“Consider that God wants to fill you up with honey, but if you are already full of vinegar where will you put the honey? What was in the vessel must be emptied out; the vessel itself must be washed out and made clean and scoured, hard work though it may be, so that it be fit for something else, whatever it may be.” ~ St. Augustine
When I scurried back to Christ, out of fear for my life, I thought everything from that point onwards would be really easy: life would be one blissful locution after another. But, what I did not understand was that my time in the world had left me damaged and dirty. I was literally ripped apart. In a very strange sense, I still wanted God. Only, the more I tried - the more I pushed Him away; held on to my old ways of thinking; and purposefully allowed the Lord to pass right through me; I retained nothing. I was hate-filled and terrified. I wanted safety, but I did not feel secure enough to reveal myself: wounds and all. For a while, I liked God less. He hadn’t performed a miracle on me; He didn’t lift me into the clouds; He hadn’t protected me. I blamed Him for much.
Soon after returning to the Sacraments, I bought myself a rather nice rosary: with crystal beads and sterling silver crucifix. I liked this rosary; it felt good and heavy in my hands. Then, somehow I misplaced it. I looked in earnest, but it never turned up – I thought I inadvertently left it in some church. About a month later, it inexplicably reappeared in my clothes dryer. It must have been in some pair of pants or jacket that I just washed. I heard the clanking noise from the machine and found the rosary intact, but the beads were somewhat chipped and scratched. I was thankful, yet, when I touched it, the beads no longer felt smooth and reassuring, but rough and almost sharp. Nevertheless, I had a sentimental attachment to this rosary, and I went back to praying with it. Gradually, the beads became smoother as they worked through my fingers.
Now, this incident reminds me of when the Lord saved my life. For, this was not so much a singular event, but a process. Like sea glass, that is tossed about by the waves, and ground down by the action of the sand and salt water, we too must be refined and made soft to the touch. This buffing procedure is time consuming and painful. For, there is a stripping away, almost like a spiritual acid wash that must take place; as we are covered in years of disobedience and perversity. The reason this hurts is because we fight against it; we struggle when swept up by the pounding waves. What we should do is allow ourselves to be inundated by Him; completely annihilated by His love. Only, this requires an extreme amount of Trust. And, when we have given our life over to the world, either in a porn or sex addiction, we are left self-guarded and skeptical.
Slowly, I realized that the more I fought against what the Lord was doing with me, the more exhausted I became. And, as the once damaged rosary beads slipped repeatedly through my hand and became easier to hold, so too did I. Seemingly, it took forever, as I am obstinate and prideful. At first, I thought that I could do it on my own; and in a less stressful and more comfortable manner. I would prove my worth to God; I would be the champion. Not surprisingly, I couldn’t do it. Although I had gotten myself into this mess, I was powerless to get out. The problem was just too big. And, after all those years of pretending, I gave up the endless thrashing, and decided to let the winds of God take me where He wanted. He had been waiting; and the struggle had crushed me down; made my edges less jagged; and made me more humble. I could listen, and I was willing to accept Him. The battle had brought me low, as one failure piled upon another. The fight had been tough, mostly because of my over-inflated sense of self-reliance and constant vacillating between the two worlds of good and evil; but somehow along the way, I was able to share in Christ’s cross, and this caused me to oftentimes huddle closer to Him; for, I saw Him suffer too; and He became less frightful; less judgmental, and more Forgiving in my eyes. Then, I Loved Him; and I knew that He Loved me. That was the miracle.