St Therese and my crazy

No PET scan results yet. I thought I'd start with that - even though the results are actually far from my mind. Do you know what IS on my mind? 

My absolute insanity. Like, how sometimes I think I am certifiably nuts. 

I mean, I've lived this entire (almost) a year dealing with cancer and praying and changing and watching my entire family be changed - but still I freak out about being over scheduled and play dates and sleep overs and the fact that I want to "Marie Kondo" my entire house and pretend we're moving so that I can give away 95% of what I own (or just throw it away).  Also, I am taking "cancer" trips to Nashville,  France and - hopefully soon but I have no plans - California. And I want to shove in a summer trip to Europe as long as the coronavirus isn't ravaging everywhere because it is bad enough to die of cancer, I don't want the flu on top of it. 

If you read that last paragraph really quickly and without breathing or stopping, you will have an idea of what it is currently like to live in my brain. 

So, it has clearly gotten more sunny since the "trudge" has been replaced with sketchy drug-addict mania. 

And somehow this is happening during Lent, when I am meditating on my impending death, and all I can think is "What the...?" 

But, still, I pray. And the Holy Spirit must have been directing my prayer/reading choices because I'm praying through a retreat about St Therese of Lisieux and today I read her words: 

"I must put up with myself as I am..." 

You have no idea how hard this is for me. With a brain that speeds at 1000 words/second and a heart that is constantly triple and quadruple-guessing my every move...how do I stop (picture an animated Wiley-E Coytoe) and just accept myself when every thought rattling through my brain says, "You are not good enough. There is more to do. Work harder. Be more calm, more gentle, more kind...be more spiritual and sweet and humble..."

Yeah - whoever that person is (the sweet, humble, gentle one?) it's not really me.

And St Therese was a spoiled brat for awhile (like, her entire childhood), but she wanted to be a Saint. She wanted to love God with her entire being. He healed her self-centeredness but she still worried that she would never reach the heights she was hoping. I love this about her. She is my neurotic-Saint friend. And her meditations bring peace to my heart:

God could not inspire us with desires that were unrealizable, so despite my littleness I can aspire to holiness. It is impossible for me to grow up, I must put up with myself as I am, with all my imperfections; but I want to find how to get to Heaven by a little way that is quite straight, quite short: a completely new little way...I too would like to find an elevator to lift me to Jesus...

Even though I am certifiably nuts right now, I am encouraged to "put up with myself" this Lent and to remember that God loves me. Fr Philippe says (commenting on St T):

So here is the elevator: Jesus' arms -- the mercy of God who gives himself through Christ - are going to lift up Therese to what seemed totally inaccessible: real holiness. 

Let's hear it for the crazy people just riding in Jesus' arms.
You've got a friend in me (too much Toy Story early on)