M
mommamaree
Guest
Is that just how it is for some Catholics?
Despite loving my faith (I am a convert from Protestantism), and being happy to abide by the commandments and tenets of the faith in order to avoid sins of grave matter and trying to grow in virtue, I still feel so broken inside.
Pope Francis keeps talking about Christian joy, and the need to live out the Gospel joyfully, but every time I am confronted with another one of his gentle reminders, I feel more empty inside.
I have no joy spurring me on to live out the Gospel, only a desperate desire to please God.
I do not know of the love of God in any sense other than the most intellectual understanding.
I am constantly accusing myself, sometimes even in confession, of sins greater and graver than whatever it is I have actually done.
I want to run and hide from God, hoping to live out a good enough life, faithful to all the teachings of the Church, but escape His notice so maybe, just maybe, He won’t be horrified and disgusted by my existence. I desperately desire to be in His presence, but I feel abject terror at the thought of God looking at me. I long for heaven but I am all but certain that I will end up in hell, totally deserving my fate because I could not or would not meet His expectations for me.
My husband, who converted to the faith with me, thinks that this might be my particular challenge, in the same way some people struggle with attachment to a particular sin. I think it makes some sense.
I am so weary of my brokenness. I feel so utterly damaged, like someone took my soul and smashed it to pieces, and now I will live as broken shards for the rest of my life, with only a shred of hope for peace and joy after this life, if only I can do my very very best to avoid hell and make it to Purgatory.
Won’t God ever heal me, just enough so that terror and fear are not my constant companions?
Despite loving my faith (I am a convert from Protestantism), and being happy to abide by the commandments and tenets of the faith in order to avoid sins of grave matter and trying to grow in virtue, I still feel so broken inside.
Pope Francis keeps talking about Christian joy, and the need to live out the Gospel joyfully, but every time I am confronted with another one of his gentle reminders, I feel more empty inside.
I have no joy spurring me on to live out the Gospel, only a desperate desire to please God.
I do not know of the love of God in any sense other than the most intellectual understanding.
I am constantly accusing myself, sometimes even in confession, of sins greater and graver than whatever it is I have actually done.
I want to run and hide from God, hoping to live out a good enough life, faithful to all the teachings of the Church, but escape His notice so maybe, just maybe, He won’t be horrified and disgusted by my existence. I desperately desire to be in His presence, but I feel abject terror at the thought of God looking at me. I long for heaven but I am all but certain that I will end up in hell, totally deserving my fate because I could not or would not meet His expectations for me.
My husband, who converted to the faith with me, thinks that this might be my particular challenge, in the same way some people struggle with attachment to a particular sin. I think it makes some sense.
I am so weary of my brokenness. I feel so utterly damaged, like someone took my soul and smashed it to pieces, and now I will live as broken shards for the rest of my life, with only a shred of hope for peace and joy after this life, if only I can do my very very best to avoid hell and make it to Purgatory.
Won’t God ever heal me, just enough so that terror and fear are not my constant companions?