Let the chips fall
God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change The courage to change the things I can And the wisdom to know the differenceCouldn’t change the car guy, couldn’t have a “do-over” and wait and another minute… Could go back, could go back, could pay attention, could change my plans… Thanks Lord.
Discernment: or sometimes it is ok to say “No”
Last week I was asked to do something — it gave me pause. That request is still sitting out there, and it is for something good. To say “Yes” would mean doing something good. But, it is also a bit terrifying to me. And so, I asked for a week to pray about it.
Thoughts came and went. Prayer came and went. First reaction was “I can’t do this.” Next reaction: Maybe I can, but I’m not sure I want to. Third reaction: Let’s pretend I say “Yes” and see how it sits.
It sat. It sat and sat and sat. It sat in my lap and smiled up at me and said “See – you can do this! You can live up to the expectations of others. You can do it now and get it over with and feel so good that you did it.” I think it might have purred a little while it sat there and tried to seduce me. But, still, there was a nagging sense that I wasn’t looking closely enough. Maybe I should inspect those neatly gloved claws.
This morning I awoke with a very strong sense of what I needed to do to help decide how to proceed. I needed to ask someone specific for help, were I to say “Yes.” And so I decided to call her and ask. And see what her answer told me. But, it was too early (I might wake her up) and she might be out of town (did it matter that then I would just get the answering machine?). I fidgeted. I stalled. I realized that a very big part of me was afraid she would say “Sure! I can do that!” and then I would indeed have to say “Yes” myself.
Finally, I called her number. Answering machine. But, I left a message and sure enough she called back about an hour later. Much to my surprise, she said that she really couldn’t do what I was asking. She gave solid reasons. The most telling was “It’s just where I am right now. And I’m not backing down.” Whoa! I wasn’t trying to make her back down. We talked. Her answer was “No.” I felt all of the tension leave my body. I understood. It wasn’t that she said “No.” It was the reasoning and the way she said it. It was hearing someone stand their ground and say “This is not for me do to at this time.”
My answer will be very much the same. I feel sorrow that I can’t say “Yes.” But, after I made my decision, and stood up for it with someone who really wants me to do it, I also got an email with a quote from St. Vincent de Paul: (I’ve substituted Those for the name of a particular group that was being addressed):
[Those] who carry out their ministries in the way mentioned, but without the right intention, aren’t pleasing to God, who asks first for the heart and, after than, for the work.
I have a friend who resigned from heading up a ministry because she came to the conclusion that she was there for all the wrong reasons. That upset some folks. But, I’ve seen her continue in ministry in other ways. She knew what she saw in the mirror. She came to my mind frequently as I wrestled with the decision.
And so — at least for now, I rest easy with “No.”
Active Contemplation? Maybe
Yesterday I went off on a bender. It started with a thorough scrubbing of the kitchen sink which is now, once again, shiny and white. Then, it turned to the bathroom. I found myself a driven woman, sitting on the bathroom floor with Softscrub, a cloth and a scrub brush, shining up the baseboards – bleaching them out and scrubbing the baseboards and the tile floor. Shiny! White! Clean!
Why does this feel so good? I’ve been pondering that. It seems in part a bit like reconciliation. OK – so that’s weird, I know. But, I have looked at that sink and those baseboards and been bothered by them – just not bothered enough to do something about it. Kind of like those little things that separate me from God — not great, honking, MOTRTAL SINS, but little things that get in the way of a more open relationship. So, yesterday, I addressed the issues. I got out the scrub brush and the elbow grease and I looked the problem in the eye and said to myself “The fix won’t be perfect, but it will be attempted.” I did my part. I quit running from the problem.
I’m not sure that is the whole story. I read about how Contemplatives (monks, etc) engage in physical labor – active contemplation. That seems to be a part of the whole “clean it up” issue. We are both physical and spiritual creatures. All action can be seen as a prayer. That action might be genuflecting in church, making the sign of the cross or making lunch for a 3 year old or an 80 year old. That action might be a dance class or sweeping the floor or singing (to sing is to pray twice, you know.) The physical effort that went into making these parts of my house shiny and white was a form of prayer, I think. I lost myself in the Now. I existed in the moment. And, that seems to be a element of prayer for me.
What shall I clean today in prayer?
Beautiful Monday
The front has passed — or moved in — and the weather, while warm, is clear and dry. What joy after all the rain an humidity over the past couple of weeks.
True, we need rain just as we need sun… We need night and rest just as we need day and exercise. Life is like that: find joy in sunlight or rain, hot or cold, clear or cloudy, day or night, stormy or clear. Find joy in happiness and sorrow, growing closer and allowing space in between, standing your ground or surrender, pain and pleasure. Still, somehow, days like today almost seem to be reward for persevering through unsettled times, thick humidity, storms and even the disaster of the Gulf oil spill.
Halleluhjah!
We are the body of Christ
Today the Catholic Church celebrates the Feast of Corpus Christi — the Body and Blood of Christ. We have a Nigerian Vincentian filling in while the padre is away on vacation… as I watched in, listened to him and responded in song to his song, I was struck by just how wonderfully diverse this Body of Christ truly is.
Fr. Igwe had this sometimes reticent little parish responding in song. He was contagious. That’s the word, I think: Contagious. He taught a different Gloria. We sang “Amazing Grace” as a creed. He chanted parts of the Preface and the Eucharistic prayer. He was joyful.
Our usual pastor is colorful in his own ways: He loves sports, he is a gifted preacher who can handle a mass that flips from English to Spanish with ease, and he almost always “gets to me.” He too loves to sing although not the same rhythms as our visiting Nigerian. He brings so much to the celebration, especially when he’s not feeling bad.
Pentecost weekend I was at a mass in a nearby parish and saw another “Face of God” as it were in the celebration there.
And so, I am awed at the expanse and variety I find in the Body of Christ. I find that I must pray for God to touch more deeply the parishioner who complained that we had “moved from Pentecost to Pentecostal… can’t we just be Catholic?” because people clapped along with the closing song on the feast of Pentecost. There is room in this body for those who find God in the quiet, in gregorian chant and rosaries along side those who are bubbling over with the joy of the Spirit and must let the Light shine in more physical and vocal ways.
We are many parts — we are ALL ONE BODY.