WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH

Can’t go out to eat so I’ve been binge watching the Cooking Channel. Can’t meet up with friends so we Zoom or talk through text longer than ever before. Can’t go to mass so I pray less than I used to when churches were open and Adoration Chapels were available to all. What’s wrong with me?

I’ve been struggling spiritually during the quarantine and feel like I must be the only one. A friend was explaining how she watches livestream masses daily, prays four rosaries and reads the Bible now that she’s not distracted with window shopping and other time killers. But the opposite seems true for me.

When I was driving around town to go to school and run errands, I would pray in the “hermitage” of my car. When I was swamped with school assignments and helping out my teen, I would carve time in between my hectic schedule to listen to Bishop Barron or audiobooks on the saints. But now I feel lost.

Lack of order is a problem for me. Too much time at home. Too much time to fret about how to organize our new place since we happened to move during the quarantine. Too much freedom to choose when to pray and so the days fly by and I wonder why I didn’t even get around to listening to the daily readings podcast that I used to religiously start my days with.

I tried setting reminders on my phone but didn’t even get through an entire week praying the Liturgy of Hours. I crave a routine again and yet none seems forthcoming as the province cautiously proceeds with the next steps in dealing with the pandemic.

I sense that I am being tested to the core and failing miserably. What is my identity if I cannot commit when the world turns upside down, when the quiet of the day paralyzes me rather than uplifts me.

Now more than ever I resonate with Padre Pio’s plea:

“Stay with me, Lord, for it is necessary to have You present so that I do not forget You. You know how easily I abandon You.”

My eyes well as I write this. Padre Pio, pray for this poor soul. Pray for all of your spiritual daughters and sons.

Kyrie eleison,
Cecilia