Oil in Thy Lamp

Your life is comfortable.

You want for nothing.

You go about your day... Starting with coffee or some other morning ritual, you wake up and start going about your daily duties. For many, it's going to work or getting the kids ready for school.

Grocery shopping.

Laundry.

Dishes.

The monotonous, hum drum reality of daily life.

I want you to stop for a moment. Consider something for a second. You have heard it before, perhaps many times. Here it is again:

We are in the midst of an immensely vast spiritual battle.

Read it again.

Stop thinking about that list of to-dos over there for a minute.

Read it again.

To us, who lack nothing and obtain all that we desire... it doesn't feel like it.
How often do we consider the atrocities that are happening worlds away from us?

How often do we consider the atrocities that are happening down the road from us?

Before I go further, I would like to point out that in this blog post I am talking, among other things, about the ideology behind abortion. I am not seeking to venture into the "reality" of abortion. That is to say, I realize that the vast majority of women who actually seek abortions are not doing it to exercise their “right to choose”. Their decision to abort often comes from a place of desperation; they see no other alternative to their difficult and usually tragic circumstances. My post is going to seem harsh because I am attacking the rallying cry of pro-choice advocates: "My body, my choice". I do not wish to cause further pain or anguish to any women who have procured an abortion. The reality of abortion is absolutely heart wrenching. Therefore, please read the following at your own discretion.

We talk about abortion so often that many of us have become numb to the word. Let me remind you a little bit about what it means.

A woman finds herself pregnant and in such a deplorable situation that she feels the only option is to kill the child in her womb.

Or, a woman finds herself pregnant and decides that she would not like to sacrifice her lifestyle in order to raise a child for 18 years.

The circumstances are different, but the result is the same. The woman and her zygote/embryo/fetus/pre-born person enter into the facility, but only one comes out alive. Although occasionally, neither come out alive.

Abortion, not SARS CoV-2, is the atrocity of our time. It is silent, undercover, but 638,169 babies were killed in the United States in 2015 alone. Who would these poor innocent babes have grown up to be?

The ideologies driving the abortion industry today are even more insidious than the ideologies that once drove Nazism.

Hitler was a visible, flesh-and-blood entity. It was clear, to those outside of his sphere of influence, that what he was doing was unspeakable. How in the world did he manage to come into power and retain it for over a decade while committing indescribable crimes against humanity?

It's fairly simple: He offered a solution for Germany's problems.

How did he go about it? He eliminated all those deemed unfit for the party's vision of the Aryan race. Obviously how it all played out is more complicated, but that is the root of why his campaign was "successful" for 12 years too long. He was charismatic, outspoken, and hard times were definitely changing under his rule. Progress is good... right?

It's tempting to tell yourself "if I was there and saw all that going on, I would have done something about it!" Would you though? It's easy to say that because of your retrospective view.
The German people did not just wake up one day with anti-Semitic propaganda plastered all over the place. It started subtly, so as to normalize their beliefs into the subconscious of the public.

It advanced further through shutting down the free press.  More on that later.

The Nazi goal was to create a unified Germany. Under the party's conditions, of course. The ideology effectively valued the "good" of the community above the good of individuals - by claiming that some individuals were not persons at all.

Sound familiar?

Look at abortion. One reason why it's more insidious than Nazi ideology is that it puts the "good" or even just the "preferences" of the mother above the fundamental right of the child: the right to live.
It doesn't even have the somewhat more beneficent aim of utilitarianism: the "greatest good for the greatest number".

The ideology of abortion holds the foremost premise that the woman's autonomy of choice has precedence over the most fundamental right of the fetus (and, in fact, of all people) which is the right to continue living.

The vast majority of people today feel (because to them "feeling" is more important than "thinking") that any given person's preferences should be the determining factor in any given situation. Relativism, my friends. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times.

Originally, I stated that abortion is the atrocity of our day. That being the case, relativism is the fons et origo of this scourge upon mankind.

After a little research into the history of moral relativism, I'm appalled to discover that its source is none other than my beloved field of anthropology. Of course, I am not surprised. The golden rule of anthropology is that diversity exists among human cultures and one may not impose one's values upon any given culture. If we are viewing other ways of life as we would a precious, ancient artifact, then of course this makes perfect sense. We do not want to disrupt the integrity of the piece. As an academic discipline - meant to study and understand these cultures - there is a place for relativism. As long as it's taken with a grain of salt.

