Deliver Us from Evil

“Once, I knew only darkness and stillness…my life was without past or future. But a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.” – Helen Keller

For Helen, the word was water. Her mentor, Anne Sullivan, endured months of Helen’s defiance for the impossible chance of teaching the mute girl how to communicate. Perhaps Helen was coddled by her parents due to her disability, or maybe she was just angry, but either way, she made for a challenging student. She did not want to learn – did not want to emerge from her dark cocoon – and as far as she was concerned, Anne Sullivan was a threat. Each word traced upon Helen’s palm by her teacher was returned with hostility, sometimes a slap to her teacher’s face.

Until one day, when upon visiting the water pump, Helen finally understood.

“W-A-T-E-R,” Anne spelled on Helen’s palm, and after a life without sight or sound, the light finally pierced through.

I wonder what would’ve become of Helen had Anne given up on her. Teaching Helen was no picnic, and I doubt many people would possess the amount of patience to endure such abuse. Something within Anne, however, drove forward. When she wasn’t tracing words upon the little girl’s hand, she was holding it. Anne entered Helen’s darkness and remained, reigniting the light each time her student extinguished it, determined never to give up. Anne’s desire to awaken Helen far surpassed Helen’s desire to remain shrouded in darkness, and because of her love, she gave Helen new life.

While not exactly the same, one word changed my life this morning…absolve. Like Helen, I was immersed in darkness, although not of the physical sort. Spiritually, however, I was starving and desperate. I clung to the empty promises of the world, hoping to find fulfillment, only to be disappointed. I was drowned in mortal sin, quite literally playing Russian Roulette with my soul, for had I died, I would’ve surely gone straight to hell. For months, I was content remaining seated while others received the Eucharist, for I knew upon going home, I would indulge my sin once more. And sorry…I will not be sharing things only revealed in Confession.

Suffice to say I did not murder anyone.

Basking in sin is an interesting state of being, for you truly feel the loss of God (provided, of course, you felt His nearness beforehand). When you’ve successfully severed ties with the Holy Ghost, you make way for a variety of wretchedness. During my stay with sin, I had zero patience, long-suffering, humility, charity. Where I would once mortify myself for the reparation of sin, I found myself serving out healthy tongue lashings to anyone I deemed deserving. My judgement of others thrived via my tongue, gossip abounded, and quite honestly, I didn’t give a hoot. Kind of like when you ruin a diet by eating a handful of cookies…

Might as well eat the entire box; everything’s screwed up anyways.

(Which, by the way, is the sin of gluttony, but I digress.)

The darkness became so thick, I even considered skipping Mass this morning. God and I were not, after all, on speaking terms, so I figured my time would be better spent upon self. Which was exactly how I was living the past few months…me, myself, and I. No one or nothing came before moi, not even God. Deep down, I understood such a lifestyle was unhealthy both physically and spiritually, but the darkness was so intense, I felt powerless to fight.

One does not need to spew pea soup and rotate the head 360 degrees to become possessed by the demonic, and truthfully, demonic possession is far more subtle. Anger, jealousy, selfishness, lust, the little voice inside one’s head which declares “so-and-so has something against you,” or “she’s talking badly about you” and creates tension between neighbors…all these emotions and more are symptoms of diabolical suggestion. I always laugh when those ghost-hunter television shows air, especially when said “hunters” go on the prowl for demons. Trust me, people…you don’t have to seek out evil.

Evil will find you.

Which is what happened to me. One seemingly-innocent sin evolved, like a drug addict needing a bigger and better fix. Not before long, I no longer prayed to God or my daily Rosary. Weeks passed without receiving the Bread of Life, causing more deteriorating of my soul. I even considered breaking the Third Commandment and skipping Mass this morning, a mortal sin which (even when I was most wretched) I wouldn’t dare defy. I can only credit Divine grace with the decision to attend, and even more, to confess my sins to God.

Like Peter when he began to sink, God reached beneath the crashing waves and pulled me to safety. With each humiliating and disgusting sin I orated to the priest, I felt the darkness crumbling within me. I was the “prodigal daughter” returning home to Papa, and He received me with open arms. The grace experienced after the sacraments of Reconciliation and Holy Communion defy words, for words operate solely within the natural realm of our senses.

Divine grace is supernatural, and therefore impossible to contain with a few, meager words.

I will say, however, how alive I feel. Again, the word alive does the emotion zero justice. Like Helen Keller no doubt felt upon realizing the cool liquid rushing over her hands meant exactly the word she spoke – W-A-T-E-R – I sense the light which penetrated the darkness…and I want more. Perhaps for such a reason, God allows us to delve into sin, so we can all the more appreciate His light once shone upon us.

I’m rambling, so I will end on one final note. My prayer life has been dry for, well…God only knows (literally). He has refrained from consoling me as He once did, and has opted rather to isolate me in the desert. No doubt, He is testing my love for and loyalty to Him, which (also no doubt) I have failed miserably. I find talking to someone I cannot sense difficult, hence the lack of regular prayer.

Hence, the total submersion in sin.

Which leaves me with no alternative…I must pray regularly, no matter how tasking. During the Wedding at Cana, Jesus could’ve easily filled the basins with wine, no questions asked. Rather, He chose to make the servants fill the basins with water first, before He performed His first miracle. He expected some effort on the servants’ part, after which He returned the gesture. I suppose all relationships are so – give and take – and I haven’t given in a long time.

To attempt to give God time via prayer (to “pour water in the basin,” so to speak), I’ve decided to carry a pocket journal to document the day. Each entry will be divided by “sins committed,” “reasons to be thankful,” “intercession prayers,” and “personal petitions.” As the day unfolds, whenever I become aware of an occurrence which fits one of these categories, I will jot said occurrence down to be lifted during evening prayer. The exercise might sound mundane and tedious to some, but hey…it’s a start for me. I hope doing so will help me be more present during the day, with God and God’s will ever on my mind.

I’ll keep you posted on how things progress.