Very, very last minute, I found myself in a great big van, driving down to Charleston SC with two friends and without any kids for a mamas' weekend. The main focus of Edel, of course, is building community, of having a "safe place" to be unabashedly Catholic. I've been feeling extraordinarily blessed by where we are, of how we've begun to settle into community and friendships and such.For me, Edel would not be so much about meeting All the People (which is not really my forte; I have a hard time saying Words) as about regrouping, recharging, refocusing before the craziness that is next month (or this month, as the case may be). I also felt very much--or as much as I do "feel" along those lines--that this was a God-gift. The way everything fell together in a heartbeat was uncanny. So what, I wondered, did God want from or for me in this seeming random weekend?
He didn't waste any time, fer sher. Very first thing, at the radio broadcast on Friday evening, when Mary Lenaburg shared the story of her visit to Lourdes with her daughter Courtney and receiving the word "Acceptance." Like the Infant of Prague, Lourdes has been kind of a leitmotif. The beauty and importance and significance of her Immaculate Conception is a whole nuther topic; suffice to say for now that it has been super important in my understanding of what Christ requires of us, as well as His mercy, and the way in which grace operates. (That's all.) So the story was a double-whammy: the idea of acceptance, and the importance of it in my vocation, in particular.
My vocation. My. vocation. mine. My vocation, my life, my calling. Here's another thing: One of my greatest struggles, always, has been really believing that in the grand scheme of things, I matter. That anything about what I do, matters at all. I've screwed up so many times, irreparably botched so many opportunities, etcetera etcetera. I came to a point some years ago where I realized (decided) that so much of what happens "to" us, so much of what we do, so many of the opportunities we have, depends on our own choices. What I do or don't do now is going to affect what I can and cannot do down the road. Sounds common sense, right? But so often, it seems, we blame God or resent ourselves for these choices.
Here, then, is where faith comes in. Faith is believing with firm conviction, beyond all doubt, that God takes our choices, even our worst bad stupid ones, and uses them for good. Uses them for good. Kelly Mantoan's talk drilled this home again: Who I am, matters. What I am doing right now, matters. The man I chose to marry? That's me, and my life. Our children, planned and unplanned? Yep, they matter to. Matter on a cosmic level. Matter to God's Providence.
You know Robinson Crusoe? I know a lot of people roll their eyes at that story, but I love it. Love it because it shows so very vividly the fact that our choices go hand-in-hand with God's Providence. Providence doesn't mean God dictates our lives: exactly the opposite. Providence means that God allows us to make each choice without coercion or inhibition, and that no matter what the natural or logical consequences, that He will take every wrong turning, every broken thread, every lost chance, and make it into something Good, Beautiful, and True.
So as I hit the ground running today--everyone up by 6, everyone melting down by 10, me losing my temper by dinner on my first day back--all of that, I offer to Him. Every wistful What if? I shut down straight away, knowing that my path to perfection? That's right now, right here, at this moment--THIS life, THIS family, THIS trial. What I have is now, and it is beautiful. And it matters.
. . . to be continued . . .
*why is this post so linky? i don't know. but also these people are really cool.
1 comment:
Imagine looking down rather than up from the cross. That is to say from Our Lord's perspective. You are His precious pearl, dear beautiful soul.
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