When it comes to issues of morality (think arranged marriages, female genital mutilation, cannibalism, abortion, assisted suicide, euthanasia, etc), relativism has to be shut down.

There is so much confusion regarding absolute moral truth. Feelings get in the way of objectivity. Feelings are the golden calf of our times. That’s why everybody is offended about everything, and why companies go above and beyond to rectify “offense”. The one and only commandment of our day is this: Thou shalt not hurt anyone’s sensibilities, intentionally or unintentionally. This webpage is a good starting point for those who don't understand why relativism is an inferior philosophical worldview.

The pervasiveness of relativism is a fundamental reason why organized religion is so abhorred and maligned in secular society. Catholicism is one of the few remaining institutions that upholds absolute moral truth, rooted in God. Every single “rule” within the Catholic religion can be traced back to the premise that God exists. Everything from “you should wait to have sex before marriage” to “you should only receive Communion if you are Catholic” can be traced back from premise to premise to the fundamental principle that God exists. If you reject that premise, then you reject all that follows. The implications, however, are eternal. So you better be damn sure you’ve made the right choice. See below:

                                                                                                                     

Figure 1: Pascal’s Wager

Credit: https://www.reasonablefaith.org/question-answer/P20/pascals-wager

Let's go back to the thread now and think about the implications of the phrase "my body, my choice". If it's your body, then shouldn't you be able to kill it as well? It is only a matter of time before euthanasia becomes popularized in the Western world. Look at the alarming rate of suicide in the United States.

 This is how relativism has served us. No one is wrong, as long as they are following their hearts. If they want to kill their babies, okay. If you want to kill yourself, hey go ahead. We never cared for you much anyway. What about if they wanna kill the guy standing next to them on the train? Well, why not?

GOD is the arbiter of life and death.

Killing in all of its forms – homicide, suicide, assisted suicide, abortion, and euthanasia - are severe transgressions against the inherent dignity of the human person.

I’m writing today to implore you not to allow the fluffy political arguments of the day cloud your vision regarding this issue. Those who do not wish to abolish abortion outright have blood on their hands. If you vote in this way, you too have blood on your hands. This is not strictly a political post. I’m not writing to push a political agenda; I’m writing with the hope that the Holy Spirit will change hearts, save lives, and – most fundamentally – save souls.  

Earlier I touched upon the subject of the free press. In Nazi Germany, the "Nazi Propaganda Ministry" took control of all media including "newspapers, magazines, books, public meetings, and rallies, art, music, movies, and radio" (source). They literally paraded in the streets destroying and burning any books that threatened Nazi beliefs. 

 

"Un-German" book burning, May 1933 

Imagine if they could have gotten their hands on the Internet.

It has recently struck me (I know, I'm slow). Facebook - and Twitter, while I'm at it - is the perfect tool for pushing ideology and squashing critical thought. Anyone can censor or ban anyone else on these platforms - not from the site, but from their own pages or feeds. If one disagrees with a certain ideology, one can mute it instead of confronting it. Additionally, one can "follow" any number of outlets that agree and line up with ones' chosen ideology. Personally, I enjoy following a few leftist and international outlets to keep myself current with the zeitgeist.

As it stands, these social media platforms are essentially reinforcing peoples' preferred worldviews while also tricking them into thinking they've had real interactions that make a difference. The truth is,  arguments on the internet often do nothing more than reinforce the beliefs of both parties involved. Adding to that, social media is the source of news for many - dangerous if you consider how much power these companies hold to silence whatever they see fit. Why should we put our trust in them? They are biased humans, too, and journalism nowadays is becoming more blatant about which "side" they're on.

All of this to say... We're idiots if we think we're immune to propaganda. We are more susceptible to it now than at any other time in history, because of the way social media functions. Given the pandemic, it's a perfect storm for ideological censorship. People are holed up in their houses with only the Internet for human interaction. It has never been easier for individuals to wall themselves up into ideological echo chambers that reinforce their own mistaken beliefs while also protecting them from the harshness of real truth-seeking debate and discussion in the face of someone they disagree with.

Whatever semblance of free thought remains in Western culture is deteriorating at record speed. I see it in political arguments on social media. I see it even in my own beloved Church - a place that, as a idealistic, naive baby Catholic, I believed upheld capital-T Truth and was impervious to the swaying trends of culture. This year, sadly, the veil has been lifted from my eyes.

