Getting Back Into a Prayer Routine

Returning home from school comforts and excites many college students.  A room and a bed wait for them, where they will spend the most of their mornings for a good while if they can help it.  They eat food that is familiar and infinitely better than cafeteria food.  A summer job is the only and minor bump in a time that the student is ultimately free to do as he pleases.  Family and old friends gather around to hear funny stories about bad professors, and they go down to the beach or to a water park, or else sunbathe in the front lawn.

But even if the summer break is not quite so pleasant, for most students, summer signals a change in lifestyle and schedule.  Sometimes, the habits one acquired during the semester broke as soon as packing began.  If you're still not back into a spiritual routine, never fear.  There's still time.

1) Accountability.  Look around and see if there's someone who can hold you accountable.  Agree that you'll both go to church or pray at a certain time.  This person doesn't have to be physically present for this to work.  If you pray for each other during this commitment, it'd suck to be the one who skipped.  You don't need a prayer partner, but if you know someone who would be good at it, it will help a bunch.

2) Conflicts.  It's okay if other things get in the way.  If it's an unforeseen problem, don't sweat it.  Maybe say a quick prayer at some point and then continue your commitment the next day.  Try to keep conflicts from throwing you off indefinitely.  If the conflict is going to be regular, reschedule something so you can fit in your commitment somewhere.

3) Personal touch.  Just because it is scheduled, frequent, and regular doesn't mean it has to feel routine and boring.  I read somewhere a suggestion that you should not bring literature to prayer time.  Exhaust your own heart before reading the words from other hearts.  Bring yourself to prayer.  At first this might be hard and awkward.  A journal might help.  Even if you have writer's block, try.  Tell God what has happened since you last prayed and how you feel about it.  But also, remember to praise Him and thank Him.  Praise is not only due Him but it also gives you perspective.

• Pray for someone you care about.  Pray for a conversion, or safety, or success, or peace, or happiness.  Or pray for someone you don't like.  You'll find peace in a prayer for their happiness.

Don't subscribe to a religion or a spirituality with routine prayer?  The closer you want to be with someone, the more time you spend with them.  'Tis a fact.

Swimming (3 Key Elements of a Thriving Long-Distance Relationship)

For the first time in my life, I am somebody's girlfriend.  It took time; but really, the whole thing happened quite fast.  Given my lack of experience and because I usually put 100% into my relationships, I was unwilling to jump into this.  But within a few months of knowing him, there I was – a "girlfriend."

About a month in, it became a long-distance relationship.  Most college relationships become "long-distance" when break roles around, but this is different.  For us, the holidays began a year-long separation.  I went to Europe when school started up again in the Spring, and he will be in Europe when school begins again in the Fall – this is called, I hear, the "Austria year."  It's summer now so I suppose we're about halfway through.

I remember, when I began dating, a friend of mine sent a text message to congratulate me.  The conversation wasn't very memorable, short as it was, but I do remember one thing very clearly – when she found out about our study abroad plans, she warned me that couples don't usually survive the Austria year.  As you may imagine, I ended the conversation pretty quickly after that.  I couldn't help but text my boyfriend to tell him that something was upsetting me.  So we talked on the phone about it for awhile, and we both decided we could make it through the separation.  We wanted to.

Over six months later, the two of us are stronger together than we were before.  With every trip-up and rough night, long day and low grade, we shook and stood.  Each messaging session or Skype conversation, however awkward or one-sided – however imperfect, we grew closer.  A long-distance relationship is tough, but it is so incredibly good.  The distance strips away much of the superficiality and in the darkest moments reveals the moonstone underneath.  If the relationship survives the stripping, it comes out alive and beautiful.  It's hard to explain what I mean.

I'm not saying that a long-distance relationship is not romantic.  My boyfriend arranged to have a vase of flowers, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of wine waiting for me outside my door one day – just because I'd been having a rough time he said.  We wrote letters – I wrote one nearly every day at first while I was in Europe.  Even now, while we're both in the states, we send each other notes and letters just to say: "I love you."

And that's not something that started with distance.  The first letters were exchanged before we were dating.  We had an awkward (and adorable) beginning (if I may boast).  So many thoughts and concerns were discussed and explained in clumsy but naked detail; and when not face-to-face, our feelings were articulated in ink.

