Division

"Jesus said to His disciples: 'I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing! . . . Do you think that I have come to establish Peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. From now on, a household of five will be divided, three against two and two against three; a father will be divided against his son and a son against his father, a mother against her daughter and a daughter against her mother, a mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.'  " -- [Luke 12: 49-53].

Jesus came to be our Prince of Peace, yes.

But He also said, " Everyone will hate you because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved." -[Mark 13:13].

The priest who preached at Mass today said that we have stark choices. He spoke of telling his brother about his own call to become a priest. His brother vehemently disagreed with that plan. The man who ultimately did become a priest had to put the Lord first.

These choices reach far beyond which friends we choose, or which boss we need to stand up to. Putting God first can sometimes mean serious divisions within families.

In my family growing up, there were so many divisions, we were fractured. Not one of us had an ally in another. My mother had had a sad and lonely childhood. Over her years of married life, she was never able to overcome her anxiety and depression from those lonely early years.

My father, hoping for a deep emotional attachment in marriage, found only a woman who was alternately sad and controlling. And so he turned to me, the only daughter. At times, he took his anger out on me. Other times, his emotional attachment to me was manipulative and boundary-breaking.

My sibling, sensing that I was the fulcrum in our parents' marriage, became jealous. He decided that he hated me, and he did his best to minimize me, or even eliminate me as a threat. He called me ugly every day, he stole my things, he booby-trapped my room, he lead the neighborhood children in sorties to verbally torment me.

My mother, unable to cope with our "war", perhaps barely able to get through the day herself, would tell me that I was "too sensitive". My brother's abuse became physical.

After I became about 14, we stopped going to church. I was told not to believe in that "God stuff" since "religion is the opiate of the masses."

My choices were to turn to sin and anger and violence and promiscuity. To become them. Or, to bide my time and believe what I did-- in the possibility of Peace and Love and Mercy.

To bide my time, I had to take my Faith underground. I had to tiptoe around, for fear that what I did, seemingly innocently, would set them off.

Jesus paid for his steely bond with God, with bruises and blood; with mockery and blasphemy. So did I. . .

I was a child. But I knew the right Way. I knew what I wanted was Love -- and this is not what I was being given.

Today, I realize that I fought hard for His Truth. I had to endure physical wounds, emotional abuse, scathing verbal abuse, including being called a failure. I had to refuse to believe their rhetoric. I had to choose God over my own family. Sometimes, I hide in my room. Sometimes, I escaped the house and sat under a huge pine tree in a neighbor's yard.

But nothing could make me give up on the Truth.

I have been seriously depressed that such was my life. Now, I find that, in being a follower of Jesus, this is to be expected. The Way is narrow, my friends.

As a child, I had to shut down, barely eating, taking a vow of silence, not going to sleep until all family members were asleep, numbing my emotions. Because becoming unavailable to my family  was preferable to their trying to convert me to their ways.

I have serious damage from this fight. Physical damage, emotional damage, psychic damage. If I had it to do all over again, would I do things differently and in essence, surrender, and become them?

No, never. I would do what I did, all over again.

 I put the Lord first.

(C) Spiritual Devotional 2016. All Rights Reserved.