Get In The Water - Doubt and Faith

"Doubt isn't the opposite of faith;

it's an element of faith."

- Paul Tillich

    I have always been a hopeless romantic. I can embarrassingly enough admit to reading every Nicholas Sparks novel and loving it. I can also admit to knowing just about every word in the movie "The Notebook." I absolutely loved reading cheesy romance novels (nothing distasteful, of course). But that wasn't all. I loved hearing how couples met, their stories of first dates, the little things about each other that they love. I'm always willing to hear love stories partly because I have my own love story to tell...between me and JC. And this morning, while I was sitting in Mass, I couldn't help but think that if I was in the boat with the disciples, Jesus might react much like Ryan Gosling in the Notebook (see above picture). 

     If you've seen the movie, you know exactly what I am talking about. Noah (Ryan Gosling) has just started dating Allie (Rachel McAdams) when they find themselves at a summer, Southern lake or pond. All but Allie have swung on the rope swing to get in the water and Noah is cheering her on. After a few "fake-outs" and lots of screaming, Allie finally swings on the rope swing and falls into the cold water. She had been looking out over the pond (probably filled with creepy-crawlies, so I don't blame her), scared out of her mind to jump in, and Noah, already having been in the water, shouts at her "GET IN THE WATER." This scene was playing in my head as I listened to the Gospel reading. Now, trust me, I was paying attention.

     In the Gospel reading today, we hear the familiar story of the disciples in the boat in the middle of a storm. Jesus, walks on water toward them, and they are fearful of Him possibly being a ghost. When the disciples realize it is Jesus, Jesus asks Peter to get out of the boat and into the water. Of course, we all know what happens. Peter starts to get scared and begins to sink. Jesus, then, raises him up. I pictured myself in the boat facing a terrifying storm (or the terrifying pond). Jesus, having been on the water (in the storm) already, beckons for me to come out of the water, perhaps playfully like Noah in "The Notebook. Much like Allie, I hesitate, unsure of what is going to happen once I get in the water. But, because I love Jesus, like Allie loved Noah, I get in the water. See the visual? Yeah...then there was me trying not to giggle as I imagined Jesus looking like Ryan Gosling. But that's not all...

     As I continued to reflect, after the Homily, I pulled out the Gospel reading again. I was looking for any sign of Jesus actually calming the storm before asking Peter to come out on the water. There wasn't any. So you see, the disciples were already sitting in a boat in the midst of the storm when Jesus comes. Now remember, Jesus had to walk through the storm to get to the boat. Jesus doesn't calm the storm; there's not even a brief mention of the sea calming when He walks toward them. But instead, He simply says, "Do not be afraid." Oh yeah...the disciples were already terrified because of the storm. Then suddenly Jesus shows up and says, do not be afraid, but doesn't actually do anything about the storm?! Sounds reasonable (enter sarcasm here). Not only does He not calm the storm, but then He asks Peter to join Him out on the water, which was probably extremely choppy and rough. If anything, the storm is worst out in the water where Jesus is standing, than in the boat, thus, being even more terrifying. Yet, Peter does it. Of course, we know that Peter at one point "thinks about the wind" (I would be more worried about the sharks underneath but to each his own) and starts to slip beneath the water. At this point Jesus, raises him up and says, "Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?" 

    How often is this our life? As I listened, I felt the reading strike a chord with me. Right now, I'm sitting in my own boat and I can feel the waters starting to get rough and choppy. I can see the storm of uncertainty coming. I don't have a job secured yet; I'm not sure if I'm going to live at home or move out; I don't know what's going to happen in the next few months, weeks, days; I don't know a lot of things. All of this is swirling around me and I can feel the storm coming. So often we see these storms coming; these true storms of uncertainty. Often, we find ourselves begging for the storms to go away, to be calmed, to just stop, much like I was last night. But the storms don't stop; they get worse and we feel we are stuck in our boats. But Jesus will come to us; He will go through the storm to find us. And then, He will ask us to go even deeper into the storm. We see Jesus and we are peaceful, but the moment we start thinking about the storm again, we start to sink. This is when Jesus asks us about our faith. 

     At this moment in my life, I feel Jesus asking me to get in the water. I haven't quite yet left the boat, but I know He is there asking me to get in the water. I see Him and I'm begging Him to calm the storms, but He wants me to go deeper into the storm. He wants to show me that with Him, I can weather the storm. He wants to show me my strength; He wants me to believe in myself. But I think, too, all sailors gain experience by the storms they go through. They are better prepared the bigger and worse storms they might have to weather. This storm now is teeny compared to the storms that will come later in life. Jesus is asking me to go deeper into the storm to better prepare me for the ones I might encounter later in my life. And all the while, He is promising to hold my hand. He is promising to be there with me, either through another person or via carrying me in prayer. Right now I'm looking at the storm and at Jesus, holding out His hand and begging me to get in the water. 