The division and hatred in the world today is the work of Satan.

It is not the work of white people, or black people, Trump-lovers, or Biden-supporters, pro-choicers, or pro-lifers.  

Satan always divides, he always accuses.

He is laughing right now as the world around us literally burns. He knows that he already lost the war, but that won't stop him from reveling in the destruction caused by his spirit in us.

 

Do you know what he hates? He hates it when we retreat, disconnect from the divisions in our feeds, and work on our own hearts. He REALLY hates that.

 

The most powerful weapon to conquer the devil is humility. For, as he does not know at all how to employ it, neither does he know how to defend himself from it.

– St. Vincent de Paul

What we need to do is refine ourselves. It is the only realm over which we have any semblance of control. Stop... STOP pointing your finger at anyone outside of yourself.

We are in the midst of the battle. Right now, at this very moment. Even among the vast pile of laundry and dishes needing to be done.

Take up your rosaries. Fast regularly. For Catholics, Confession, Holy Mass, and Adoration will give you the supernatural grace you need to fight the good fight. Learn from my stupid mistakes - the devil is much cleverer than we are if we don't have Jesus within our hearts. The surest and quickest (and easiest) way is through the Sacraments that Christ himself established when he walked the earth.
Get off of social media, at least for a little bit. Our prayers and penances will be like fire to our souls, cleansing us, purifying us, making us more like our Lord. If we begin to love, in the proper sense of the word, imagine how the world will be transformed. Our Lady promised that her Immaculate Heart will triumph. 

Christus vincit

Christus regnat

Christus imperat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dark Night: Faith Without Sense

   It's almost Christmas! We have officially less than one week to wait before Christmas Eve. Are you ready? I would bet that nearly every single person who is reading this has had the following experience: You know you should be excited for Christmas to finally arrive. You have been preparing, both spiritually and practically. The decorations are up, the tree is lit, and all the presents are wrapped. But you're not feeling it. It just kind of doesn't feel real. But why, you wonder. Have you been not focusing on the real reason for the season? No, no you have been reading scripture and praying extra and doing charitable works beyond what you normally do. If you're Catholic, perhaps you've added an extra weekday Mass or two. Still, though, the flame isn't there and it's frustrating because you have been doing everything in your power to kindle it.
       Here is the question: Do we have the power to ignite the spark? I can recall the first time I heard about the so-called "dark night of the soul". It was in reference to St. Teresa of Calcutta; I remember reading that she went through a very difficult and dark time for years and even to her death. I thought to myself, how can you be a Christian, truly knowing the love of God, and go through a dark period? God is love, and love is truth and beauty and goodness and... light! Surely darkness and Christianity are paradoxical. And aha! Indeed they are! Christianity is filled with innumerable paradoxes, as I described in my "Motherhood" post. The paradox of the dark night of the soul is something I have only recently become vaguely familiar with, and that is because of my own experience with it. Allow me to share with you how I came to find myself in a forest dark.
      There are some situations in life that stick with you, perhaps not because of particular memories or moments, but because of the strong feelings that were invoked when they occurred. For me, predictably, the biggest ones were my conversion, Baptism, marriage, and the birth of my children. As awe-inspiring and life-altering as the first three were, the birth of my first child and the first year or two after had a supernatural glow about them - I'm not sure how else to describe it. I never could have guessed that being completely baby-free my entire life would have turned out to be such a blessing. I was clueless, but so was my baby daughter - so in a way, we grew together. She taught me so much about caring. I grew in leaps and bounds in selflessness, purely out of instinct. Your baby is hungry - you feed her before you eat. Your baby is tired - you help her sleep before you go do your homework. That time was glorious because it was gritty, it was hard, it was exhausting and I felt like a zombie for at least twelve months. However, the "me" who emerged was completely transformed.
   Not only that, but I got to witness - for the first time in my life - the wonder and complete adorableness of growth starting from conception. I used to curse the fact that I was never around babies because it rendered me completely ignorant and I felt like I was constantly drowning. Now, looking back, I see that it was also a blessing and a privilege to discover the love of God through a tiny infant. In her, and in how I imagined she saw me, and in how I responded to her, I discovered hidden lessons about God the Father. It was as if motherhood was the key to a secret door that opened up into a magnificent facet of divine love! That is why, I think, those first years of becoming a mother hold such a magical quality for me.
    The birth of my son was just as magical, if not more so because I had no idea whatsoever about boys. All I could think and say immediately after I birthed him was "This is my son." I had nothing else! I was truly in awe - both excited and a little intimidated. My motherly love grew in new ways; my boy was easier to care for - in a way, he was easier for me to bond with. This is not meant in a favoritism kind of way. I would never say I "prefer" my son over my daughter. No, my love for him does not detract from my love for her; I love them equally. Somehow, though, the bond between mother and son is a simpler and more free-flowing bond - in my mom guilt, I have done lots of googling and discovered this to be a very common phenomenon. Isn't this the case with all human relationships, though? Some require a little extra effort and nurturing. Having only ever been around males of my own age, it completely blew me away to experience the sweetness, affection, and sheer joy of my youngest.

