with Joy.

How to complain to God in 3 easy steps

by Daria Sockey

Mary Stuart's Breviary (Photo: Wikipedia)

I used to think it was wrong to complain to God. I had overdosed on those stories where saints are portrayed as  positively craving new opportunities to suffer for the love of God-- bursting into rhapsodies of delight at each new illness, inconvenience, and disappointment. And so, when the thought would cross my mind in times of trouble—God, what on earth were you thinking to let this happen to me?—I thought I was being at least slightly sinful.

But King David and the other psalmists complain plenty. They go on in great detail about how bad life is at the moment, and ask God why He hasn't fixed it yet. They tell God they don't understand why He worked so many miracles in the past but doesn't seem to do so anymore. They point out that non-believers are suggesting that maybe God is not so great if He allows  such  disasters to happen to His friends. 

We can't dismiss this by saying, "That was the Old Testament."  After all, the psalms were the prayers that Jesus used. As He was dying, he cried to His Father with the ultimate complaint from Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?”

Psalm 42 shows us the way

Yesterday's Morning Prayer from the Divine Office (Psalter, Monday Week II) starts with a wonderful example of the biblical way to complain--Psalm 42. It opens with sheer poetry, expressing our deepest longing:"Like a deer that years for running streams, so my soul is thirsting for you, my God..."

But soon the psalmist makes it clear that he is pretty miserable: "My tears have become my bread by night and by day, as I hear it said all the day long,'Where is your God?'"

"I remember...how I would lead the rejoicing crowd into the house of God...the throng wild with joy."

Now, check this out: "Why are you cast down, my soul, why groan within me? Hope in God, I will praise Him still, my savior and my God." A complete acceptance of suffering? Not quite. After this expression of trust, he is immediately back to complaining. "Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning, oppressed by the foe?...my enemies revile me, saying to me all the day long, 'Where is your God?'"

Despite that, the psalm ends with the refrain, "Hope in God, I will praise him still, my savior and my God."

Complaining and trust aren't mutually exclusive

The pattern is easy to see. Complain while trusting. Trust while complaining.

This makes perfect sense. In fact, it is what good (albeit fallen) children will do. Think of that fussy toddler screaming his head off while clinging to Mom's leg.  The whiny six year old whose favorite phrase is “That's not fair.” Or the  teenager pouting in her room. Despite each age-appropriate version of “why have you rejected me?”  they know that you love them and have their best interests at heart. Not that they are likely to say, “That's okay, Mom. I trust you, even if you don't buy me an Ipad.” These are fallen children we're talking about. But their continued trust is, I think, implicit. Maybe this is part of what Our Lord meant when He said we should become like little children.

Of course, it would be better to follow up our complaints to God with explicitly stated trust in Him. And the psalms are excellent models of how to do this. Complain. Trust. Repeat.

Daria Sockey originally posted this at her blog  Coffee and Canticles.