Jumbled, Restless, and Catholic

There are moments when our thoughts are jumbled and restless. Our eyes skim across the horizon, our ears strain to isolate stray sounds, our nose sniffs the air for different aromas. Life is the sum of all of our senses, all of our sensations.

Life is what we remember, what we forget, and what we dream about. Life is what we pray for, what we believe, and what we share.

Writing this blog is an exploration of my beliefs, an exploration of being an American Catholic.

Writing can make any man neurotic. Writing a blog definitely can leave a person feeling a little unhinged. That is part of the appeal. Being vulnerable and sharing some as personal as views on religion and faith is difficult. All types of anxiety and angst threaten to derail any progress.

Being Catholic defines who I am I, influences how I live my life. I am alive and imperfect. I have questions about the Catechism, questions about Vatican II. Sometimes I hope that I will be alive for Vatican III.

Wednesday evenings are good for reflection, better for concentration. Wednesday is the middle of the week. A sense of balance accompanies this day because there are three days before and three days after. Reflection and concentration are good for the soul. We need to scrutinize our behaviors, scrutinize our mistakes and scrutinize sins. We need to examine our acts of charity, examine our acts of mercy, examine our acts of compassion.

I am aware that I need more prayer time. Sometimes I think that everybody needs more prayer time. I wonder if there could ever be a National Day of Personal Prayer and Reflection Day.

Urban existence is often simply unasked questions and unanswered prayers relocated from small towns. Helicopters circle above some buildings, limousines wait in front some hotels. Friday night they meet for drinks after work. Sunday afternoon they meet for brunch after Mass. Do they runaway to protect their souls? Do they turn away to learn how to love?

Being Catholic can be a lonely existence. Our Faith asks us to remember one act of love, one supreme sacrifice and then to model our lives on being selfless, loving, forgiving. These behaviors are not always easy. Being human means to be sometimes feel out of place; however, through the cacophony of life we, sometimes, can stumble upon an instance of beauty, peace when we can feel God’s presence.

But I am content to be write jumbled sentences about my restless wonderings, about all the sensations of my experiences as a Catholic.