It came without ribbons...

 It came without ribbons!

It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes, or bags!

That's dramatic I know. But it feels that way. Christmas is coming without any of the fanfare due to covid. There is much I will miss about it. 

However.

I did wish for a gentle holiday. Christmas will be quiet without fanfare. I will celebrate Christmas Mass tomorrow morning remotely. And thank God for the bounty of a warm safe place where we won't get our beloveds sick.

Christmas will come on schedule, though we may celebrate somewhat late with the traditional trappings of the holiday. But come Lord Jesus... do we ever need you now.

A very Covid Christmas

 I have covid-19. I tested positive on Friday and because they weren't thrilled with my oxygen levels, they told me to go to the ER. 

Turns out my O2 levels were ok and I was released several hours later.

I'm in quarantine now, feeling gross and uncomfortable. Christmas celebrations are pretty much on hold and I'm sad. 

But I'm alive.

I'm alive because before I got covid-19, I was vaccinated.

While I was waiting for a chest x-ray in the ER, I was in a room with a young lady. Hearing her conversations with the doctors and nurses, I knew she was unvaccinated and suspicious of medical treatment; she had covid 19 pneumonia and was taking ivermectin before she came to the hospital. Her husband was admitted the previous day for the same. They have a baby at home:

DOC "I need to admit you for an infusion and treatment."

LADY "What if I refuse?"

DOC "Well of course I can't force medical treatment on you,  and you can always leave against medical advice. But it's your best chance to survive."

LADY "What does that even mean?"

DOC ..... LONG PAUSE "If you don't do what I'm suggesting, you may die. I don't know how to make it any plainer."

That was about an hour before I was discharged. She was still pondering her options when I walked out.

Read this. GET F**KING VACCINATED & BOOSTED. The medical professionals are trying to keep you alive. HELP THEM.

Meh-rry Christmas

Just realizing that it may not be a very Merry Christmas in my circles. Every year, I set myself up for a Holiday letdown; I want the house decorated as early as possible after Thanksgiving, want the perfect gifts for everyone, spread holiday cheer, care for the needy, and go to Midnight Mass like a good little priest. And here we are 10 days out; I am depressed, I am hurting and I am not feeling it at all. Talking with my wife last night, I mulled over the idea than Christmas hasn’t actually been “merry” for me for a very long time. It is always hung up in “who’s going to whose house” the mad rush to get decorations up that will be taken down in a few weeks’ time, and of course, trying to pretend that I am not thinking of drinking.

I remember loving Christmas SO much as a child and young adult. And what I loved about it was booze, from the time I was 14 or so until sobriety. Getting drunk in the days leading up to the big day and decorating the basement. Getting drunk at various parties and bars. Getting EXTREMELY drunk on Christmas day starting with spiking my coffee with Bailys. Then sneaking beer on the pretense of doing laundry until the relatives arrived. FINALLY able to drink freely for a while, because everyone else was.

Then gulping wine at dinner. Forgetting the rest of the night.

I wanted oblivion. Christmas was just window dressing for this alcoholic.

Don’t get me wrong. Things are different now of course. I have a much expanded family, new traditions, new ideas, my ministry and 20 years have passed since my last drink. But the phantom remains and it is hurting me this year.

I think the best thing to do, the best present I can give myself is to grant permission to not necessarily have a “Merry Christmas” for once.

I read a blurb on twitter where a therapist says to his patients:

“May you have a gentle holiday.”

I can do that, I think. I can have a gentle holiday this year.

Hello, I'm Thomas & I'm a joiner.

Part of my addiction is my identity as a “joiner”. I need to be careful of this.

I realized it last week when I noticed Rob had a Freemason belt buckle. I immediately said “I’m interested!” because in truth, freemasonry HAS always fascinated me. Suddenly here I am corresponding with him to start attending meetings and become initiated! And this SO isn’t the time to be diving into a new activity, to “join” something else. I am coming back to the priesthood, getting involved in the interfaith community, I MUST get my recovery program in order, and Jill will need me after her surgery during her convalescence. 

There’s nothing wrong with reading about them, talking to Rob, and learning new things. But I pull myself to shreds with so many things I wish to be a part of that I forget what I already AM a part of. I don’t compartmentalize well (we know this).

Smarten up.

A priest and a target

 

“You’re a priest now. That also means you’re a target as well.”

Father Chuck said those words to me last year when I was discerning the priesthood. Looking at my past few private journal entries & how I’ve been feeling, I think he understands all too well where my soul is right now. I see now that demons and devils are real. Not little red guys with horns and hooves, not Pazuzu from The Exorcist. If I believe in benevolent spirits like angels (I do), then it is naïve to discount the possibility of malevolent spirits.  Even though I have questions and doubts, I believe the best course of action is to “act as if”. Talk to my angels. Defend against the demons. I feel somewhat like Father Callahan from Salem’s Lot, wanting a BIG confrontation against “big E” Evil. But it is the little battles against the imps of our fallen nature that constitute true spiritual warfare. I am fallen, I am broken, & I am in recovery from addiction. These devils are born of my doubt; from my pride, from my belief that when all things are done, I am not good enough to be a priest because of my brokenness, because of my imperfections, because of my addictions, because I am not able to dedicate 100% of my life to priestly service.

I presided over my first same-sex wedding yesterday; if my ordination in an independent Catholic community didn’t already excommunicate me in the Roman church, this most certainly did.

The demons whisper “How does it feel to be cut off from God, charlatan shaman?”

And for a moment, I almost despair.

Then I answer, “I wouldn’t know about that. Why don’t you tell me?”

And the silence is deafening.

So yes, I am a priest. And I am a target. And that simply is part of the job.

Act as if ye have faith...

They say in AA “fake it till you make it”. I have done my share of faking it over the decades, and have put together a lot of time not drinking and drugging.

So what about that second part? Why don’t I feel like I have ever really “made it”?

That’s actually pretty easy to answer come to think of it. If I am being honest.

I have seldom done any real step work, either on my own or with a sponsor. If ever I experience discomfort from people drinking around me, I will go to maybe two thirds of an online meeting. Then nothing else. It never seems to “take”. Inwardly I say “AA was good in the beginning, but I’m beyond those slogans and stuff now. I need a REAL program with REAL recovery.”  So then I’m off to read a couple of chapters in Recovery Dharma or Refuge Recovery. Attend two thirds of one of THEIR meetings. And smugly feel that I am above ALL of it. Still 20 years off of booze and going on 4 years off pills

It leads me to wonder then – why so glum all the time, sir? Why does the urge to use, and more importantly, how to handle that urge, still haunt you on the daily?

Whatever brand of recovery I use, I haven’t worked the basics. I mean the brass tacks basics of AA or any abstinence-based program is “don’t drink and go to meetings”. I have that 1^st part down but let’s face it; if I think I am “above”, or “beyond” meetings, I haven’t really given the program, any of them, a chance. Even when I was going to meetings, I felt superior to them and everyone there. Only thought about leaving once I got there. I have never really given the programs a chance and I didn’t give new friendships with anyone in program a chance.

It is a “WE” program, they say. That I have made all about me. This isn’t to beat myself up, I’m being very careful to be kind with myself, both in writing and self-talk. This is simply the truth. 

No pronouncements here, because in the continued spirit of being honest, my pronouncements don't carry much weight. Maybe I will just muse that it is time to actually try and work for a more happy, joyous, free life.  Maybe it is time to try SOBRIETY as opposed to simple abstinence. 

Maybe it's time.