     As I was thinking about all of this, I happened to look over at a dear friend of mine who was seated on the other side of the church. On some mornings, she and I share a pew in the Chapel, so we have truly gotten to know each other by praying with and for one another. She has become a spiritual mentor for me and I am extremely grateful for her presence in my life. Anyway, I was looking around the Chapel and found her seated there with our Pastor's mom. At this point in the Mass, we just knelt down for the consecration. Our Pastor's mom was sitting in her wheelchair in front of the pew my friend was kneeling in. As soon as she knelt down, she reached in front of her and offered her hand. Our Pastor's mom took her hand and throughout the consecration, they held hands. Of course, both both and after this, I had seen moments of similar comfort. On occasion, my friend would put her hands on the shoulders of the dear woman in front of her or offer her hand in a comforting way. It is clear to me that this dear woman, our Pastor's mom, is going through a storm herself. She is aging and the aging process is sometimes terrifying. Yet, my friend is often with her and offering her comfort. It seems to me that our Pastor's mom might be in the middle of her storm, and Jesus is holding her up through my friend. 

     It was these moments through Mass that reminded me of what would happen when I finally get out of the boat. Right now, I'm holding onto my boat, the things in life of which I am certain, which really isn't too much. I can see Jesus in the distance, coming towards me and begging me to get in the water. I used to be a cannon ball girl. That is, I used to jump right in the pool or ocean no matter how cold or rough the waters might be. But now, I'm more reserved. I don't know what's in the water, I don't know what's in my storm, and so it's harder for me to jump out. I know though, that Jesus will be much life my friend. He will offer me a gentle hand to hold, gentle hands on my shoulders or arms, just so that I know He is there. He will hold me up when I start to fear in the storm, too. 

    So why am I holding onto my boat? I'm afraid I'll sink in my fears of uncertainty. I'm afraid. Jesus is telling me, "do not be afraid; do not fear that which you do not know." I know, Jesus, I know. But my human instincts say, "stay in the boat." No one in their right mind would jump in the ocean in the middle of a storm and yet, Jesus did. Jesus walked right into the storm to find me. And now, He's telling me that the only way to survive the storm is if I get in the water. So often, our human instincts don't match what faith says to do. In fact, a lot of times, it feels quite like they are opposing forces. I feel that way now. I know that faith says I will survive if I weather the storm. So, maybe it's time I heed the message. Maybe it's time I just "get in the water." Maybe, like Allie, I need to trust the love of my life enough, and just jump. But until I get the courage to do so, I'll work on making my doubt walk the plank. 

Even the Best Fall Down Sometimes...A Story About Doubt

"Even the best fall down sometimes. 

Even the wrong word seems to rhyme. 

Out of the doubt that fills my mind, 

I somehow find, You and I collide."

- Howie Day, Collide

    Let's be frank, here (notice I didn't say Frank, because I prefer Becca to any other name for myself.): The blog description says this: A blog about the ups and downs of taking the road less traveled by, etc. Today, I'm turning a "down" into an up. 

    We all suffer doubts at some points in our life. Whether you're doubting your college major in your senior year,  or doubting whether or not you really like your significant other, or doubting that the pizza you had for lunch was actually good for you or even doubting your confidence on a test you studied eight straight hours for. Or maybe it's deeper doubt, like doubting your profession/occupation in life, or doubting that your role in a single person's life, or doubting God. They say, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." And for me this Doubt, this Doubt is, "What if all I thought was right for me, was really just an inlet for others to find God and their vocations, and really God hasn't revealed any of His REAL plan for me."

    I began to think, what REALLY drags me to Mass every morning? Was it pure love of the Lord or fear to stray from the routine? When I find myself sitting before the Lord a few minutes before Mass saying, "JC, I've got nothing. Absolutely nothing," that scares me. It makes me want to cry because I don't know what to hold onto. It's as if the string of hope is a mere sewing thread. I feel like I'm holding onto the ledge, dangling over the Grande Canyon, by my fingertips, getting ready to let go. I feel like all I've ever thought was God's plan for me, the religious life, might not be truly His plan. 

    And then I think, after I post a questioning status that all the nuns hop on like it's the newest trending hashtag on Twitter, what about Mother Teresa who spent all those years in a Spiritual Desert? What about all those saints who felt like God was silent? They became SAINTS! I'm not saying I'm going to become a saint, but that all these HOLY MEN AND WOMEN felt like God was silent, too. They doubted. They felt like giving up. I needed someone to be God's voice to me and right away, those voices of God came. 

    It's like the sisters know (now, without having to even see my face) that I'm dealing with doubt and need some help. For the first time this week, I went to morning Mass instead of Noon Mass, and my piano nun chose "The Lord is my Hope" for the entrance hymn. Right away, it was like a mass text went out to tell everyone that Becca needed prayers and encouragement. Actually, truth is, a text did go out to those cell phone savvy but not Facebook savvy sisters around me at school that I needed prayers. I quickly found that the majority of the sisters on campus and at the Motherhouse knew of my ailment and began to storm Heaven, for they, themselves, knew the power of Doubt and how much it hurts. Before I could cry another tear, I was getting spiritual direction via text messages and Facebook chats. And even at Mass yesterday morning, the kind smile from a sister and another sister taking the seat next to me, reminded me that God is not silent; I just wasn't listening. 

    While I may still be in a period of doubt, it has lessened greatly due to the voices of God who helped me out. And I've come to realize that this "uncertainty" of sorts is a normal feeling for anyone but especially for young people discerning this call to religious life. And so say a prayer for all those who may be going through enormous amounts of doubt in their vocation. If you've been there before, you know how much those prayers can help! And here's to making the down an up!