Do We Really Believe In God's Mercy?

Saint Claude de la Colombiére.

"Lord, behold a soul that is in the world so that Thou may exercise Thine admirable mercy to make it shine before heaven and earth.

Others glorify Thee by showing, throughout fidelity and constancy, the power of Thy grace and how sweet and generous Thou art to those who are faithful to Thee. As for me, I will glorify Thee by manifesting how good Thou art to sinners. In me, Thou will show that Thy mercy is superior to all our malice, that nothing can exhaust it, and that no relapse, however shameful and capable it may be, should make a sinner lose hope in Thy forgiveness.

My beloved Redeemer, I have offended Thee gravely. But it would be worse still if I add to my offense the horrible outrage of thinking that Thou art not so good as to forgive me.

In vain Thin enemy- who is also mine- sets new snares for me daily. He may cause me to cast away everything except the hope I have in Thy mercy. Even if I fall a hundred times, and my sins were a hundred times more horrible Than what they are, I will always continue to hope in Thee."

...

When I read this prayer for the first time, it was life-changing for me.

Up until that point, I'm not sure if I could have said with a passion that I believed in the POWER of God's mercy. Honestly, I admit I didn't really believe it at all...

But to fully understand how I got from scarcely acknowledging the Mercy of the Almighty to striving to cleave onto its truth with my whole heart, we have to go back a long, long time and delve into my developing spiritual life. (I'm just kidding. It's actually quite a short span of time, considering the fact that for an 18 year old, 8 years of being Catholic isn't very long.)

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For about 4 years after my Baptism, Confirmation and First Holy Communion, I was incredibly gung-ho about my faith. I relished learning about everything the Catholic Church had to offer.

It was amazing!

Reading the lives and deaths of the saints- learning about the Sacraments- receiving the gift of the Body and Blood of Jesus Himself- cherishing the Old Testaments stories and holding onto them tightly- experiencing the roaring fire of truth that has been stoked and cared for by the Church for 2,000 years!

Wow.

It was a lot to take in. But as I said before, I LOVED every second of it.

(To give you some context, I have always been kind of a chump for learning new things. You know that kid who went to the library and checked out three or four Encyclopedias about Ancient Egypt, The Animal Kingdom, Bugs and Insects, and The Complete Collection of Horses? Yup. That was me. :)

To feel my mind surge with countless facts and new ideas was intoxicating for me.

Intellectually, I felt like I was on top of the Catholic world.

But internally?

Ah. Well! That introspective part of my life began to become hazy as I grew up.

For a 10 year old, it was too easy to be Catholic! My classmates almost admired me for my religious views and listened with some sort of respect to my vast array of knowledge.

But for an immature Catholic 14 year old? It was an entirely different landscape.

Around me on every side, my peers were growing up at an exhilarated pace. Most of them tried so incredibly hard to be the same age and maturity as their older siblings and many of them succeeded (on the outside, that is). They looked up to them, though I couldn't really see why.

All I knew was that I didn't want to be like them.

I actually liked being myself, even if no one else did, and I think that's why I was bombarded so relentlessly with the junk I hated so much.

I didn't want to dress like everyone else, I didn't want to talk like everyone else, I didn't want to spend my time like everyone else, I didn't want to think like everyone else, I didn't want to be like everyone else. I saw how unhappy they were, how they gossiped, sneered and fought with their "best friends," how they spun drama like a spindly spider's web. By George, how I hated it.

And I have no idea why or how, but somewhere along the line... I became just like everyone else.

(On the outside, that is).

And as far as the inside?

Oh boy!

Something had not only changed internally, but a sickness had begun to sour and ferment within me like a deadly poison.

I became distressed, sad, heartbroken, dreary and weary.

I became angry, deep down to my core.

"How could you do this? How could you let this happen? Who even are you anymore?"

Over and over and over again, my harsh questions pummeled my adolescent brain like a pounding fist.

Reason tried to reroute me, but I twisted it into my own, mad logic:

If I hate how my peers act, and now I act like them, then God must hate me as much as I hate myself.

Tragic, right?

I learned to hate myself, and I learned it a little too well.

As dawn broke the horizon of my 15th birthday, I gazed with tear-filled eyes behind me at those angry, sad years and realized that I had been through a lot (and a lot of it seemed like hell on Earth to me).

One especially bad experience thrust a dagger into my bruised heart and spun the blade inside my flesh like the blade of a blender. It refused to let go of me, no matter how far I tried to push it into my heart and hide it by burying deep, deep down.

I was ceaselessly depressed and everyone could see it.

Luckily for me though, Covid-19 gave me an opportunity in the form of "Quarantine."

It was perfect!

It gave me a well-needed break from my peers and a second chance at reforming my life.

I got to spend lots and lots of quality time with my beautiful family, my nuclear unit of safety and truth.

