Experience of a Certainty
"When I was asked to give a witness at the summer vacation, I was very hesitant because I had only been in the movement one year. In fact, it had been exactly one year since my first encounter with the movement."When I was asked to give a witness at the summer vacation, I was very hesitant because I had only been in the movement one year. In fact, it had been exactly one year since my first encounter with the movement at the 2017 summer vacation. Regardless, Paolo asked me to give a witness on what has changed concretely in my life since meeting the movement. When he posed to me this question, I knew I had to answer it for myself, and since I work better with a deadline I decided I might as well share what I found with my friends at the summer vacation.
To understand what changed in my life, I should share a little of what my life was like before I met the movement. I was raised in a large, intensely Catholic, conservative family and homeschooled from kindergarten through high school using a very Catholic homeschool curriculum. My family owned a farm and most of my life was spent at home or at church. I did not have the opportunity to form many friendships. When I decided to leave home and move to Houston for school, I was searching for a different way to live. I knew there had to be something more than living an isolated life that was as far from the touch of the outside world as possible. I began to question my parents’ beliefs and attitudes, but I didn’t know where to go from there. I didn’t know how to make friends or how to evaluate the ideas and beliefs that I had been given. So, I came to Houston to attend the University of St. Thomas and to become a nurse.
The first two years were very difficult for me. I felt very alone and at times abandoned. I couldn’t seem to make close friendships or find the closeness that I craved. I was ashamed of my conservative background and wanted, above all, not to appear “homeschooled”, which meant I put on a front anytime I was around others. Not only was this exhausting, but it prevented my relationships from being truly genuine. Since my faith had always been very important to me, I attended Mass often and frequently stopped at the chapel to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament. However, I was becoming more and more angry with God. I would make a visit to the chapel whenever I was feeling lonely or depressed and beg God to send someone, anyone, just to ask how I was doing but no one ever came. I was angry at God and angry with my parents for the circumstances in which I was living, and, eventually, the anger turned inward and became depression.
This went on until my second summer in Houston. I was becoming very depressed and struggling to function. I had three summer classes and was scheduled to go on a mission trip to Honduras with one of my nursing professors, but I could barely drag myself to class and planning for my first trip out of the country seemed impossible. So, I went to my professor - who incidentally, turned out to be a member of CL - and told her my whole situation, and that I did not think I could go on the trip. She was very understanding and just talking to her helped me feel better. She helped me to find the professional help that I needed and simply taking these actions gave me hope and helped me feel well enough to go on the trip. However, before we left, I received a call from her saying that she was going on a vacation with friends near San Antonio and asked if I would like to join her and meet her family before joining them on the mission trip. I still do not know what made me say yes or why a shy, introverted girl like me would agree to go away and spend an extended weekend with complete strangers. It should have sounded like a weekend in hell to me but instead I said yes. In the year that I had known her and taken her classes I had seen something in this professor. It was in the way she talked about these people who had helped her so much that made me want to know more, and to possibly experience what she had experienced.
I went to the summer vacation and I loved it. I was so struck by how all of these people really enjoyed staying together, even when we were hiking in the grueling hot sun or playing really ridiculous games. I could see that they were truly happy and truly enjoying life. I had not seen this before. My mom had been unhappy for so long that she believed unhappiness was a requirement for being a Catholic and she often dwelt on the writings of the saints that emphasized the sufferings of this life. But these people were clearly Catholic (we had Mass every day, even outdoors overlooking the falls!) and I could see that they were genuinely happy. So, at the end of the vacation, I stood up and asked to know more about what made them so happy.
I began to go to School of Community and when classes resumed in the fall, I joined the tiny CLU group. But the biggest change for me was moving in with two girls from the movement, both named Giulia. I was hesitant, at first, because I was afraid they were just inviting me to move in out of pity and I would have fiercely resented that. But when I arrived I did not feel that way at all. They helped me find a bed and Giulia’s mom had helped reorganize the house. We ate dinner together almost every day and they included me in any activities with their friends, who soon became my friends as well. I did not realize how much was changing until Paolo asked me to give a witness on this question at the 2018 summer vacation.
As I looked back over the past year, I felt like a completely different person. I had friends. I was busy and happy. I was learning so much about how to live my faith in a way that was useful to my life, and not as a duty to be fulfilled. There was one fact that particularly stood out to me, though. Before I met the movement, I was angry at God whom I saw as an all-powerful figure in the sky rather than someone who loved and cared for me in this very moment, even while I was struggling. In fact, I could not understand how this could be true when I had knelt so many times in the chapel, feeling alone and unloved. If he was there loving me, why did he allow me to feel like that? This question did not disappear once I met the movement. In fact, during one School of Community, I hid in the bathroom and cried because I wanted to believe that God cared for me, but how could that be true when I remembered so many times when he had seemingly turned his back on me? What changed was how I faced these questions. My professor, who had now become my friend, with other friends encouraged me to ask these questions. They were not scandalized that I was questioning God, in fact they told me to ask. They did not tell me to be resigned to God’s will or offer it up. They said there is something good for you in this situation; ask God to show you what that is. When I shared that I was not certain that God loved me, they said to ask him to show you. That struck me a lot. Most Catholics that I had known would have quoted scripture to me or pointed to a crucifix. These are wonderful examples, but I needed something concrete in my life now that showed God’s love for me. By the time of my second CL summer vacation, I was learning to be open with God and to ask him the hard questions, and to be open to the reality in front of me. But most importantly, I did not ask these questions alone but accompanied by friends who were also asking these same questions.
Something else changed for me at the vacation but I did not see it until a few weeks later. At the first vacation, I was understandably shy and a little withdrawn because I did not know anyone and I had never really experienced being with people with whom I could truly be myself. At the second vacation, I had an experience of being surrounded by friends who truly cared for me as I am. I felt such freedom that I could truly be myself because I did not make this love happen and therefore I cannot lose it either.
Reflecting on the vacation, my witness, and the ongoing question (How can I have this certainty that God truly loves me?), I realized that my experience at the vacation is a certainty. It was not a passing feeling of being loved. These friends truly care for me even when I do not see them. And I am as certain of their affection now - as I write this two months later - just as I was at the vacation. It is a certainty that does not depend on how I am feeling or the circumstances of my life. I have come to realize that if these friends of mine care for me in this way - in a way that does not depend on what I do and does not depend on my efforts - it is not so hard to believe that God cares for me in this way as well.
Theresa, Texas, USA