Peace

The Lord works in mysterious ways. He often uses our weaknesses and the ordinary events of our daily lives to bring us closer to Him. Yes, I believe that when we trust Him, or even desire to trust Him, He works all things out for our good. It may not always look or feel good in the moment, but He’s always working things out so that we can come closer to Him. For example:

In the beginning of the year, I challenged myself to read George Weigel’s 800+ page biography of Saint Pope John Paul II, Witness to Hope. It was a journey that took four solid months, but it eventually brought me a good deal closer to the saint who was pope for the first seventeen years of my life. A few months after I finished reading the book, my sister-in-law began an Endow study to discuss John Paul II’s Letter to Women, and I knew I needed to delve into this letter that I had fully intended to read after I finished the book but kept forgetting about. 

I didn’t really know most of the women, but they welcomed me with open hearts (thanks, ladies!). It was an unexpectedly vulnerable experience for me. I haven’t been part of a group of women with whom I could really dig into the faith since college, and I had almost forgotten how to do it.

Thankfully, the study itself was designed to remind us of our inherent dignity as women, and especially as unique women. We are not all called to the same path in this life. We are not all equipped with the same gifts and talents. BUT, we are all called to live in the love of God. 

The study helped me to really and truly remember the love that God has for me as I am. The love He has for all of us as we are. It reminded me that just because I fall into cycles of thinking He expects more from me than I feel capable of giving, He still loves me. And what He desires more than anything is my reliance on Him. Not reliance to do the hard things in my life for me, or to take the hard things away, but to give me the grace, the strength, and the courage to do them myself. 

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been sitting with the question “what now” for awhile. Trying to figure it out myself has brought up so many anxieties and deep-rooted fears. I finally asked my Endow group one night to pray for my healing from these fears.

The next day was the feast of St. Therese of Lisieux, my dear patron saint, and I found myself so eager for mass that I got to the chapel an hour early. I told God about my frustration with my anxiety, how I felt stuck and unable to move forward, how I felt like a failure and a disappointment. He reminded me of His unconditional love, and He said clearly in my heart of my fears, “Give them to me.”

Since then, I’ve been giving Him my fears and anxieties repeatedly. Over and over, asking for healing, for greater trust, for freedom. And He is taking them, unraveling them as if He were undoing a giant knot that the devil had left in my heart. It’s taking time, but little by little, I see grace working in different areas of my day-to-day life.

In areas where I tended to react with anger that would fester, I recover more quickly. In areas where I find myself doing tedious tasks, my heart is filled with love so that even the dullest duties of my every day can be offered to God. For the last couple days I’ve felt oddly “neutral.” Not numb, not despairing, not happy, but not-not happy. Neutral. It was only today that I realized that the underlying feeling here is actually peace.

I’m still a ways off from being completely rid of these fears and anxieties, but I will continue to surrender them to God, and I trust more every day that He will take them and “restore, establish, and strengthen” me. (1 Peter 5:10)

In the meantime, I am thankful. Thankful for the Endow study and the women I studied with. Thankful for St. John Paul II and his Letter to Women. Thankful that God uses our weaknesses as well as the ordinary choices we make (like picking up a book) to help us progress on the path to holiness, to Him. Thankful for you and the gift you are to the world just by being you.

Taco Tuesday

I’ve been silent on here a lot longer than I ever meant to be. Almost a whole year. I don’t have any definitive explanation for why. There are lots of excuses I could make, but a big part of it is that I made it too complicated. Like I tend to make most things in life more complicated than they need to be.

Today I was off work and I had this dream of going to a coffee shop and letting someone else make me coffee so I could sit there and have a really prolific writing session with my fiction project.

Instead, I sat there and flipped through several different writing projects. I deleted one, and tapped a few words here and there on another, and tried to edit one more. Then, for a solid ten minutes, I found myself just sipping my coffee and staring out the window at the truly ordinary scene of the world passing in front of me. 

I watched nothing happen on the backside of a Taco Bell. I noticed a cute green chair I would like to have in the tattoo parlor next door. I stared absently at a man sweeping the sidewalk in front of the coin and jewelry store. I wondered if the disc golf store across the street also sells marijuana (not because I want to buy any--I surely do not--but because it looks like they might). I marveled at the way the sun streaming through the tree branches painted shadows across the “coffee” sign outside.

In those moments of observation with coffee cup in hand, I remembered my tendency to over-complicate things. In life and in my writing. I try to force things, to control them, to make them perfect. 

For a couple years now I’ve felt called to pursue something particular in my life. I have actively pursued it, and in the process I have learned just how little control I have over the results. But in the process, I have experienced a deep spiritual awakening that continues to grow. I’m at a point where I am ready to shift my focus onto other pursuits, but what?

That was the prevailing thought I had at that window seat with my coffee today looking at the backside of a Taco Bell in the Tuesday morning light: what now?

I have no idea, but I’m going to continue sitting with the question. In the meantime, I’m still here. And if you’re sitting with a similar question, you are not alone: I raise my coffee cup in communion with you.

“We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)