Seeing as how Mother Mary was instrumental in my meeting P, our courtship has been one of growing our relationship not just with each other, but with our Mother (and with Jesus, her son) as well. At every turning point she has been there to guide us on the way forward, smoothing out the rough bits, encouraging us to listen to her son, and to do as He says.
My prayer life has deepened these past months, especially as I began to pray the rosary more consistently, alongside my other preferred methods of prayer. More than ever, I need the gentle wisdom of Our Lady to navigate the uncharted waters of marriage which I am fast approaching, for having worn the independence of singlehood so long, the challenge of permanent union can be daunting. I fret, I chafe, I grumble and rumble, even as I am awed, grateful, overjoyed and healed by my relationship with P.
Recently as I prayed the Joyful Mysteries, I reflected that the events in themselves did not exactly represent joy. Or rather, joy is not a momentary, serendipitous feeling like happiness that comes from winning a lottery, or acquiring a much sought after bag at half price.
Joy requires you to work at it, to chip away with childlike trust the, at times, thorny exterior of pain and uncertainty, only to reveal the precious, gleaming kernel of Godseed within, the truth of abundant, divine love.
Joy is a process of sifting out the chaff, a movement from dark to light; from the sorrow of living in a fallen world to the redemptive grace of the Lord's mercy. Joy is saying yes to His will and His ways, even when one is unsure and fearful, or mired in grief. Joy comes from having the faith and fortitude to say Thy will be done, again and again, even when it requires sacrifice and privation, a constant dying to self.
We have only to look at the events of the Joyful Mysteries to understand the essence,of joy: the annunciation, the visitation, the nativity, the presentation at the temple and the finding of boy Jesus in the temple. All these mysteries are events, which at the time of happening, could not have evoked pure joy, with the exception of the visitation where the cousins, Mary and Elizabeth find pleasure in reunion and communion. Even so, pregnancy was not an ideal state for a single woman to find herself in.
If an angel spoke to me of an impossible situation I'd soon find myself in, I would either run away in fear, or reject the idea outright. Childbirth is painful, by all accounts, not to be combined with the unthinkable experience of giving birth next to livestock housed in a manger. I would push crazy, old Simeon away for casting a shadow on my son's important day with his dire ramblings. And I would smack my son for giving me lip after making me anxious with his disappearing act. The joy, if any, came in a rush of conflicting emotions.
So Mother Mary is to be greatly admired for being able to cut through all the fluff and arriving at the essential truth, time after time. She could only do so by maintaining a disposition receptive to the delicate nuances of the Holy Spirit's guiding hand. When she did not understand, she allowed the mystery of the moment to sit within her quietly and unfurl its petals in due course. She did not use the brute force of limited human understanding or ego to gain instant gratification. She meditated. She contemplated. She let the Father speak to her in his own words and fashion. She was open. Full of grace. Full of joy.
I have been practising Mary's receptive disposition, not always with immediate success, but I find that when one persists in prayer, the negativity that comes from nitpicky, perfectionistic expectations does give way to a more expansive and life-giving generosity. I can let go of my obstinate and legalistic views, and enjoy what I have been given.
I am able to appreciate the beauty of an imperfect human moment. And I can celebrate the fragile and temporal music I hear to sing a magnificat of praise with joy.
My prayer life has deepened these past months, especially as I began to pray the rosary more consistently, alongside my other preferred methods of prayer. More than ever, I need the gentle wisdom of Our Lady to navigate the uncharted waters of marriage which I am fast approaching, for having worn the independence of singlehood so long, the challenge of permanent union can be daunting. I fret, I chafe, I grumble and rumble, even as I am awed, grateful, overjoyed and healed by my relationship with P.
Recently as I prayed the Joyful Mysteries, I reflected that the events in themselves did not exactly represent joy. Or rather, joy is not a momentary, serendipitous feeling like happiness that comes from winning a lottery, or acquiring a much sought after bag at half price.
Joy requires you to work at it, to chip away with childlike trust the, at times, thorny exterior of pain and uncertainty, only to reveal the precious, gleaming kernel of Godseed within, the truth of abundant, divine love.
Joy is a process of sifting out the chaff, a movement from dark to light; from the sorrow of living in a fallen world to the redemptive grace of the Lord's mercy. Joy is saying yes to His will and His ways, even when one is unsure and fearful, or mired in grief. Joy comes from having the faith and fortitude to say Thy will be done, again and again, even when it requires sacrifice and privation, a constant dying to self.
We have only to look at the events of the Joyful Mysteries to understand the essence,of joy: the annunciation, the visitation, the nativity, the presentation at the temple and the finding of boy Jesus in the temple. All these mysteries are events, which at the time of happening, could not have evoked pure joy, with the exception of the visitation where the cousins, Mary and Elizabeth find pleasure in reunion and communion. Even so, pregnancy was not an ideal state for a single woman to find herself in.
If an angel spoke to me of an impossible situation I'd soon find myself in, I would either run away in fear, or reject the idea outright. Childbirth is painful, by all accounts, not to be combined with the unthinkable experience of giving birth next to livestock housed in a manger. I would push crazy, old Simeon away for casting a shadow on my son's important day with his dire ramblings. And I would smack my son for giving me lip after making me anxious with his disappearing act. The joy, if any, came in a rush of conflicting emotions.
So Mother Mary is to be greatly admired for being able to cut through all the fluff and arriving at the essential truth, time after time. She could only do so by maintaining a disposition receptive to the delicate nuances of the Holy Spirit's guiding hand. When she did not understand, she allowed the mystery of the moment to sit within her quietly and unfurl its petals in due course. She did not use the brute force of limited human understanding or ego to gain instant gratification. She meditated. She contemplated. She let the Father speak to her in his own words and fashion. She was open. Full of grace. Full of joy.
I have been practising Mary's receptive disposition, not always with immediate success, but I find that when one persists in prayer, the negativity that comes from nitpicky, perfectionistic expectations does give way to a more expansive and life-giving generosity. I can let go of my obstinate and legalistic views, and enjoy what I have been given.
I am able to appreciate the beauty of an imperfect human moment. And I can celebrate the fragile and temporal music I hear to sing a magnificat of praise with joy.
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