Category: Love

Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Answering Prayers We Didn’t Pray

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, ‘You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’

The rich man in today’s Gospel received a beautiful, difficult blessing. He was able to ask Jesus how he could inherit eternal life and then he was told the answer.

It seems, however, that the rich man was hoping for a different response. Perhaps he wanted Jesus to say, “You don’t need to do anything else–you will inherit eternal life.” Or maybe he wanted Jesus to have some small request or some additional rule to follow. Instead, he is invited to follow Jesus after selling his possessions. This does not seem to be what the man had anticipated or he might not have asked Jesus the question. This good news, this call to discipleship which others received with wild abandon, is met with sadness and a disheartened turning away. The rich man asks a question, receives an answer, and then sulks away. How difficult it is to seek and then find that the cost is higher than you are willing to pay!

This is often true for us, too. We want the Lord to provide an answer to a present difficulty. Hoping for guidance and direction, we implore Jesus to show us the way. Yet when an answer, a path, or a gift is offered, we quickly realize it isn’t what we hoped we would receive. His ways and thoughts are far above our ways, yes, but we keep hoping, over and over again, that they will match up. We find ourselves desiring that just once our meticulously crafted and very comfortable plan will be the one the Lord has also been preparing for us. Many times we, like the rich man, ask questions with specific answers in mind or ask for grace but are focused on very particular graces.

Jesus sees this man wholly. He knows him through and through. The deep desires of his heart and the secret dreams and imaginings are known perfectly to the Lord. It is in light of this knowledge that Jesus offers the answer of sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow Me. Jesus doesn’t need more information to offer a better response. He offers the answer which is perfectly crafted for this man’s heart. Jesus looked at him, loved him, and then placed His finger on the very point which needed His attention right then. The Lord invites him to eliminate what separates them and to become His disciple.

Perhaps before every hard thing that enters our life, the same situation unfolds. Jesus looks at us, loves us, and then points to a lack in our hearts. He does this not to hurt us or to unnecessarily grieve us or to cause us to turn away from Him. Instead, it is this abundant love and great knowledge of our innermost being which causes Him to offer us a grace we didn’t ask for and mercies we didn’t expect. They often come wrapped in problems, accompanied by heartache, and bathed in tears. We don’t want them. We generally desire to resist them. And yet they come, through various means and different channels, from the hand of the Lord.

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Honey From the Rock

Honey From the Rock

I looked up from my sink of dishes to see a plump baby bird and his mom perched on the railing of my deck. The squat baby tipped his head back, opened his yellow-orange beak, and received what the mom graciously offered. The mom’s intense blue-black head flickered to the tree and then to the sky, cautious and attentive, before bolting away in search of more food. Meanwhile, the baby bird hunkered down on the railing, no squawk or complaint issuing from his mouth as his mom left him.

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly moved.
(Psalm 62:1 RSVCE)

This little bird, trusting in the faithful return of his mother, made me see again how I should be with God. Every time the mother took flight, the baby waited quietly, resting in the firm and certain knowledge that she would return. The most squawking happened when the mother had landed on the railing and the baby chirruped incessantly, eagerly clamoring for the food which was soon to be given. Otherwise, he was silent. He hardly moved. He never made an attempt to go get food on his own or to make any sort of search for his mother. He just waited in confidence.

Or perhaps he simply followed his bird instincts that said his mom would return with food. Yet how much more should I wait hopefully on the Lord, trusting that as He has promised, so He will deliver. The Lord will not abandon me or forget me. He can be completely trusted and relied upon. Though He might seem absent or far away, He is always laboring to provide the very best possible in each moment.

I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.
(Psalm 81: 10 RSVCE)

No conversation, no questions, no complaints. Just a neck craning back and a beak opened wide to receive whatever the mom was going to give him. And the mom provided each time. Sometimes she took part of the food back out, held for a bit in her mouth, and then deposited it again in his waiting mouth. Whatever she gave was received as good. I didn’t see the baby spit it back out or question if he would like what would be offered. Simple receptivity.

In these actions, repeated several times as the dirty dishes passed through my hands and became clean, I found a challenge offered to me from the Lord. Would I be like that little bird and receive all that He would offer me? Would I not question if it was really good or if I would like it or if there was anything else, but would I instead just receive from the Lord all He gifted? Could I trust the God of all creation, Who has led me up out of my own Egypts many times, as simply as the little bird trusted his mother? Will I take the offered cup and drink fully?