Proof! Sheer delight!

   All of the glitter and delight of having two young, precious innocent souls in my care was not without trial, as I have mentioned. The first year of motherhood was the hardest for me because it was such a gigantic role change. I went from being able to go to the coffee shop at 9pm if I wanted, to having to plan my day in 3 hour increments. When my son was born, it was easier in a way because I knew what I was doing, but hormonally it took a toll on me. About three months after he was born, I began experiencing what is commonly referred to as "health anxiety". I remember my first panic attack. I was sitting on the couch nursing the baby when I felt some pain in my stomach. I thought to myself, "What if it's x" and "What if it's y" and I became lightheaded to the point that I thought I was passing out. Urgent care revealed nothing. In the meantime, thoughts of "What if I get sick and die and leave my two helpless children without a mother" began to increase in quantity. I noticed every sensation in my body. I began projecting the fears onto my children. When they had fevers, my mind would jump straight to sepsis. I thought they were normal motherly concerns, perhaps hormones, maybe exacerbated by medical knowledge, but surely they would straighten out soon.

Scaredy cats

   Then during Christmas the year my son was born, some personal drama occurred that escalated my level of anxiety. Shortly into the new year, I was a complete wreck. My anxieties over my health and the well being of my children began to manifest as physical symptoms. This dramatically worsened in March with the death of my grandfather - the first time I experienced the death of a close relative. I had severe sharp pains in my head (probably from all the tension in my neck from stress) and there was a period of time of about a week where if I ate anything solid I had severe stomach pains. I lost a lot of weight - I was convinced I was dying of some sort of GI cancer. Thunderstorms had me clutching my children and frantically praying rosaries, probably with more fear than they themselves felt. I was sure the lightning was going to kill us. I couldn't drive on roads faster than 50mph - they gave me panic attacks and I would have to pull over.
   All of this lasted for a total of about nine or ten months. It culminated in a single event in August. I decided to brave my fear of driving to take my children to our new Church (we had moved in July). They were hosting their monthly "children's holy hour" so that mommas and their babies and kiddos could worship the Lord without the fear of disturbing others. We had a truly lovely time, and while praying I had placed all of my fears at Jesus's feet. I was finding it so hard to trust Him at that time, even while  trying to pray the chaplet of Divine Mercy daily. I couldn't understand why I was so afraid all the time, or whether something was really wrong with me physically. I gave it to Him that day, as I had on other occasions. He was so quiet... Am I ever going to be free of this endless cycle of worry and angst? How will I ever cope if I have another baby? Lord... You are here, but where are you? Silence. Okay, Lord. It's in your hands. Time to go home.
   We turned right out of the parking lot and a minute down the road I glanced down for a millisecond to place a lid on a container. I didn't even snap it on, I just dropped it on top. In that millisecond, the right tire of my little Prius (which my husband later confessed desperately needed the tires rotated due to being so worn down) caught on the very high lip of the soft shoulder. No big deal - the road I drove on every day, twice a day, for about five years had the same type of shoulder and I had bumped off of it on numerous occasions.
   Well, this time was different. I must have overcorrected, because the rear end of the car shot into the middle of the road and the front end skidded on the grass. As the car flipped over (three times) I remember thinking "This might be it." and then taking comfort in the fact that I had just been with the Lord in adoration before my impending death. Finally, the car came to a halt and I was waiting to lose consciousness... it never happened. I sat still for a moment, taking stock of myself; "Am I going to stay alive?" is basically what I thought. Yep. Then I heard Peter crying. I couldn't hear Felicity. I rammed my head around. She was not in her car seat. I started frantically crying out her name, looking in the floorboard in case she was stuck under my seat. She wasn't there. You cannot imagine the fears that were flooding my mind in that instant.
   Now I was screaming her name. I managed to get the door opened and I ran across the grass trying to find her. I heard someone call out, "She's over here!" I ran over and I will never forget seeing her sitting there in the grass, looking dazed. Nothing was adding up to reality. Nothing made sense. Why was she just sitting there in the grass? How did she get there? Why was she not in the car? I began assessing her, looking for signs of internal bleeding, expecting the worst. I was beginning to panic. A man got my son out of the car and confirmed that he was perfectly okay, not a single scratch, and he wasn't crying anymore. The woman who was with me and Felicity helped me to contact emergency services and my husband. Oh, there was so much anguish when my daughter spoke to my husband.
   "Daddy! Daddy I love you!" she screamed, over and over. I thought "Oh God, are you going to take her from us? Are these her last words to her daddy?". But she remained stable, and alternatively I became more panicked as the situation began to unfold in my mind. In the past, I had let Felicity climb into the car to get out of the parking lot so I could strap Peter into his car seat. I did it quite often because Peter was a heavy baby, and if I could get him in first, my hands would be free to help the more independent child. It had happened more than once, in my brain fog, that after putting Peter in I completely forgot to buckle Felicity. I had kicked myself every single time, saying to myself "What if I had had a wreck?!" and then I would instruct Felicity to "Please tell mommy if you don't get buckled in!!" Well, that day it happened again. That day, I flipped my car going 25 or 30 mph down a country road - possibly the least likely place to have an accident.

