Riding rollercoasters for Jesus

This weekend, I went with my parish youth group to Six Flags for World Youth Day (North Texas).  No, Pope Francis wasn't there, but Bishop Deshotel was—along with hundreds and hundreds of Catholic Youths from all around the Dallas/Fort Worth area.

Most of the day was spent enjoying Six Flags—which, I learned, is named for the six different flags that have flown over Texas: Spain, France, Mexico, Texas, the USA, and the Confederate States.  (I suppose here they acknowledge the Confederate secession as more legitimate than we do up north.)  There was much screaming and teasing and games-playing.  For lunch, we went back to the parking lot and ate burritos and donuts.  Classy and delicious!

One of the rides is the Sixflags Sky something-or-other, where you go up on a tower suuuuuper high and slowly come down—you can see for miles and miles.  Texas is flat, guys.  Not a bump or a mountain or a molehill in sight from up there.  The only things that really add contour are the skylines of Dallas and Fort Worth.  And the hugely tall rollercoasters of Six Flags—including the super tall Superman tower-drop-ride thing, which terrified me immensely.

And then there was Mass.  There were *so* many jovenes gathered in that place to praise the Lord.  Although this youth group is a bit rambunctious and all over the place, when it is time for Mass, everyone was stoked.  The Mass was bilingual (which was good, because several people in our group don't speak English) and the choir sang some great songs, including a few by Matt Maher.  In the background was a huge wooden roller coaster, and way off in the distance, the Superman ride.  But the real star of the show was, of course, Jesus, present in every heart and physically present in the Eucharist.

If you'll allow me to step into something a little more personal, I would like to ask for your prayers, my friends.  I am still trying to find my place as a member of the Dallas Catholic community.  Obviously I am being impatient about this.  But having been accustomed to being surrounded by a faith community, now that I'm back in the finding process, I feel strange.  I have days when I feel like I am on the right track and everything is going to be wonderful, and there are other days when I still feel very lonely in my faith journey.

That was a mixed day.  I was surrounded by the youth group, and I was the butt of plenty of jokes (i.e. lots of attention)—and I was able to dish some jokes back too!  But right before Mass, I was hit with a wave of loneliness.  I missed my family, I missed el Grupo en Los Tres Brazos, I missed my friends at Christlife—I missed them all so much it hurt.  Suddenly I felt ripped away from my worship buddies.  Having to develop Jesus-filled friendships from scratch seemed like a burden, not a blessing.  I wanted to cry, but that would have been silly, surrounded by so many people who obviously want to become friends with me.  But the loneliness was there, in the pit of my stomach, right next to my fear of the towery-drop-Superman ride.  I was able to swallow my urge to cry and throw myself into worship for Mass.  It was beautiful, and the whole time I was praying, I was asking God to help me feel like I belong here.  I don't need much, I thought, just a friend or two who can challenge me to deepen my faith.

The Gospel reading was Luke 18:1 - 8.  The Lord said, "Will not God then secure the rights of His chosen ones who call out to him day and night?"  Bishop talked about how when we pray, God answers with what is best for us rather than exactly what we ask for.  For example, if we ask for something we really want, sometimes God answers with the patience to wait until it is time for us to receive that thing.

During the petitions, one of the prayers was "for anyone who feels isolated or alone—especially those who are youths in North Texas."  Right at that moment, although they didn't know it, everyone in that stadium was praying for me.  God was like, "hang on, there, girl.  Just hang on."

When it was time to receive the Precious Body of Christ, the redhead in the group surprised me.  She is one of the most rambunctious girls in the group, and she said to me that she would only receive the Eucharist on her tongue—because that is the most respectful way to receive it.  She doesn't bow down to anyone—except, of course, Jesus!

After Mass and after another coaster, about half the group wanted to do that scary Superman ride.  It's a tower ride and you get shot up to the top of the tower and then it drops you a bunch of times.  It is basically the epitome of scary for me.  I've done a small one like it before, but it took a LOT of coaxing to convince me to get on this bigger, faster tower.  It mocked my fears with its primary color scheme and happy Superman decor.

But Redhead held my hand and assured me that I would survive.  One of the guys teased me that God would take care of me—but I was stubborn in my fear.  My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears, and my arms and legs were shaking.  The ride started with a huge engine noise, and then we shot straight up into the sky—and below us, the cities sprawled like an intense set of constellations in all directions.  It was actually pretty terrifying, especially for the first bit as we sped upward and then hovered, ready to drop at any moment—and I screamed my head off, half praying desperately, half using the Lord's name in vain: "OH DIOS OH GOD OH GOD AY POR DIOS"—and Redhead was kindly laughing at me.  We zoomed up and down and up and down, and finally the ride slowed and gently lowered us to the ground.  "See Kiki?  You were fine." She was right.  It was even kindof fun....  With a deep breath, I collected my shaking limbs and used them to walk out of the park.

When Redhead asked me to lead prayer over dinner that evening, I thanked God for the day at Sixflags and for Mass with the Bishop, and for friends that we can share our faiths—and our fears—with.

Now I am asking God for patience as I get to know people here.  Even though I sometimes feel alone, there are so many other people on this journey to love God in our lives.  He knows my heart; He knows what—and who—I need in my life.  And He knows where I need to be, and when.  I just have to learn to trust Him.