From First Class to the Last Row

Before I even get started...I have a book recommendation:

Blue Like Jazz
This book is awesome. Donald Miller is a fantastic writer with a voice (which I find similar to mine, which is comforting and familiar, and I therefore really relate to). He writes short chapters about little encounters with the Person of Christ, making Him more tangible and real. His stories are normal and part of the everyday, which "Listen in the Loo" is all about. So thank you, Donald Miller for your book. Buy it. Check it out at your library. Borrow it from a friend. Read it.

Anywho, down to business.

It has been quite some time since I've written. Oops. I have a good excuse though. Sort of...

I've been traveling for about a month with a certain program associated with a certain youth conference. It has been quite the month. I think I got on about 9 flights within a 3 week period. I was airlined out, to say the least. I have realized that I love certain airlines...and loathe others. Funny story:

So on my way from one speaking gig to another, a dear friend of mine booked my flight in first class. I was sooooooo excited. I've never flown first class (nor have I ever been in a limo, but that's a story for another day) and I was about to pee my pants from the excitement of riding in style with actual leg room and a legit snack and drink on a flight. When I was seated in my first class seat, amid all the business profs, I totes looked out of place. Here I am, a 16 year old looking kid (I am most def NOT 16) sitting next to some high-class-McBusinesspants-kind-of-men, about to pee my pants from the opportunity to sit in my big cushy leather chair. (The above picture is a slight exaggeration of an actual situation....only slight.) All of the sudden, the stewardess, who was right in front of me because I was in first class and all, announced that we would be sitting on the runway for half an hour due to bad weather in our connecting city. No biggie. Then, the pilot came on to share the little gem of a newsbite that we were be deplaning because we didn't have enough fuel to wait there for an extra HOUR due to weather. Poop. I mean, I didn't poop, but I don't want to share the actual expletive that went through my head, this is a classy site. He also said that if we had a connection we should check at the gate for possible missing of flights. That would be me. So, I left my cushy chair and ran to the desk to talk to "the man". "The man" told me that I would miss my connecting flight and re-booked me for the next morning. I tried to be all professional (because I was in first class and pretty important in the world of flying) and used my big girl words to explain where and when I needed to be. Everything got squared away and I got picked up again at the airport to stay and extra night with the fam. The next day upon my arrival and check in, I came to find out that I was rebooked on a flight that had no first class. Not only that, but once I boarded, I realized I was rebooked into the LAST SEAT IN THE LAST ROW....NEXT TO THE BATHROOM. (Oh the irony.) Talk about humility. I went from being in a cushy first class seat one day to being exiled to the seat that didn't even recline next to the loo. Poop. Literally. There was poop at some point on the flight - not mine. I smelled it. Gross. I was pissed. I told the Lord (because we're close) that I knew He was laughing at me, in a kind and loving God kind of way) but I would "offer it up". So I did. Slash complain in my head. And to the lady next to me. Oops. Hey - don't hassle me, I'm human and virtue is hard.

While I was sitting next to the loo, it hit me, that I hadn't "heard" God speak to me in over a month. In all of the times that I had gone into the "sacred silence" of the bathroom, I got nothing. I have been in a time of desolation for a long time. Don't get me wrong, I'm no mystic or anything. But as you may have ready, I hear God speak to my heart in simple yet profound ways. Now...I've got nothing. I'm in what is referred to in the spiritual life as a time of desolation. (Check out the Catechism of the Catholic Church especially paragraph 2731.) There has been a lot of God speaking to me in my life - but now, I'm just kinda.....eh. Maybe you know what I'm talking about, feeling like you're all alone and God has turned His back on you. That's mos def not the case, but it feels like that sometimes. I could go on and on about this feeling of desolation, but I won't. I'm gonna go back to the hope - the consolation.

While I was in Rhode Island a couple weeks ago, I got the opportunity to go to confession with an awesome priest named Fr. Matt. He was so cool....he had Reef flip-flops with bottle openers on the bottom. Too legit to quit. Anyway, one thing he told me was that in times of desolation, you have to cling on to and go back to the consolation...when God was speaking very loud and clear. I know that I knew that in my head, but when he said it, it went straight down, smack dab in the middle of my heart. Just because I couldn't hear God didn't mean He wasn't with me or that His truth was not real. It was all the more real. His Word goes out and doesn't return void. God speaks that through His prophet Isaiah: "So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it." (Isaiah 55:11). While I feel like I've been walking in a long hallway towards a door and now the lights have been shut off on me....it doesn't mean the door moved. I have to keep walking and not change directions. It's croosh (that's crucial) for us, when we feel as if we're in a time of desolation, to keep walking...not to stop praying of turn away from God, but to PRAY MORE, DON'T CHANGE DIRECTIONS, and BE PATIENT.

Geesh, that is hard for me. Clearly, from my experience on the plane getting kicked to the last row from the first, I threw a mini-fit to myself. But I go back time and time again to God's Word, which is always accomplished, and to the truth Fr. Matt spoke to me, and that of the people who know my heart best and I press on, sometimes begrudgingly, but I keep on. I suck at praying during desolation. It seems easier to not. But I have to make myself - which is hard because I'm not very self-motivated. I need my butt kicked by people sometimes. (Thank you Kristin, Fr. Dan, Ashley, Derek, Connor, Melea, and Stephen - you have done it oh-so-well.)

Just because I don't hear God in the bathroom right now, doesn't mean He's gone. He's still there - my will is being tested and strengthened and I'm learning (gulp) humility and becoming (hopefully) more faithful. You should too.

"Lemon out!"

(For your enjoyment and laughter because I love 30 Rock, click on it)...