Thursday, March 14, 2013

A Thursday Reflection

So yesterday, my husband and I took the kids to a talk given by Immaculee Ilibagiza, a survivor of the Rwandan holocaust. You may catch a bit of her story in the following video:


Her talk was heart-wrenching, as you can imagine. But she was funny as well, which was such a welcome gift considering the heaviness of the topic. And by the end of it, I had felt that I had just gotten off of a roller coaster of emotion. Crying in parts, laughing in others. In short, I felt bipolar, and exhausted from all of the BIG feelings.

And I choked. I choked back tears, and only barely avoided the the ugly cry...in public no less. But then when it came to the book signing part, I choked again, but in a different way. While on line to see her, I played out what I would say, how I wished her signature to be personalized and addressed to our family, how impressed I was with her strength and clarity. Basically, ALL THE THINGS. I can be very articulate *in my head.* Then before I knew it, I was up. And my husband, my safety net for such situations, was busy off to the side, poised to take a picture, and I was left to remember all the things on my own. The kids were no help. I kind of forgot they existed for a few seconds. All I thought was, "What can I possibly say to someone who has experienced some of the most horrid stuff ever?" This is a woman whose family and friends were wiped out. The horror of that realization hit me hard as I stood there. I felt inarticulate and completely inadequate. I set the books on the table, smiled awkwardly, mumbled something about how I had been following her story for a while now, and thanked her for her talk. I don't even know if she was able to make out a word I said. All I wanted, was to leave and not inconvenience her any further. But she wasn't inconvenienced. As a matter of fact, she was super gracious. And of course she would be. This is also a woman who forgave her family's killers. How more gracious can any person be?

As I picked up my books and turned to go, I saw how she was greeted by the next person in line...with a handshake and a hug. There was a genuine ease to it. Why didn't I think to do that? Gosh, I sometimes feel so totally awkward in my own skin, and boy do I think too much (although you'd likely doubt I thought much at all just a few seconds earlier). And then I realized that I had forgotten to ask her to make out the dedication to my family, and I felt like I had let everyone down. Silly, I know, but this is how my mind works. I was kicking myself over it, too, for a little longer than I care to admit. This of course, led to a lot of teasing from my husband and the kids, which I had a bit of difficulty taking in stride. I felt justified in wallowing a while longer in my guilt. It's like a self-induced period of purgation I have to go through. And of course, the whole thing is silly. There I was worrying about choking just a few minutes after listening to a talk about one woman's harrowing ordeal in surviving the Rwandan Holocaust. What a completely ridiculous juxtaposition! And maybe that realization is what caused me to choke in the first place. What have I ever experienced that can compare to her experiences? The answer: Nothing at all. Yeah, I've got problems. First world problems. In other words, no problems at all.

The talk itself was rather varied. Of course, Immaculee spoke mainly about her ordeal, the loss of her family, and the anger she initially harbored over the violence unleashed on Tutsis by the majority Hutu tribe immediately following the death of the Hutu Rwandan president in a plane crash in 1994. But she also spoke of her faith in God, her dependence on prayer while in hiding, her ultimate acceptance of what happened, and even a bit about the process of getting published.

She spoke of Our Lady of Kibeho, a Marian apparition in the 1980's in Rwanda which she and many others feel prophesied the coming genocide. I hadn't even heard of Our Lady of Kibeho, whose apparitions the Vatican approved in 2001. After the talk, I read through a few of the messages the visionaries received and was taken aback at how precise and accurate these were, particularly in light of what happened afterwards. In Kibeho, Mary appeared as Our Lady of Sorrows, and encouraged the praying of the Chaplet/Rosary of the Seven Sorrows, a devotion that officially took root in the 13th century, even though there is evidence that the devotion played a part in general Catholic piety long before that time. While I had heard of this chaplet (thanks to my handy dandy book on chaplets), I have never prayed it before. I hope to do so this week. So many chaplets, so little time! I've been meaning to start the Chaplet of St. Michael as well, after reading all of the promises associated with that one (An escort of nine angels, one from each choir of angels, when approaching Holy Communion?!?!? How neat is that?!?!?). Thankfully, I was able to pick up a beautiful Seven Sorrows rosary yesterday, too...one made with Job's tears seed beads from Rwanda. How appropriate that they used Job's tears! Anyway, so now I have no excuse to get started.

And in tangentially related news, we are all so grateful to have a new Pope. I am loving everything I'm reading about Pope Francis already. It was actually nice to be at the talk yesterday just after the news came out of Rome. There was something neat about being in a room full of Catholics, all equally excited about having a new shepherd. It was just the right crowd to be among on a day like that. Most of my friends are Cultural Catholics, non-practicing Catholics, or non-Catholics. And some among my acquaintances, and yes, even some family, are fairly anti-Catholic. It's not like I'm used to sharing this sort of religion-related excitement publicly, at least outside of this blog, and an occasional Twitter update, or Facebook status. Often, I refrain from sharing because I feel that I would just be inviting a whole lot of negativity from others. And negativity is something I like to avoid, particularly when it's aimed at something about which I care so deeply. Usually it's just comments like, "When will the Church catch up with the times?" that make my head hurt. I sometimes feel that that's just too large a question to address. I know what I'd like to say, but I'd need an hour to say it. I'd start with something about how God exists outside of time, and how just because we change, that doesn't mean that God's Word changes. And then if challenged with, "But the Church isn't God's word," or,  "Jesus never said this or that," I'd say something like, "But He gave Peter the authority to 'bind and loose'...", and then of course, we'd fall into an argument over papal infallibility, and we'd never be done. Seriously, I feel that it would require too much time and effort to really capture my thoughts on this. Heaven knows just how inarticulate I can be when it comes to getting my points across. And considering that issues as basic as that already dig at my threshold, I am likely doing the right thing by keeping some of these things to myself. Otherwise, I'd monopolize everyone's time, and end up not making a whole lot of sense anyway. But doing that here wouldn't be practical, nor would it be fun...or therapeutic. And I need my therapy.

   

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