I think those letters stood for an important truth of our relationship: he and I – we – are more than just a fling.  Our relationship was not exactly a sudden leap of faith.  Looking back over our relationship so far, I see myself treading water, praying and trusting in God to teach me to swim.  Everything was handled with delicate care and tender precision.  I wanted to get it right.  We both did.  We each want to be with the other long-term, whatever it takes.

While I was in Europe, communication was difficult.  We could not share play-by-play as we usually would.  When we were both awake and available, we might ask what the other was doing that day, but a text message summary could hardly serve.  Letters were invaluable for this purpose.  We can still share in each others' daily lives – successes, failures, frustrations, and contemplations – if weeks later.  In letters, we could express thoughts or feelings that are hard to articulate aloud, for one reason or another, or in a more elegant and meaningful style than a text message could manage.

Sometimes, before I left for Europe, others would advise me to set a day and time for Skype calls to make sure communication happened regularly.  I confess, I fully intended to set appointments.  But it turns out that two people in love will have no trouble setting time aside to see and hear each other.  And can I admit something to you?  I hate Skype.  I hate it with a passion.  You call a person and then suddenly you're staring at their face.  That's pretty much it.  The comfort and cushion of body language and spatial context is non-existent here.  You have to stare at them the whole time or seem distracted (or be legitimately distracted, as I usually was), which is unnatural.  And is video quality ever good?  And yet even so, I would get to missing his face so much that I loved the invention of video chat.  Even at the beginning, when I still felt loathing for the thing, my boyfriend and I had no trouble picking dates off the calendar as we went.  We wanted so much to know the other and experience the other.

We may not have been the solution to each others' problems every time, but we shared in them anyway.  Any concerns we had or daily problems we faced were discussed, even with the timezone trouble.  We were willing and able to share our vulnerability, but I also had to be mature enough to admit that having a boyfriend did not fix everything.  Sometimes I would get off the phone with him and feel like crying my eyes out because I was so lonely and talking to him hadn't seemed to change anything.  I know nothing I could have said lessened his reading homework or improved his track performance.  We just had to plug on, putting credit where it's due.

If anyone asked me what is getting me through this long distance relationship, I'd say, "He is."  And lots of prayer.  I have plenty of doubts and fears – including why this relationship should be any different from others, how could I know that when he does such-and-such it is not like when so-and-so did such-and-such, and what if it goes too far too fast and everything falls to pieces around me: like other relationships in the past, I won't be able to fix it.  But he stands sufficiently for himself as evidence against my objections, each one.  If I took any one little doubt all by itself, it would be enough.  I could dump him on the basis of that one doubt; but I would have to reduce everything that he is to that one doubt, and the truth is that I just can't.  In his entirety – even when I'm frustrated that he has to cut a call short or I'm feeling tired because he's been having a rough time and it's all we talk about – in his entirety, he sets my heart in awe.  He is truly and deeply a human being, and he shares himself exclusively with me.  We are so close and he is so right for me that I cannot imagine breaking up with him.  I would have to load my heart up on Novocaine.  He is a person.  He is worth waiting for.  He is worth supporting until times get better.

When I'm praying, I often ask God to explain what I don't understand, to show me how to be wisely selfless, and to help me love my boyfriend more than he loves me – just for competition sake.  I think he is probably better at consistently praying about and for us, but nonetheless, prayer helps me to remember the moments when I felt sure and confident, and when I remember why I felt like I did then, I feel it again.  Praying allows me to step into my panic and figure out what is lurking there.  More often than not, I find just a speck of dust that hasn't been addressed yet is all that sits at the source.  But when it is more complicated or more elusive, I pray to thank God for the good, and I pray to ask for clarity, and I make a resolution to take my blessed time judging this fear that has crept up on me.

And then I usually talk to my boyfriend about it.

We both know what we want out of life and the visions are more or less compatible.  In the slower moments, we spend time figuring out the details we each personally want for the future, after college and beyond.  We discover ourselves through each other, and I often find that he's talking about details that I haven't figured out yet.  So we discuss them.  We discuss just about everything.

