Let me.

This last weekend I went on Senior Retreat. Although I had been looking forward to going to Six Flags with the senior class, I was ultimately unable to go. Thus, when my friend, Jesuit Novice A.J. mentioned the retreat and that I should go I went over to Healy Hall and registered. I think at first I was spurred to go because I didn't want to sit on campus all weekend. But then when I realized that my two best friends were going, I was excited to spend the weekend with them away from campus. I had no clue the weekend in store for me, it was one of the most amazing experiences at Georgetown and in the end I think it was one of my best decisions over the last four years.

Part of the weekend was about God's grace, examining where He had shown up in our life at Georgetown. In both the little things and the big. In the hurt and in the moments where life feels perfect. I came to Georgetown because I was running away. I thought if I got into a prestigious university, I would assure everyone around me and by proxy myself that I was okay. But the truth is that I wasn't, I was hurting. I was broken into a thousand tiny pieces being held together by the thinnest of threads. I was mad at people, I was angry at God, I held hate and contempt in my heart. When I walked through Georgetown's front gates for the first time I was a broken being. I came here broken and I don't want to leave that way.

I graduate in five days and yet still I am broken. I feel unworthy of His love. I feel unworthy of His grace, and I feel unworthy of His forgiveness. And yet I cling to these things and desire these things and pray that someday I will feel worthy. For years there has been an elephant in the room when I sit and talk to God. I could not understand how God could forgive my rapist, the man who sexually abused me for 18 months. I clinged to the self-righteousness that said that it was my pain. I constantly found myself asking God "How dare you take that pain away from me? How dare you offer this monster forgiveness? How dare you ask that I share heaven with this man?"

But you weren't asking those things of me, were you God? You were saying, this burden is heavy let me help you bear it. You were asking, isn't it getting heavy under there carrying your own cross. Here let me take a side. Dear child, let me ache for you, let me hurt for you, give me your hand and let me take your place upon this cross. Let my hands be nailed to it and let the thorns cut my brow. Let my blood flow and let my body be broken. You were simply saying "let me. Let me. Let me." And so I let him.

I found myself this weekend yelling out to Him and crying out to Him. Unloading my burden, one issue at a time. Until there was nothing left that I was carrying, until I felt empty and drained. Because the truth was, I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't carry this burden alone. It had broke me, I still am broken, but God's grace and love have begun to heal me. And while I am scared of the uncertain future ahead of me I know that on Monday morning I will be okay, because God will be there.