My life is a collection of ideals and disillusionments. It is a spasmodic collection of thoughts, recycled and reused. Prayers are sprawled here and there, huddled together sometimes. There are hundreds of random icy thoughts. There is a malignant promenade of good intentions. I am a solitary figure, a lonely sinner wanting to do good.
Life provides many cursory eyes to observe us; we each are both victim and victimizer with a cursory eye. Each glance that we observe, each breath that we intake changes us. Each thought, each prayer can have an effect on our behavior, on our desire.
We are often enmeshed in all types of rhetorical traps. Secular life is nothing more than an ever growing set of webs waiting for us to collide with it and be caught by the sticky strands of conceit, deceit, selfishness.
Being Catholic means believing in the living God, accepting the death and resurrection of Christ, believing that Jesus Christ is present in the Eucharist of the Mass.
Such a belief has to start somewhere in the heart and slowly grow. Such a belief simply is. It is a given. It is an accepted fact. It forms the basis of an identity, of understanding.
Each action I take reflects upon this central belief in Jesus Christ. Each moment I live is defined by my belief in the living Christ.
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