   I was nearly in hysterics. My daughter could have DIED, and it would have been completely my fault. As I sat there clutching her, shaking, sobbing, and waiting for EMS to arrive, the woman who was crouching next to us got in my face and said "Look at me. Look at me! Calm down. I was right behind you and I saw the entire thing. When the car rolled the first time, I saw her sitting on the ground. She didn't fly out, she was just sitting there when the car rolled away." I couldn't believe my ears. It didn't make sense. So she flew to that side of the car, was right up against the window as it smashed and was left on the grass? How is that even possible?  How did she not get stuck on something? Like Peter's carseat handle? How did she not lose a limb... or worse? I knew, right that second, that it was her guardian angel. We have prayed the Angel of God prayer with her for almost her entire life before bed.
                        "Angel of God,
                         my guardian dear,
                         to whom God's love
                         commits me here
                         Ever this day
                         be at my side,
                         to light to guard
                         to rule and guide
                         Amen."
   Everything after that is a blur. We took a ride in the ambulance and I constantly peered at her vital signs. Blood pressure stable, pulse stable. She chatted away with the burly paramedic who sat in the back with us - quite uncharacteristic of my shy girl. The doctors were completely underwhelmed by her case. Nothing but a laceration in her mouth and a few bruises and scrapes. My husband arrived and so did Father. The police asked me questions and cited me for improper use of child restraints. I was more than happy to pay the fine. My daughter was alive. I will never make that mistake again, I assured the police officer. In a police officer-y kind of way, he seemed to believe me.

   When the dust began to settle and we had been sufficiently assured that everyone was okay, my little family of four made our way down to the chapel of the Catholic hospital. Gerald and I prostrated ourselves flat on our faces before the altar of God and praised Him for His goodness and mercy. I realized something extremely important. For all of my fears and anxieties I had been having about failing as a mother, that day the fear had been realized. I had failed as a mother completely and utterly. What was the result? God took care of my children. I realized that no matter how imperfect I am, their true mother is their heavenly mother. The Mother of God. She is the one who is in control. Her intercession before the throne of God far exceeds anything I can do or fail to do here on earth. This was the moment of my healing.
   Everything I had been enduring for almost a year suddenly made sense. I was being taught essential lessons of Love - that God is so merciful that he will go to great lengths to teach His children to trust Him in ever deepening ways. And yet, as severe as this lesson may seem to you, to me it was as severe as it needed to be to snap me out of my anxiety, yet simultaneously as gentle and tender as a caress. We lost a car, nothing more. To me, that car was worth absolutely nothing compared to what we might have lost that day. Praise God!
   There happened to be a priest present in the chapel, praying in one of the pews. He came to us, seeing our tears, and we told him the story of what happened. He allowed Felicity to approach the large floral arrangement that was placed before the altar in order to pick a rose. I knew that rose was from the Blessed Virgin. Not only her, but a whole host of Saints and particularly our dear St. Therese, the Little Flower.

