“It is useless to flog a tired mind…”

“It is useless to flog a tired mind, useless to reproach a tired heart; the only way to God, when we are tired out, is the simplest wordless act of faith.”  Caryll Houselander, Britsh mystic, poet and spiritual teacher.

I have read and reread this several times since yesterday, it was the meditation for Tuesday, July 19th in the Magnificat.  Doug and I are both battling fatigue and the above words were a comfort, like finding a kindred spirit, someone who can put into words what is beyond us to articulate. This is all uncharted territory. There are still so many loose ends to tie up, paperwork that still needs to be done, decisions to be made…we have already made so many decisions, pushed on through painful tasks…you long for a window to look out, where there is serenity, not a reminder of what still needs to be done. I think of the analogy of work horses harnessed together, pulling for all they are worth…there is nothing to be gained by flogging them…they cannot pull any more, you will get no more work out them, you will only break them if you continue to beat them.

This grief process is so strange. It follows you everywhere, even to Walmart. It is still odd to be out among people, noise…your mind is constantly dueling with twin realities in your brain…a part of your brain is either whispering to you, or sometimes it shouts at you…”Justin is dead..how can that be?”  At the same time while your brain is either whispering or shouting, you are in the middle of the aisle with a list, trying to remember what you are there for, what thing were you supposed to purchase. Flogging a tired mind….

It is hard to meet parents of kids that Justin went to school with, they speak in the past tense, “wow, that must have been so hard,” like the event is over, its nearly a year after all. You learn to smile, be gracious, inside you are reminded of why you hate going out in public. The headache returns and finally you pin down what it is, it is the headache of unshed tears, the shame and tension of grief that must be placed behind a retaining wall through the day so that you can function, but much like flood waters, it builds in intensity. Your options are to “sandbag” a higher wall, a stronger wall because you don’t dare feel the pain or allow even a crack, knowing that the artfully crafted edifice will most likely crumble. Flogging a tired mind, reproaching a tired heart.

A tired mind can’t always sleep. I find that those moments of trying to fall asleep the hardest, most vulnerable. The desire to see your child and hear their voice only intensifies the longer they are gone, it is at times all consuming, unbearable, time does not make it easier. Images of their face pass before your mind’s eye, your ear even listens to hear their footstep and there is no relief for the pain that is wrapping around your chest. Discipline keeps you in bed..knowing you must sleep, having faith that you will sleep.  Perhaps that is what Houselander meant when she wrote of  “the simplest wordless act of faith.”  Is that the childlike faith we must try to have, how often I knew that if I could just get the boys to lie still, sleep would come, sleep that they desperately needed.

I reach for my rosary, I always have one under my pillow…can’t sleep unless it is there. It is like holding Mary’s hand…most nights it is a “wordless act of faith”, for my mind cannot put the prayers in place… I can muster the first line, Ave Maria gratia plena…over and over and sleep comes…dreamless sleep…hard sleep.  Some nights I fall asleep holding my scapular, its like holding on to a corner of Mary’s mantle.

Tuesday’s are traditionally the day to recite and pray the Sorrowful Mysteries.  The Second Sorrowful Mystery is the Scourging at the Pillar.  It made me think of “flogging the tired mind”…how often do we continue to flog Christ in our brothers and sisters,  not physically, but mentally and emotionally.  Not seeing the suffering in their life, their already bloody back from shouldering burdens…the quick whiplash of our tongue strikes before we think…

I don’t think I got past the second mystery yesterday…it takes me forever to complete a Rosary, especially when I am stopped at a mystery. I have finally learned to just sit with it and not run off to scurry through the rest of the mysteries just to say I finished. Its almost like mentally finding a rock to sit on off the path, to be present at the scourging in your mind…it is easier to run from the horror of the moment than to sit and be humbled by how much you are loved. People are fond of saying that “we deserve good things” or that we “deserve a break”, I always cringe inside when I hear that. I know that I deserve nothing, I cannot go to God and tell Him that I deserve His grace, His mercy, His gifts….better to go begging with empty hands and to trust that  God who poured out His Precious Blood for us, will be as generous with His mercy.

As the visions of Justin’s drowning play in my mind through the day…and they do…the car flips and rolls, his head hits…the cars rolls into the pond, upside down. I can even hear being

underwater…can I in this moment, give thanks to God for His mercy? God is Mercy, He can not be  merciful one moment and not merciful the next…in His integrity of Omnipotence, Omniscience, God is Love and Mercy in that moment and every moment. That singular moment when my boy sucked in lungfuls of water, can I,  in that moment find His mercy?  Was Justin’s drowning a gentle mercy, did God the Father allow Him to gently and quietly return to His house as a beloved son, a long waited for son?  The answer must be yes. We don’t know the extent of Justin’s head injury, we can not know, we can only trust. I go through Justin’s small journal, a place where he jotted all sorts of things…notes from trumpet and flute lessons, class schedules, reading lists…favorite quotes…I find the quote below:

“Sayings of Our Lord must be remembered again and again; and we will find they will never come into our mind without bringing their attendant stars of comfort with them.”

Fr. Vincent McNabb, O.P.,  “Stars of Comfort: Retreat Conference” London, Catholic Book Club   More on Fr. McNabb, O.P

“Their attendant stars of comfort”…I think Justin has introduced me to another good friend of his. A third party Amazon seller has a copy of the above…the seller’s note says that this particular copy belonged to a convent and that the dust jacket is in excellent condition… well of course.  I often feel, that by God’s grace, He has allowed Justin to leave us this string of pearls to follow, little stepping stones to help us on this journey we are on…sometimes I fear that it will stop, that we will exhaust all the pearls and that there will be no more. But like Fr. McNabb said above, we must remember the sayings of our Lord again and again.

The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, His mercies are not spent; They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness.   Lamentations 3:22-23