Quarantine really was a lifesaver for me.

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But the ride wasn't quite over.

My life had been saved, but not yet changed back.

I was still a wounded solider, a broken machine, a stone statue in need of renovation.

Somewhat unwillingly, I began to actually pray for my vocation, my purpose in life (though it seemed at times that there was no real meaning for my existence).

Still! I persisted.

I knew that the Catholic faith was right, and I knew that it was true.

I just had to steer my life of self-imposed tragedy towards it.

As I said before, I had started praying for sincere direction in the vicious storm of Life and God answered my prayer by sending me an anchor.

Not an actor to weigh me down and hold me back.

But an anchor to steady me, to bring me back to the narrow track, to keep me surrounded by the deep truth of God and His overwhelming love for me.

Ah, but how ironic it is that when God sent me what I prayed for, my instinct was to reject it!

Shortly after getting over myself and my stubborn refusal to accept what He had so clearly sent me, I now have the golden honor to call this anchor my best friend (who also happens to be my boyfriend :)

Through fidelity and constancy, the young man God had sent to me helped me remember a few critical aspects of love that I had completely forsaken and forgotten:

Love does not shy away from your mistakes, but encourages you and comforts you amidst your suffering.

Love pushes you onward, to greater things!

Love embraces you even when you scream and kick Him far, far away.

Love grieves over the sword you have in your heart as if He had the same sword.

Love carries your burdens, and in most cases, carries you as well.

Love respects your freely-chosen decision, even if it may be the wrong one.

Love never gives up on you.

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But how could I believe this? It seemed too good to be true.

As foolish as it sounds, there was my one stumbling block to accept the mercy of God:

"How can God love me, while I hate myself?"

Or in other words, "Doesn't God get it? I have messed up so bad. Why can't He get with the program here? I say that I am UNLOVABLE, therefore I must be."

Hah! It was such a silly, heretical theology.

Even so, this was the reasoning I held onto up until the moment I read the prayer listed above, An Act of Confidence in Divine Mercy.

I had been casually flipping through a prayer book that was given to me awhile ago, and when I skimmed over that title, I admit that I scoffed aloud.

Confidence in Divine Mercy? I laughed to myself.

It sounded like one of those prayers that goes something like, "God. I'm confident You'll be proud of me when I say this whole rosary without falling asleep."

Nah. I thought, and went to keep flipping the pages.

But my gaze accidentally fell on the phrase,

"As for me, I will glorify Thee by manifesting how good Thou art to sinners."

Wait, what? I asked myself, confused, Hold on. What is this?

As I went back and reread it from beginning to end, my wide eyes welled with warm tears.

I had never heard anything like this before!

Sure, I had meditated on various devotions on spirituality, but this? This was just different.

For so long, I had been internally conflicting about which was better: to always be good and never fall, or to fall and get back up again?

This prayer answered me, perfectly.

"Lord, behold a soul that is in the world so that Thou may exercise Thine admirable mercy to make it shine before heaven and earth.

Others glorify Thee by showing, throughout fidelity and constancy, the power of Thy grace and how sweet and generous Thou art to those who are faithful Thee.

As for me, I will glorify Thee by manifesting how good Thou art to sinners.

In me Thou will show that Thy mercy is superior to all our malice, that nothing can exhaust it, and that no relapse, however shameful and capable it may be, should make a sinner lose hope in Thy forgiveness."

Wow. How extremely beautiful! What encouraging, breathtaking words!

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Before then, I had been so jealous of those people in my life who were just so good. Those saints who obviously had their own personal struggles but handled them with such ease and grace! Their struggles seemed so innocent next to mine, almost like their struggles were holy struggles, and hardly sins at all! I envied them immensely, and resigned to try my hardest to be exactly like them.

This only resulted in discouragement, jealousy and anger at them, myself and God.

I was jealous of my friends who never seemed to get depressed, to get angry, to have a rough day that took over their mindset and brought their spirits so low they felt like giving everything up.

I was discouraged that I would never become a saint and would always continue to be the person who said the wrong thing, felt the wrong emotion at the wrong time, and did the wrong deed.

I was angry at God because He was not MAKING ME into who I wanted to be, and He seemed content to just let me be who I am without changing me to be like the many people I admired.

So I gave up trying to be "good."

Another episode of melancholy ensued, dragging me into dark despair once more.

My anchor, my boyfriend tried so often to help, but in my eyes, he was (and still is!) one of those people who was just so good! I couldn't stand to take his advice while I stood by and witnessed his "holy struggles" and small mistakes. I felt ashamed to open up to him, because I thought my struggles were so big, so messy and so serious.

I can see now that the same way I felt with him, I felt towards God.

