Palm Sunday is always hard for me... the reading of the Passion, Christ's friend betraying Him, nobody actually standing up for Him as the high priest demands His crucifixion.... maybe it's because I was bullied so horribly growing up, but this has always made me weep. I have always felt like I could identify with Christ. (Yes, I was an odd child)
The last two weekends I managed to make it through watching the Passion of Christ without crying. Last night I managed to make it through the reading of the Passion without crying. Last night, what made me cry uncontrolably was the homily. I got to the church right as mass was starting, and it was packed so I ended up sitting first row, center isle. Usually that wouldn't have bothered me. Usually Father comes down into the congregation to give his homily and I love it.
Last night he stood right in front of me, happened to make eye contact, and asked us all to think of our worst day. I instantly shook my head as my inner voice screamed "NO!" and he chuckled, as did the rest of the faith-community. He followed with "now, the day after that was a little bit better.... and the day after that..." etc. He asked us to think of the people God brings to us to help us get past our worst day.... and that's when I lost it.
"Why?" do you ask? Well, even with all that has happened over the last 15 years, my worst day was caused by the very person God put in my life to bring me up from all those other times that I thought were my worst days. The day "George" (this is what we will call him for anonimity's sake) brought my world crashing around me when he told me that our 8 year friendship was only in my head and that he was only kind to me because it was convenient for him at the time. The beginning of April is always hard for me anyway because his birthday is the first week, and it's also when he sent me the email that tore my soul in two.
I thought I was done with this pain! I thought I'd forgiven "George" for his decision to do what he did, to say what he said to me! Obviously, I only burried it. Not that I would ever wish anyone dead, but I think it would have been -- would BE -- easier for me to move on if someone had passed. I know I've said this before, I know I've blogged about it before, but it's still how I feel.... with everything fresh again, like Father's words were a knife reopening the scar tissue that took so long to patch the pieces of myself back together.
How do I really, truly get past this? I'm not sure.... "George" is the only person who can pull me into my darkest place without having to even be present. The hardest part for me is that we shared so much of my formative years as a Catholic, the years when my Soul Cries started, the years when I found who I was, when I was the one making the decisions in my Faith-Life, and he was there every step of the way. There's a good 7-8 years of my life where every single day was infused with this person. It's the "lesson" I don't understand yet.... it's the only thing I really, really question in God's plan for me.... What-the-heck good was it to have this person in my life if I was going to be permanently emotionally & mentally scarred by him?!?! Doesn't it seem like there would have been a seriously less painful journey on my path, God?
Of course, as I type this, the whole point of Father's homily comes rushing back in.... God put Jesus on.the.cross. Couldn't there have been a less painful way? No, not for us to really get the point. Luckily for the early followers of Jesus, and I mean early- like people who were at his death-early, they received almost instant gratification in that Jesus was back in 3 days- BAM!- told you so!
Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to see that kind of relief from my grief. (ha-ha, no intention of making that rhyme) *half grin*
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