Let Nothing Disturb You.
Let Nothing Frighten You.
All Things Pass.
God Never Changes.
-St. Teresa of Avila
(As written by Father Kent O'Conner for his CD Saints.)
When I was pregnant with Cole, I listened to Father Kent O'Conner's CD Saints over and over again. The Magnificant, put to music and sung by him, soothed my anxiety over whether or not my baby would be born full term. It kept reminding me that God was in charge and that no matter what happened my soul should, must, would proclaim the greatness of the Lord.
There is another track on that CD. He set the words of St. Teresa of Avila to song: Let nothing disturb you/ let nothing frighten you/ all things pass/ God never changes. Although I didn't listen to that track as much as I the Magnificant, I did listen to it. It's soothing, like a lullaby, and sends another wonderful message: no matter what happens in life, God is always there, steady, strong. His love for us will never change.
It's been ages since I listened to that CD. Now in the car we listen to Radio Disney or Sandra Bonyton or VBS CDs. Saints has been packed away for awhile.
The other night I was alone in the car (never happens!) and didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. Something had happened and my thoughts needed to be distracted. I didn't want to listen to Radio Disney or VBS songs or (no way!) Garth Brooks (I thought I KNEW my husband! ;p) so I dug through the console and pulled out Saints. I flipped through it until I came to St. Teresa's song.
A few days ago, something happened that threatens to destroy my little family. I've held it together pretty well in the days since the realization that people are watching, judging, my children. But that night was the closest I have come to breaking down and sobbing.
I went to Mass (again, alone, but not for nefarious reasons... I had to do something and Adam and the children went Sunday) and sat in the front row. During the entire service, I clutched the hymnal so hard I left sweat marks on the covers. I tried to focus on the readings and prayers but all I could pray, over and over again, was "Lord, please take this cup from me."
I have prayed it before. I have prayed it deeply. This is only the second time in my life when I wished that this reality was a bad dream.
During Communion, a Eucharist Minister moved closer to my pew to hand out Communion to other parishioners. I was literally kneeling before the Body of Christ. I offered Him my suffering and sorrows. And I prayed, over and over again, "Jesus, I trust in you. Jesus, protect my family. St. Micheal the Archangel, defend us."
How I kept from sobbing, I don't know.
After Mass, I lit a candle in front of the statue of the Blessed Virgin, begging her to pray for me. I know she is. I can feel it and I know she has her arms wrapped around my children too.
I know you are wondering, Laura, what in the hell is happening? My family is under attack. Yes, I know it sounds tin-foil-beanie-ish but it's the truth. We are under attack and Adam and I feel powerless to stop it.
I know we are not truly powerless. "The truth will out!" as Arthur Weasley said. I have reached out to friends and others who can help us, people who can provide hard, solid evidence that we are fine. Good. Wonderful. They are willing to defend us.
St. Micheal the Archangel, defend us in battle.
There is a battle going on in my house, not with guns and bullets or physical weapons, but a spiritual battle and a battle with uneducated people. A battle that has much, much, much more at stake than the harm physical weapons can do.
During this, I have to trust that we will proclaim the greatness of the Lord, no matter what happens. I have to remember that God knows the truth, He is on my side and He will carry me through this. At the end of the God will be there, holding all six of us in His hands.
St. Joseph, pray for us.
St. Faustina, pray for us.
St. George, help us slay this dragon!
St. Micheal the Archangel, defend us!
Blessed Virgin Mary, be with us!
Jesus, we trust in you.