My Thorn in the Flesh - one among many

My family moved from northern Iowa to the southwest corner of the state during the summer before my senior year of high school.

I was angry with my parents for most of the 1981-82 school year. And that wasn't the only attitude problem I had that year.

I was one of three new students at Manning High School. The other two were two foreign exchange students from Kenya and Germany (as I recall).

Manning had a tradition. Foreign exchange students were featured in the school paper, encouraged to join every extracurricular activity, and they were automatically on the Homecoming Queen/King Court.

Students who moved to the Manning school district from another Iowa school district didn't receive the same treatment.

And I was green with envy.

I tried out for the flag team and made it. I auditioned for the school play and made it. But nothing could appease my jealousy. I was angry that I had to work for new friendships - not an easy task when one enters a new school as a senior. Friendships take time. Effort. But the student body laid down the welcoming mat for exchange students. Everyone wanted to be their friend.

It was a classic case of jealousy.

There are moments when I still wrestle with this emotion. Oh, I'm not as immature about it. I recognize the attitude when it comes along, and I offer my weakness up. I get on my knees and let the Holy Spirit get me rightly ordered before I have a chance to mess up the good thing He has going in me.

What is it that tempts me? Who are the foreign exchange students in my adult world? And what's the name of the school I've transferred to?

The school is the Catholic faith. The foreign exchange students are the former Protestant clergy and their wives who are featured on Catholic radio and television. The red carpet of Catholic publishing spreads out before them. As Catholic speakers, they are in high demand.

Protestant preachers' daughters and ex-wives of Protestant ministers . . . not so much.

I am ashamed of myself when these emotions enter my spiritual journey like a virus. I remind myself that it is not the temptation that is sinful . . . it is what I choose to do with it. It can be a moment of grace. Or it can be a sin against grace.

With God's help, I let it be an opportunity to identify with the little ones who live the Catholic faith with quiet, hidden tenacity and a heart for those who are even smaller and weaker and poorer. My heart finds this longing sweet with no bitter aftertaste.

That's when I realize that God has given me precisely the right amount of exposure. Just enough to use my talents. And no more, lest I forget the author of the journey and lose all that He has done.

My Thorn in the Flesh - one among many

What They Are Missing

Father Gabriel is St. Pio's kind of priest. When I taught in a Catholic high school, the students returning from the Sacrament of Confession would complain sometimes. "Father Gabriel listens to our confession and then he asks us questions about sins we didn't even name. I don't think that's right. He asks us about sins against purity even! Puts us on the spot. Do you have any sins against purity that you need to confess today? Oh, that's so not right!" And they would slump into their seat and pout a little at that point.

I wasn't Catholic then - just a Spanish teacher in a Catholic high school. But I had a memory from my own high school days that gave me wisdom and helped me to have the right words.

When I was in high school, I remember sitting in Algebra class. We'd finished our homework assignment, and we were talking quietly. I guess the Catholic kids were getting ready for Confession at their parish, because they were talking about it. They asked each other what do you say at Confession - do you really say what you did? No, I just say I hit my sister or got mad at Mom. Stuff like that. I remember thinking about their Sacrament - as an outsider looking in. And I remember saying to myself, "That can't be the way it's supposed to go. That can't be right."

When I became a teacher at Beckman High School, I made sure that I underscored the importance of a good confession and the squandered opportunity of a bad confession. And when they complained about Father Gabriel's confessional, I didn't let it stand. I made sure they knew that it was for their own good - for the good of their souls. And they needed to get over their little tantrum right then and there.

We know that adults can cause scandal, when they do not practice the faith in a rightly-ordered way, yet they flaunt their version of faith in public, in high-profile positions, in places of power.

But even young people can cause scandal, when they do not practice the faith in a rightly-ordered way, yet they flaunt their version of the faith in public. Perhaps in a public school, even. Perhaps in the presence of a Protestant preacher's kid.

Even our young ones need to know that this Catholic faith is the most important thing to us. That it is worth practicing. That it is worth practicing correctly. That it is worth sharing. And that it is worth sharing correctly.

When I speak about the Sacrament of Confession - now that I'm Catholic - my eyes fill with tears, and I tell my dear ones, oh, you don't know what you are missing. Those words of absolution, that chance to bring out all that I have done and all that I haven't done - and to just lay it down. To hear words from the mouth of the priest - and to have my spirit recognize the words of My Lord. My soul recognizes My Lord and My God! I don't know how that is possible. I just know that it is. I try to explain all of this to my non-Catholic friends, and I sigh finally and just end with, you don't know what you are missing! But, oh, how I wish you did!

What They Are Missing