The blood of the martyrs

+JMJ+

Today I went to Circus Maximus, what is now an open field used for jogging and picnics was once one of the main places that Christians were martyred in the early Church, even more so than at the Colosseum.

Circus Maximus is not to far away from me, and to be quite honest it is rather un spectacular at first glance because the field is only halfway covered in grass, the other half being covered in gravel, and it is surrounded by noisy streets. I was nearby when I decided to pray the rosary so I began walking around the path.

As I was praying I couldn't help but be struck by the contrast between what the field is used for today and what it was used for so many years ago.

Christians hundreds of years ago died for the faith on that field and even though much time has passed I still felt united to them. How? Through prayer. As I looked up to the sky I thought 'This is the same sky the martyrs saw as they cried out to the Lord in their last moments on earth; crying out for his will to be done and for the strength to accomplish it.' In this very place we were both having conversations with the Lord, and we were both there for the same reason, to give our lives to him.

Granted I am not dying for the faith here, I am studying for the Church that they died and loving every second of it. We both were/are following the Lord in the context of which he has called us. This experience of the grandness and universality of the faith, spanning beyond the confines of time, resonated deeply in my heart. God is so good.

When the White Flag Flies

+JMJ+

I am currently sitting in my room with my oversized hoodie and a glass of wine. This expert display of comfort is my way of unwinding from my second week of finals, which have proven to be rather difficult. 

No one likes finals. They are always stressful, and even if you are prepared there always seems to be the very good chance the professor will ask you the ONE question you were unsure about. I have the tendency of being overwhelmed over finals because the amount of information to be learned is never ending, and due to the number of classes I am taking and all of the material being in Italian, studying is a slow and often disheartening process. 

What I have learned from this finals experience, aside from the academic material I have taken to heart, is that I have limits. 

Yes that's right, I am not unstoppable and have often found myself in way over my head realizing I have reached the ends of my limits. What do I do in these times? 

Accept defeat. 

Yep, right again, I give up. I accept that my limit has been reached and just stop. I lay down on my futon and listen to a song called White Flag Flies by Army of Me (like a dramatic teenager) and accept that I have been defeated and I can no longer go on. 

Before I give the impression that I am actually packing up my bags and heading back to the States or appear to be seeking a pity party let me explain the beauty of accepting defeat. 

Accepting defeat is a beautiful and necessary experience of humility. When I realize that my capabilities are finite, no matter how much I will my brain to be hold more information or my energy to be in larger supply, I am reminded that my efforts alone are never enough. I, by my own strength cannot accomplish what I am called to do without the one who has called me to do it. 

I have known that my strength comes from the Lord for a long time and that realization has more so come in specific instances or periods in life where something unexpected has come up. To be quite honest though, in terms of everyday life, I have known my accomplishments are a result of Gods grace but I have never truly felt that. I have always felt capable and at times unstoppable, but this ongoing finals experience challenges that notion everyday. 

Over the past two weeks I have taken a few exams, some being unexpectedly in Italian other being oral finals which is completely foreign to me, my apartment has flooded, electricity shut off, loss of internet, mixed up test dates, little sleep, and one of my best friends lost a dear family member who I have also been blessed to know, spend time with, and love. 

All of these factors have helped me realize that I, on my own, am very limited. And again, this is not to been seen as a bad thing, it is a tough but beautiful blessing. 

When I give up, I feel liberated in my weakness, I am reminded that the Lord is the one accomplishing everything for me and if I need to stop and take a break it is okay because he will continue to love me despite my weakness. 

So maybe 'giving up' isn't the right phrase, but more so letting go. I have learned to let go of control in a very concrete way because on my own I would no be able to accomplish what the Lord has set out for me. 

His lessons are not always easy, but they are always good. I am thankful that finals were more than just an academic experience, but rather an opportunity to grow in my relationship with the Lord.