As I put my fingers to the keys for this month’s column, I find myself awash in fresh shards.
Sigh.
While I’ve not enjoyed the pain, maybe this is a good thing, and providentially timely.
I half wonder if my previous essays have painted me as a once-suffering caterpillar who’s now forever the Pollyanna butterfly — perfectly playing the “Alignment-with-His-Will Glad Game” while strolling the deck of the Good Ship Lollipop. (Yes, I am mixing movies, metaphors, and heroines here; you haven’t lost your mind).
Let me just lay that rumor to rest tout de suite.
I do NOT have this “sunny side up” thing perfected, and the last vibe I want to exude is one of pontification.
While it IS true that I’m now much faster at moving from a mopey version of “It’s the Hard-Knock Life” to belting out “Tomorrow,” I think I’ll forever be a spiritual work in progress.
Actually, isn’t that the goal I think?: To never stagnate, to be ever refining ourselves, ideally breaking through to a new spiritual level with every trip through the Master’s fire?
Thus far, the only thing I’ve taken to a bona fide art form is my impersonation of “Jesus Falls the Third Time” — except my “three” has a very large exponential power behind it.
Small wonder that I’m a huge fan of the Divine Mercy Chaplet.
This latest involuntary exercise in self-improvement opened up some very old and very deep wounds for me
. . . maybe even the motherlode of all wounds in my life.
Specifics are unnecessary here, but suffice it to say that something I had thought would work out in a certain way now clearly appears will not.
I’d like to say that I immediately saw it as a teaching moment from the Hand of God, but that would be disingenuous. For me, getting to that place typically requires time, tears, and very excellent chocolate.
It also requires tools — spiritual tools.
When I am feeling this crushed, I start by talking to Abba, Son, and Holy Spirit of Love (as I now like to call Them). I’ve always done this, but my conversation style has changed dramatically over the years.
Now, I am like a child who is simply trying to understand this latest “owie”.
In my Dark Age, however, there was a great deal of anger in my tone during these heart-to-hearts.
I’m not at all proud of that, and I’ve hit the confessional over it more than once.
But it’s absolute truth, and I know I am not the only person guilty of it.
I’ve seen it in others firsthand, now able to recognize that the person so angry at God over dashed expectations used to be me.
In the midst of my emotional gush, I also try to remind myself of the fine points of expectation.
While it is absolutely true that Jesus told us over and over to ask the Father in His name . . . to seek, to knock, to have rock-solid faith in His goodness and love for us, He did NOT instruct us to judge.
Lucifer is a fine example of where this level of pride will take us.
Surrender to the Father’s will is always a necessary element for perfect prayer; Jesus did it himself when He asked to be spared the cup of the cross.
I can’t exactly remember when this V8 moment hit me (very likely in Adoration because it fosters such a sense of humility), but one day it struck me that feeling angry or disappointed in God’s “no” answer to my prayer inferred a certain expectation of Him on my part.
You can really only feel let down by someone if you have a true right to expect a certain behavior or outcome from him/her.
I knew that a great deal of my pain came from not having my prayer answered in my way and my time, and while I could pray with the hope that the Father would see it my way, I really had no right to expect Him to do so.
He knows every caveat to every situation; He knows things I do not know.
That realization may seem too simple to be of much use, but for me, it is not; I invite you to keep it in mind.
We are not remotely His equal and never will be; He owes us nothing.
Even when our pain impedes our ability to feel warm and fuzzy toward Him, at minimum we are well-advised to remember His majesty and to love without condition.
It took me a very long time to realize that getting angry or hurt over His “no” was loving rather conditionally; just look to number one of the “Big Ten” to remind yourself of what He actually demands. Gulp.
It’s not easy to do in this life, and especially not in adversity.
I truly believe He understands this; He fashioned us from the beginning and knows what’s in our hearts before we even express it.
It’s Satan who suggests otherwise, who invites us to doubt His love, to quit, to turn away.
God knows where we are on our spiritual highway, be it the slow lane, the passing lane, or still on the shoulder with a flat.
He wants us to take up the Grace He extends to us to recognize our error, seek forgiveness for it, and broaden our minds to His strategy for this drive.
If we can find it in our hearts to cooperate with His plan, we’ll find ourselves with the perfect pit crew — just ready and waiting to fit us with a new set of tires for the next lap.
Maria Burns is a lifelong Catholic and writer who lives in Madison.