Learning to Seek God

I feel caught in a strange space right now. I feel as though I have been wandering from God in a slow drift, and now when I look back, I see what appears to be a great expanse between me and Him. And I wonder how long this drift has been happening to become so great.

It first came to my mind when I went to go to Eucharistic adoration the other day (the priests were on retreat, though, so there was no Eucharist to adore, alas). Suddenly a concept from Christian mysticism dealing with the idea of levels of heaven came into my head, along with the idea to better understand it and how it fits into one's prayer life. And more than that strange thing to come to mind, I realised that my present discomfort may be more than just a drifting in the past few weeks or months, but that perhaps some aspect of my life has been drifting for far longer. I do not question that I am meant to be Catholic, nor do I question its truth. But I feel as though I am missing something here, something which I may have been seeking after when I was a Protestant but have since been distracted from seeking. And I wonder if perhaps now is not the time to resume that pursuit.

I'm just not sure how, or even what it is that I am pursuing, or how my Catholicism fits into this pursuit (or if it fits in at all, aside from it being just another form of Christianity, although I believe it is more than so merely incidental). I am reasonably certain that to find where I am being drawn, to find what it is that I am chasing, I will be led deep into mysticism. But where or what aspects of it or even where to begin I am not sure. The name Teresa of Avila has come up several times in the past year or two, so perhaps I will begin there. And with prayer. I think I will need a guide to find my way and show me the way to Christ in this. It begins with His mother who was once my model for how to pray, many years ago. And I guess we will see from there.

The Beginnings of an Abstract

So I'm looking at the story of Saint Petronilla (I'd include a link, but both wikipedia and new advent have failed me by giving either weird versions of the story or no real story at all) for a paper to give at Kalamazoo this coming year. The version I'm working with comes from Ælfric's Lives of Saints.

The summed up story is that Peter makes her ill for her benefit. Then Titus asks him why he lets her be ill when he heals everyone else and Peter says that it's good for her, but to prove that he can heal her, he tells her to get up and make dinner. So she does and she's totally healthy; she makes dinner, then goes to lie down and Peter makes her ill again. And from this she learned to fear God and later God healed her again and she went on to heal many others.

Now, aside from the fact that Peter comes off as looking like an arrogant jerk, it is interesting that in this time of healing for all, it is illness -- imposed illness, even -- that is edifying for her. The whole passage (there are a lot more miracles and the most detailed sound lifted out of Acts and dropped into other places) is meant to tell the miracles of Saint Peter to honour him and to edify the reader. However, the second story about Petronilla (there are two at the end of this series of tales of Saint Peter) is very different stylistically. So I am hoping to examine the intent of these exact tales. And in any event, it's a neat story.

And I was in Arcadia

I'm back in Toronto.