So really, distance isn't all that hard, because we have:

1. True love, if I may be so bold as to presume that which many scoff.  We each want the best for the other, which means a deep knowledge of the other and deep sacrifice of self for the other.  Each fervently wants to be the cause of the other's happiness.
2. Maturity.  Again, I may seem presumptuous but I will declare it anyway.  We may not always act mature, but we try to be mature about our immaturity.  We recover, we discuss, and we go on.  We admit that there is more to life than the bubble of our love, but nothing is too great to fit inside it.  Our relationship is not showy and we do not share it with others (i.e., drama, gossip; e.g., it is not Internet recognized, except for the occasional picture).  At the same time, it does not isolate us from others.
3. A desire to share.  A desire to communicate.  Trust that enables us to do so.  Compatibility of character, experience, education, and aspirations that bind us together.

This isn't a checklist of elements that can just be inserted into the relationship.  These have to be the relationship.  Certainly a long distance relationship can look different from what I have with my boyfriend; but the longing to be with the other, know the other, and love the other – that must be there.  I see no way around it.  And though I know couples often do without, I cannot begin to imagine how a relationship survives without the common ground of God and the common labor for holiness.  You need that grounding in order to truly be one flesh one day.  No matter what interests you have or varying hobbies, the work toward holiness is never done, is never completed.  It's a task, a goal that eternally unites persons, creating that life-long commitment we covet so deeply.

For a while, we held off dating because I was scared, and I used the inevitable distance as an excuse.  I wouldn't say that my fears were foolish, but I know we made the right decision in the end – it was so worth it.  All the rough spots and the moments of panic were worth it.  People doubted; perhaps especially because this was my first relationship, people doubted.  I can't blame them – I doubted too.  But any lasting relationship should have what it takes to brave the distance, and I think that by some miracle I have found that kind of relationship.  Could a couple know that they'll last when they're just starting out?  I'm not sure we could have.  But we learn it day by day.

Living Lent

Today's readings are, I think, very relevant for the beginning of Lent.  I especially had in mind emulators of St. Francis of Asissi and other charismatic Christians when I heard this reading.  Of course, I examined myself, too, and it made me think.

Lent is a time of preparation to renew our baptismal vows.  I know that for me, Ash Wednesday is a real test of my faith.  I have fasted many times before, even voluntarily, but something about Ash Wednesday every year, I realize that my faith is not necessarily going to be easy.  I have been especially focused on the martyrs lately and it just made me realize... I could be faced withe choice to suffer greatly.

I was in the city today and I wanted so badly to buy food as I walked through the city and try different delectables.  But it is Ash Wednesday.  The Church decreed that Catholics must fast on Ash Wednesday.  And I didn't wanna.  But I did anyway -- and this was not even that big of a sacrafice really.  I was just choosing to not eat between meals.

So if that speaks to you this year, reflect on it a bit.  There are Christians who were flayed alive, dipped in oil, cut in pieces -- and they could have averted their torture easily but did not.  I hope I could be that strong, but I certainly do not want to be flayed alive.

But that is not what today's Gospel got me thinking about.

"Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them; for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven."

I have found -- maybe you have experienced this -- that some people brag about their Lenten sacrifices or just go around like it is a status symbol.  St. Francis said, "Preach the Gospel at all times.  When necessary use words."  This is very good advice, but I feel like we can throw it out the window when it comes to Lenten sacrifices.  We'd run the risk of approaching Lent the wrong way.  My goal is to discourage the idea that Lenten sacrifices are about showing the world something.

Because ultimately, the point of Lenten sacrifices is to prepare ourselves and our world for Christ's Passion, Death, and Resurrection.  It is not about telling ourselves and everyone around us that, "IT IS LENT."  It is more important to get to the root of our sins and the root of what distracts us from Christ.

A priest at Mass today told us, "I don't care about how many times you did it.  I care about why you did it.  What is the source?  That's what you need to repent."

During Lent, you can give up chocolate or Facebook if you want to and if it would be effective for your spiritual life in some way (which I am sure it would be).  But more importantly, maybe you should focus on your sins, on reevaluating your spiritual life and your relationship with God.