"God," I would pray apologetically, "I am trying very hard to believe that You love me unconditionally, but how can you love a daughter of Yours who just isn't good at the center of her being?"

"Child. In you I will show that My mercy is superior to anyone's malice, that nothing can exhaust it, and that no relapse, however shameful and capable it may be, should make a sinner lose hope in My forgiveness." God replied to me, softly and tenderly.

What lovely words!

I cried as I read them for the first time, and my heart aches still.

Saint Claude must have wrote this prayer directly for me, haha.

Instead of focusing all of my time, effort and attention on trying to be good, to be better, to be pleasing to God, I should look for the instances in which He uses my brokenness, my emptiness and my malice as a display of His awesome grace of everyday conversion. By my sins and depravity, I can be a witness of how God can rejuvenate anyone, since He did it for a sinner like me.

Just like Mary Magdalene (who is a saint close to my heart), my sins would not be my condemnation, but my repentance and acceptance of God's mercy would be my salvation.

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But this is not all we have to gain by reflecting on Saint Claude's words!

There is a second part to his prayer.

"My beloved Redeemer," he writes, "I have offended Thee gravely. But it would be worse still if I add to my offense the horrible outrage of thinking that Thou art not so good as to forgive me."

Hah! Another arrow to pierce my balderdash heart!

In consequence to those doubts of mine which we have previously addressed, I admit I had another preconception about God's heart.

I thought (foolishly) that if I were to beat myself without mercy and bring my sanity to the utmost brink of splintering, I would somehow be deserving of the mercy of God.

I did not believe God's mercy was free! After all, everything comes at a price, doesn't it?

Yes. Yes, God's mercy did come at a price!

And it was bought by the blood of His Only Begotten Son spilling down His lacerated back as He hung, fastened to the wooden cross of hatred!

But I didn't always remember that.

Because of this wicked preconception I had, the sight of the Cross used to make me a little angry.

"Jesus, why did you do it? It was for nothing. I am still a dirty, rotten sinner. You died for nothing."

Oh, such harsh words to say in the presence of His Sacred Heart, which burns brighter than the Sun with passionate love for me!

Forgive me, Jesus, for "adding to my offense the horrible outrage of thinking that Thou art not so good as to forgive me."

Additionally, the second part of Saint Claude's prayer continues with fervent, striking language,

"In vain Thin enemy- who is also mine- sets new snares for me daily. He may cause me to cast away everything except the hope I have in Thy mercy. Even if I fall a hundred times, and my sins were a hundred times more horrible than what they are, I will always continue to hope in Thee."

How absolutely, unapologetically RADICAL!

Does this not remind you of Jesus Christ throughout His entire Passion?

As the model of perfect excellence, He shows us how to place the entirety of our hope in God, despite our own sin and ugliness. He shows us that God's mercy does not depend at all on our personal achievements, mistakes, stumbles or victories, but on our hope in Him!

Just as he did with Jesus, Satan will use every trick in the book to get us to lose our hope in God. He will spit lies in our ears, he will tempt us relentlessly to sin, he will condemn us the moment we listen and follow through with our evil plots.

Do not listen to him.

The devil is a liar and a cheat.

Listen to the gentle Pope Saint John Paul II as he authoritatively charges us, "Apart from the mercy of God, there is no other source of hope for mankind."

Dear Reader,

We cannot give up on God! For our God does NOT give up on us.

We must fashion our hope to match that of Our Lady of Sorrows as she stood beneath the bloodstained cross and gazed into the fading face of her Beloved Son.

How her heart broke with lament to see the horror of such a death!

Our hearts must break to see the horror of our vile sin.

How her soul shivered with grief to see her Son in such agony upon His wooden throne!

Our souls must shiver to see our Savior beaten by our own hands, though He is innocent of the crimes which make Him die!

How her hands reached desperately for the white feet of her Son and kissed the nail which drove it's mark through His virginal flesh!

Our hands must reach for His feet as we nail our wayward hearts there with the same nail.

How His pain became her pain, to the extent that when His heart was thrust with the lance of man's ingratitude, she also felt it in her radiant bosom!

Our hearts be lanced by our own ingratitude in response to His fiery love for us.

But most importantly! We cannot forget how our Blessed Mother Mary stood by her Son and kept her eyes open.

Though they were brimmed with stinging tears, her open eyes signified her open heart.

Mary hoped in the Resurrection, even as she watched the Crucifixion unfold.

So when we experience the pain of our own sins and crucifixions, let us, like Mary, hope in the coming resurrection of our minds, thoughts, hearts and souls!

To close, let me end by paraphrasing the humble words of Saint Claude de la Colombiére:

Even if we fall a hundred times, and our sins are a hundred times more horrible than what they are, let us always continue to hope in Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Redeemer!

~ K.k.W

July 2, 2023; 4:45 p.m.