during the homily….the priest talked about faith despite the madness that’s going on in the world…he had four funerals to preside over last week…he talked about the bombing of Catholic Churches in Iraq…and other current events…
he then spoke about faith….the type of faith that doesn’t have a disclaimer like “i think” i believe….but more about “i know” i believe.
my mind wanders in and out of these homilies…i try to focus…but sometimes i can’t help myself. sometimes i daydreamed about being home, in CA, with Mark. other times I imagine going to church in Europe.
today was different…i felt a chill as I looked up to the window dome, overhead. it was a chill that left me struggling for my next breath…i felt a thought being forced down my throat…what about my faith in other people?
at the beginning of the mass, when we called to mind our moments of weakness and sin…i apologized for getting on my high horse….for taking the high road on ethics and dececny with my classmates and my professors. yeah, let’s be honest…i got self-righteous on the whole subject and that’s not cool.
so during the homily…that chill…that thought….what about my faith in other people?
i didn’t call Mark before I went to bed….I was still wrapped up in my own self-loathing. I didn’t want to draw out the conversation….I didn’t eat dinner and I didn’t have the energy to anaylze it…..but I did anyways…because he called me. I tried to explain about hope-during-the-whole-depression thing. He thought I understood the whole being stressed-over-work thing. I’m not sure if he now understands what I meant about being positive. He said it sounded like I was giving up on him. I told him it sounded like this Europe trip was more trouble than it’s worth. I’m not sure if we understand each other. I went to bed hungry and exhausted.
during the homily…another thought struck me….one more chill…what about my faith in my family?
it’s been one year and four months ago (April 19, 2003), I was sexually assaulted by a massage therapist. He’s still operating in California. no one can stop him. In the time, I’ve told my boyfriend, Wes, Jennie, Ate’ Gigi, Auntie Nellie, my therapist, my boss, the human resources manager at work, the UCPD officers, two of my professors at Medill, six Medill students, and six Berkeley friends.
I haven’t told my parents or David. I’ve worked so damn hard to be respectable in their eyes. I don’t want them to disown me.
But at that homily, I knew….I can’t keep this from them anymore. I need to have faith them. I need to give them the chance to show me that they will still love me, after being so violated. I knew it in my heart. I started tearing up in the pews. Next month, I can tell my parents when they visit me in Chicago. At least I’ll have Mark by my side, when I tell them. I need to tell them.
I imagined telling them in a hotel room….while I sat in the pew. My stomach clutch and I couldn’t breathe…I was terrified.
But it’s the right thing to do.
Hmmm…maybe I shouldn’t force Mark to be there when I tell my parents.
So yeah…whether it was my urging or God’s will….but I plan on telling my parents what happened….next month.
pray for me.
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