We do not "disfigure our faces" but we sometimes get caught up in the thrill of Lent, if you could call it that.  "Argh!  I can't eat that!" or "Aw man, I gave that up but I want it so bad!"  What kind of sacifice is it if you complain about it and boast to your friends?  Or if you make a big show of your Holy Hour or your extra Masses and prayer?  Are you doing it for the show and the way it will outwardly and superficially effect your life?  Or are you doing it to become holier and prepare to be more properly receptive to the fullness of the Triduum?

I don't know if I am getting my point across.

If you are amongst other Christians or Catholics especially, it is tempting to make Lent a thing of show.  And yes, of course, your faith shouldn't be a private, hidden activity; but your faith should not become visible during Lent.  It should be becoming real.  If it is real, it will come through on its own.

"So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven."

Light the light and let it shine.  Don't let your spiritual life be recognized for your sacifices but for your love and joy:

"By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."

"The prospect of the righteous is joy."

Life Lessons on Life's Lane

"Faithless is he who says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli.

If there is only one thing in this world that I leave my mark on when I die, I hope it is friendship.  Friendship – that painful, powerful thing that can strengthen a fortress or break a soul.  It stems from love, from loyalty, from duty and dedication.  Friendship can be a smile, no matter the weather, or it can be breaking your back to bear heavy burdens.

I think dying for one is more important than living for many.

But perhaps I'm a fool.

Friendship is tight, close bonds that no one and nothing can break.  Friendship is listening for five minutes to someone on the bus or on the sidewalk – someone in the hallway, the lunchroom, the supermarket.  Friendship is wishing the good of another; it is hoping beyond rumors.  It is love and it is loyalty to man – but not as a collective group; for there, friendship is not relevant.  Friendship is relevant on the personal, individual level.  Where the person is involved, rather than the people, friendship is everything.  Or nothing.  It either is… or it isn't.  Friendship isn't "here one day, not so much the next."  That is not selflessness, which is the essence of friendship.

"Maybe," said Elrond, "but let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

Friendship says this: "I will walk the path of life with you, no matter what is waiting there."  It does not say, "I shall fight all thy battles whilst thou rest thy golden head upon thy silken pillow."  That is not inherently found in the meaning of friendship.  It does not say, "I will go wheresoever you will go," for there are many decisions that we cannot make but which are made by others.  Friendship does say, "Wherever you go, whatever you do – I am here to give what grace God has through me to give you."

Life is a walk we must all take; why ignore the other travelers?  If even one person does not glean wisdom from the other hikers and share what supplies he has, the journey will be hindered.  If everyone on the path gave everything they had to helping each other along, each person would have the chance to get the most out of the journey.

In one sense, abandonment of our fellow man is impossible, save through death.  Even though limitations, weaknesses, and obstacles may vary per traveler, the goal is the same – happiness and peace in this life and the next.  What is there to gain from keeping your resources to yourself?  That only makes the journey that much lonelier, that much harder.

Nightfall will come; may as well vow to walk in the dark.  "Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart."

Speaking practically:

Of course, you must chose your friends carefully.  I have heard this wisdom many times.  But there are very few legitimate reasons to actually avoid a certain person.  Whenever you decide to keep your life utterly separate from someone else's life, you ought to have exhausted every other healthy possibility in which you can give of yourself for them.  If all that fails, you still have prayer.

Pray.  Pray that they find happiness.  Pray that they find God and grow in holiness.  Pray that they are granted every grace, including knowledge of God's will.  But I strongly caution against specifically praying that a person change their mind or behavior.  Sometimes, you may be right (such as for abortion or drugs or suicide).  But other times, all you're really doing is fueling your pride: "God, Bobby Joe is convinced that he must do this ministry.  It's going to take a lot of his time and really stress him out.  He's already doing so much, and he seems to take ministry more seriously than his relationships.  I just pray that you turn his head around and show him the way."  The problem here is that, even if you know Bobby Joe inside and out, you may still be wrong about the situation.  Remember that you are not the one calling the shots.  Pray God's will be done; pray that Bobby Joe know God's love and wisdom in all he does.

Setting boundaries is sometimes necessary.

But always, always you should ask, "What does God want me to do for this person?  What grace has God given me that can help this person?"

And what lessons does this person have for you?