Today is the feast of Saint Therese of Liseux - a little French Carmelite sister who died at 24 unknown by the world, now not only a saint, but a towering doctor of the Church. It is said that she resdiscovered the secret heart of Christianity: that it does not matter how great the things we do are in this life, but how great our love is. This "Little Way" is something that has hit home repeatedly for me the past few weeks.
Sometimes it feels like I'm in a whirlpool with all the "adult responsibilities" I find myself faced with - work, bills, relationships defined by complexity, bills, work, chores, bills. My fluxuating schedule, jammed calendar, friends scattered nation-wide that I try to keep tabs on, etc... Juggling all of these and trying to make consistent time for prayer (DUH) and family is more challenging than I realized. Sometimes it's all I can do just to keep my head above water in the midst of the chaos. That doesn't include the gradual realization I've found: I'm now my own primary caregiver - if I don't do my laundry, wash my dishes, set the vitamins on the table, make calls to the doctor or dentist, exercise, buy healthy groceries and make nutrituious meals for myself, guess what? Those things just don't happen. On my more frustrating days, I mutter with quivering chin and tear-brimmed eyes, "There's no one taking care of ME".
As full of incredibly loving relationships as my life truly is, I still struggle (more than I'd care to admit) with loneliness. I started rereading The Path of Loneliness by Elisabeth Elliot, and a passage that never struck me before leaped off the pages this time. It spoke about a young woman who moved to a town where she didn't know many people and lived in an apartment by herself. It dawned on her that unless she made it a place she shared with Christ, the apartment would continue to be a place of loneliness for her. I took this advice to heart - the walk-in closet of my studio loft apartment has since been converted into a prayer room/chapel, and you know what? It really makes a difference! I have a place, a little closet like Our Lord spoke of where I can close the door and pray to my Father. I have tried, with growing success, to spend the first and last 10 minutes of each day in my closet, enveloping myself in silence so I can be in His presence without the usual strain. It is amazing to me the difference this "little" thing makes in my mood, peace, productivity.
Jacques Phillipe says the principal struggle in the spiritual life is simply to ask ourselves what we can do to give the Lord the most freedom to move in us. While reflecting on how this applies in my own life, I jotted down a list of things I CAN do in spite of the torrent of daily life that seems often beyond my control (the choleric in me even categorized the list with colors). I've resolved that each week, I'm going to choose ONE to give extra effort towards, not with the mindset that I have it in me to pull myself up by the bootstraps and self-improve (I happen to think most of that approach is a crock), but exercising my will to remove the crap so there's room for grace to transform me. In other words, the effort I'm putting forth is merely getting the flip out of the way so God can do it. Switching my mindset in this way has been kind of revolutionary.
It hasn't been an overnight dramatic change. After many failed Lenten schemes that could be summed up "The Epic and Elaborate Blueprint for Getting Rid of All my Faults in Weaknesses in 40 Days", I know better than to take on unrealistic plans for fixing everything that's wrong with me. Even so, there has been a shift in my heart these past few weeks. When the 20 feet from my bed to the chapel suddenly becomes an insurmountable distance, when the decade-plus addiction to caffeine makes the perfectly perspiring glass of Pepsi my brother is sipping look like heaven itself, when a teen comes to see me and I'm distracted, or when I get a text message from an ex whose presence in my life (if I'm brutally honest) is like quicksand, I'm increasingly repeating my new mantra: "The little things count, and they matter every time". Each time I say this in my head and am able to drag myself into the chapel, order water instead, take a deep breath and give that teen my undivided presence, or refuse to self-medicate loneliness with unhealthy relationships, I create more space for God to move freely in me.
The little things count, and they matter every time. You got it right, Therese. Pray for us.
Sometimes it feels like I'm in a whirlpool with all the "adult responsibilities" I find myself faced with - work, bills, relationships defined by complexity, bills, work, chores, bills. My fluxuating schedule, jammed calendar, friends scattered nation-wide that I try to keep tabs on, etc... Juggling all of these and trying to make consistent time for prayer (DUH) and family is more challenging than I realized. Sometimes it's all I can do just to keep my head above water in the midst of the chaos. That doesn't include the gradual realization I've found: I'm now my own primary caregiver - if I don't do my laundry, wash my dishes, set the vitamins on the table, make calls to the doctor or dentist, exercise, buy healthy groceries and make nutrituious meals for myself, guess what? Those things just don't happen. On my more frustrating days, I mutter with quivering chin and tear-brimmed eyes, "There's no one taking care of ME".
As full of incredibly loving relationships as my life truly is, I still struggle (more than I'd care to admit) with loneliness. I started rereading The Path of Loneliness by Elisabeth Elliot, and a passage that never struck me before leaped off the pages this time. It spoke about a young woman who moved to a town where she didn't know many people and lived in an apartment by herself. It dawned on her that unless she made it a place she shared with Christ, the apartment would continue to be a place of loneliness for her. I took this advice to heart - the walk-in closet of my studio loft apartment has since been converted into a prayer room/chapel, and you know what? It really makes a difference! I have a place, a little closet like Our Lord spoke of where I can close the door and pray to my Father. I have tried, with growing success, to spend the first and last 10 minutes of each day in my closet, enveloping myself in silence so I can be in His presence without the usual strain. It is amazing to me the difference this "little" thing makes in my mood, peace, productivity.
Jacques Phillipe says the principal struggle in the spiritual life is simply to ask ourselves what we can do to give the Lord the most freedom to move in us. While reflecting on how this applies in my own life, I jotted down a list of things I CAN do in spite of the torrent of daily life that seems often beyond my control (the choleric in me even categorized the list with colors). I've resolved that each week, I'm going to choose ONE to give extra effort towards, not with the mindset that I have it in me to pull myself up by the bootstraps and self-improve (I happen to think most of that approach is a crock), but exercising my will to remove the crap so there's room for grace to transform me. In other words, the effort I'm putting forth is merely getting the flip out of the way so God can do it. Switching my mindset in this way has been kind of revolutionary.
It hasn't been an overnight dramatic change. After many failed Lenten schemes that could be summed up "The Epic and Elaborate Blueprint for Getting Rid of All my Faults in Weaknesses in 40 Days", I know better than to take on unrealistic plans for fixing everything that's wrong with me. Even so, there has been a shift in my heart these past few weeks. When the 20 feet from my bed to the chapel suddenly becomes an insurmountable distance, when the decade-plus addiction to caffeine makes the perfectly perspiring glass of Pepsi my brother is sipping look like heaven itself, when a teen comes to see me and I'm distracted, or when I get a text message from an ex whose presence in my life (if I'm brutally honest) is like quicksand, I'm increasingly repeating my new mantra: "The little things count, and they matter every time". Each time I say this in my head and am able to drag myself into the chapel, order water instead, take a deep breath and give that teen my undivided presence, or refuse to self-medicate loneliness with unhealthy relationships, I create more space for God to move freely in me.
The little things count, and they matter every time. You got it right, Therese. Pray for us.
This is beautiful, Guine! Thanks for sharing yourself and the insights gained while on your journey!
ReplyDeleteI love you sister!