October 2016 Reflection
"Then Jesus said to his disciples, 'Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.'” Matthew 16:24-25
“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:27
Infertility. Miscarriage. These are hard and rocky roads, and rough and heavy crosses. Things that should bring us joy – baby showers, pregnancy announcements, birth announcements, other people’s children – become uneven patches of road and splinters of wood in our hands and shoulders. We may be tempted to judgment, to envy, to despair. We may stumble or fall under the weight and pain of our cross. And why not? Even Our Lord fell three times, out of exhaustion and pain. Why should we, weak and sinful, be different? We will fall; but we are called to get back up, grab hold of the cross again, and continue to press our shoulders against it.
Most of us probably did not know at the beginning of our marriages that we would struggle with infertility or miscarriage. We rarely know the cross we will be given to bear before it is given to us. Even when we start to realize, we don’t know what the end of the road looks like. Will it end with the joy of living children, through birth or adoption, or will we meet our Lord having always had empty arms?
We only see the path immediately in front of us, and sometimes we doubt if we are going the right way. We may sometimes think we could more easily bear a different cross, but we cannot know that, and it is not for us to choose anyway. Our choice is not a different cross, but whether we will bear the one we have been given. Will we choose to be his disciples, or will we choose not to be?
But there is help. First and foremost, there is Our Lord Himself, who says to us, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” He will sustain us, if we can only bring ourselves to reach out to Him through the pain – and, sometimes, anger, for anger is part of grief. And this grief is real. It is real, and it is visceral; for what goes to the heart of being a man or woman so deeply as participating with God in the miracle of new life? What goes to the heart of marriage like parenthood? What goes to the root of our faith like the Incarnation – God becoming man, but first, becoming that spark of new life in the blessed womb of Mary? Mary, who saw her only son crucified? She knows our sorrow, and she is Our Lady of Consolation.
But for all the pain we feel, Our Lord has suffered it and more. In bearing our crosses, we are sharing in a small way in His Passion; and that suffering can be redemptive, for us and for others. Each time we stumble, we can cry out to Him, and He hears us. He does not will our suffering, though He does allow it. On His Way of the Cross, He had small consolations and helps: Veronica wiping His face, Simon of Cyrene helping Him to bear the cross. Let us seek to bring comfort to each other as we struggle along our own hard roads, every day. Let us be Simon or Veronica to each other, and to others whom we may encounter.
Our calling is not to try to ease our own burden. This cross is ours to carry, whether we are blessed with children or not, and whether we know our children on this side of Heaven or not. But we can try to lighten the loads of others. We can try to soothe their wounds. We can pray for and with each other. We can support each other in carrying our crosses. We can pray for those who lay down their crosses in despair, that they will pick them back up and begin again to follow in His footsteps. And we can hope. Yes, we can hope; for again, we do not know the rest of the road.
The marital call is to fruitfulness. For most couples, this means children; but for some, there may be other ways we are called to labor in God’s vineyard. We pray for the grace to discern what God is calling each of us to; to carry the cross He has given each of us; and to reach out to others in generosity and love.
Our Lady of Consolation, pray for us.
Written by Katie Tremblay
“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:27
Infertility. Miscarriage. These are hard and rocky roads, and rough and heavy crosses. Things that should bring us joy – baby showers, pregnancy announcements, birth announcements, other people’s children – become uneven patches of road and splinters of wood in our hands and shoulders. We may be tempted to judgment, to envy, to despair. We may stumble or fall under the weight and pain of our cross. And why not? Even Our Lord fell three times, out of exhaustion and pain. Why should we, weak and sinful, be different? We will fall; but we are called to get back up, grab hold of the cross again, and continue to press our shoulders against it.
Most of us probably did not know at the beginning of our marriages that we would struggle with infertility or miscarriage. We rarely know the cross we will be given to bear before it is given to us. Even when we start to realize, we don’t know what the end of the road looks like. Will it end with the joy of living children, through birth or adoption, or will we meet our Lord having always had empty arms?
We only see the path immediately in front of us, and sometimes we doubt if we are going the right way. We may sometimes think we could more easily bear a different cross, but we cannot know that, and it is not for us to choose anyway. Our choice is not a different cross, but whether we will bear the one we have been given. Will we choose to be his disciples, or will we choose not to be?
But there is help. First and foremost, there is Our Lord Himself, who says to us, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” He will sustain us, if we can only bring ourselves to reach out to Him through the pain – and, sometimes, anger, for anger is part of grief. And this grief is real. It is real, and it is visceral; for what goes to the heart of being a man or woman so deeply as participating with God in the miracle of new life? What goes to the heart of marriage like parenthood? What goes to the root of our faith like the Incarnation – God becoming man, but first, becoming that spark of new life in the blessed womb of Mary? Mary, who saw her only son crucified? She knows our sorrow, and she is Our Lady of Consolation.
But for all the pain we feel, Our Lord has suffered it and more. In bearing our crosses, we are sharing in a small way in His Passion; and that suffering can be redemptive, for us and for others. Each time we stumble, we can cry out to Him, and He hears us. He does not will our suffering, though He does allow it. On His Way of the Cross, He had small consolations and helps: Veronica wiping His face, Simon of Cyrene helping Him to bear the cross. Let us seek to bring comfort to each other as we struggle along our own hard roads, every day. Let us be Simon or Veronica to each other, and to others whom we may encounter.
Our calling is not to try to ease our own burden. This cross is ours to carry, whether we are blessed with children or not, and whether we know our children on this side of Heaven or not. But we can try to lighten the loads of others. We can try to soothe their wounds. We can pray for and with each other. We can support each other in carrying our crosses. We can pray for those who lay down their crosses in despair, that they will pick them back up and begin again to follow in His footsteps. And we can hope. Yes, we can hope; for again, we do not know the rest of the road.
The marital call is to fruitfulness. For most couples, this means children; but for some, there may be other ways we are called to labor in God’s vineyard. We pray for the grace to discern what God is calling each of us to; to carry the cross He has given each of us; and to reach out to others in generosity and love.
Our Lady of Consolation, pray for us.
Written by Katie Tremblay