The rose from Our Lady

   My husband later told me that when he was driving out to come be with us, he was praying incessantly to the Blessed Mother for our help. He said that he felt this sense of peace, and he knew that we were okay. 

   God wants us to be with Him. He will do whatever it takes to help us learn how to love Him and trust Him. That is what life is about. Growing in our trust of the Lord, so that we can grow in love more freely. He is a good father who takes care of His children. He does not will suffering - that is the result of the fall of man in the Garden and it is something we will all endure in waves until we reach heaven.

 Suffering has to come because if you look at the cross, he has got his head bending down — he wants to kiss you — and he has both hands open wide — he wants to embrace you. He has his heart opened wide to receive you. Then when you feel miserable inside, look at the cross and you will know what is happening. Suffering, pain, sorrow, humiliation, feelings of loneliness, are nothing but the kiss of Jesus, a sign that you have come so close that he can kiss you. Do you understand, brothers, sisters, or whoever you may be? Suffering, pain, humiliation — this is the kiss of Jesus.
-St. Teresa of Calcutta

 He wills only life and eternal joy. He is able to make great good come even from suffering and pain. I suffered for months with the fear of my death which I was so confident was just around the corner. Spiritually, I believe I was ready for death because I was going to Confession and drawing close to the Sacraments - as close as I had ever been since my conversion. It was literally the source of any remnant of strength I had left. The ultimate fruit of those months of agony (more difficult than nursing school!) was a firm knowledge of God's care. I had it before, but after going through something so traumatic with my children, that faith was transcended to a completely different plane. 

   I wish I could say that all of the previous joy of motherhood has returned. In some ways, it has. I credit the healing of my anxiety mostly to the miraculous circumstances of the car accident; the sustaining of my wellbeing is the result of the care of the astute urgent care doctor who saw me for my minor concussion and prescribed me Zoloft (an antidepressant that is effective for anxiety). I took it for six months and weaned off, finally back to my old self!
   Well, not completely my old self.

   God is putting me through another trial, the one I mentioned at the very beginning. The joys and consolations in my earliest days of marriage and motherhood have been tempered. That is not to say I don't experience moments of joy - there are plenty of those. Felicity now snuggles again, which she hasn't done since she was about 12 months old, and she says with sincerity - out of the blue as I'm doing dishes - "Mommy? I love you mommy!". My overall state, however, feels overcast. I have been reading Scripture every day, participating in the Sacraments, trying to reach out to friends when I am able - overall, trying to be on top of my game to the extent I can be. However, the Lord is withholding the consolations. I know Christmas is coming, but the spark won't ignite. I know that death will come and heaven will be my reward if I persevere, but I can't feel it. I love the Lord God, I love my husband, I love my children, I love my family, and I love my friends... but I can't feel it right now. It is odd. It's as if I am walking through an arid desert.

“If a man wishes to be sure of the road he’s traveling on, then he must close his eyes and travel in the dark.” ― St. John of the Cross

 

   I draw my peace from the knowledge that there is a reason for this season of my spirituality, too.  Surely he is preparing me for greater trials in my life. Perhaps he is using it to convert a soul. Whatever the case may be, the answer will be fully revealed in heaven where I, along with all the other Saints, will delight in it for eternity. That is my consolation... and yet, I still do not feel it. That is okay. It's hard when you're a new convert to feel like God loves you if you don't, well, feel His love! I am learning that feelings aren't everything. As a matter of fact, in the long run, feelings are nothing. They are fickle, they are subject to all of the elements of our earthly environment, and they can turn around in an instant. It is better to root ourselves in capital-T Truth.
   If you are here looking for advice regarding the phenomenon of spiritual dryness, I'm afraid you will need to look to actual Saints rather than poor old me. I'm just winging it... St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Calcutta both experienced desolation and aridity to a severe extent - without a doubt, if you read their works you will find many insights there. I have only one piece of advice, and I would go so far as to say it is what makes Saints out of poor sinners like me and you:  Persevere. Never give up spiritual battle, especially when you fail to see any fruits or purpose in your many sacrifices. God sees you and He wants to shower you with His love. But... Just as loving parents wrap the gifts that they can't wait for their children to open on Christmas morning, God saves our rewards for our eternal bliss. May Jesus now fill your hearts with His peace - a peace that surpasses all understanding. Merry Christmas!