I miss God.
I realized that yesterday as I looked out at the shrine. People were gathering there for Mass for the start of the Year of Faith, and I was at home doing nothing.
In the past few years I have finally learned that pushing myself through pain is stupid, and that I have to be ridiculously gentle with myself if I want to be strong enough to take care of others.
But I missed Mass, and I used to go even when I was feeling so very much worse than I am now.
God is everywhere. I know this.
But it is difficult to believe that God is present in noise to the same extent that God is in silence. And how on earth am I supposed to find God in the clamor of others when I am still so immature?
For years I have watched women’s spiritual lives jump off a cliff as they lose themselves into the busyness of their families. From the outside it is impossible to tell what depth remains, but it looks so spiritually lonely.
And here I am.