But my people did not listen to my voice; Israel would have none of me. So I gave them over to their stubborn hearts, to follow their own counsels. O that my people would listen to me, that Israel would walk in my ways! I would soon subdue their enemies, and turn my hand against their foes….I would feed you with the finest of the wheat, and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you.
(Psalm 81: 11-14, 16)

Recently, I’ve been pondering the truth that God is always giving us our greatest good in every moment. It isn’t something new I learned, but it isn’t something I have often found myself considering. While I often don’t receive fully what the Lord is offering, it has been renewing my perspective of life events and situations when I try to view it from this perspective of unfathomable goodness.

The priest who spurred this pondering shared a story which I have also been ruminating over. He mentioned praying for rain as a child and how this nearly destroyed his belief in the goodness of God since the rain often didn’t come or was delayed. As a child, his perspective was that if God heard enough people, He would give what they were asking for or be convinced to give them what they wanted. Yet he offered a more Christian perspective of what prayer should be with the Lord. When begging and pleading for rain and it doesn’t come, the faithful follower of Jesus should be able to prayerfully wonder, Lord, what greater good are you doing here in this place of our need?

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The Father’s Beloved Son

The Father’s Beloved Son

This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.

Matthew 17: 5b

As Jesus revealed His divinity at the Transfiguration, the three disciples with Him heard the Father speak these words. In much the same way as He operates in our lives, the Lord didn’t give them perfect understanding of why they were chosen, what this revelation might mean, or how this was intended to sustain them through the suffering to come. Yet this mountaintop experience must have been held closely to the hearts of Peter, James, and John as they followed Jesus down the mountain and heard Him command them to tell no one at that time. This experience of Moses and Elijah alongside a bright cloud, the Father’s voice, and the veil of ordinariness being lifted from the person of Christ must have been quietly mused over by the disciples.

Did they look at Jesus a little differently? Did they wonder if He might again lower the veil and reveal His divinity to more people? Whatever specific questions they pondered, I am certain this experience was often in their thoughts as they followed Jesus.

“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

In the moment, these words were likely easy to believe. They are on a mountain removed and the experience is all-encompassing, a dramatic sensation for all of the senses. This man who performed numerous miracles, spoke with wisdom and authority, and appeared driven and purposeful would be easy to see as one loved by God. Of course, they would listen to Him.

“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

Yet from this moment forward, Jesus walks toward the cross, enduring disdain and betrayal. In the agony in the garden, when Jesus asks for what is God’s will to be different than what is laid before Him, the disciples perhaps struggle to see Jesus as beloved or to recognize in this moment the Father’s pleasure. Jesus being arrested, handed over to the authorities, scourged, crowned with thorns: this is the love of the Father? The heavy cross laid upon His shoulders, the mocking and ridicule, the nails driven through His hands and feet: this is the Father’s pleasure?

As Jesus is hurriedly laid in the tomb after resting in His mother’s arms, it is a bleak and despairing moment for the disciples. Do Peter, James, or John even remember the Transfiguration in this moment? Do they hear the Father’s words, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him“? Do they wonder now how they can listen to the Father or the Son? Do they wonder if they even want to listen if this is what happens to God’s beloved?

“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

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The Teacher’s Own Heart

The Teacher’s Own Heart

I read a few days ago that one of the most prominent failures of teachers is the failure to love and it was a quick jab to the stomach of my pride. Not to mention, it came from St. Augustine and isn’t so easy to dispel with excuses and circumstances.

But the psychological failures that Deogratias must most be on guard against is a failure in love. Deogratias must learn how to step outside of himself. He must learn to teach with joyful self-forgetfulness. The real difficulty lies not in questions of content, nor of technique, but in the teacher’s own heart. For when the teacher takes delight in what he says, that is, when he loves both his subject and his students, then students also will enjoy what he has to say.

“St. Augustine” by Ryan Topping, p. 60

So…there’s that.

And I walked back into my classroom with a conscious realization that while I may do many things well, Augustine was right. I fail to love. I love some but not enough. I love in instances but not in entirety. And I couldn’t help but think that this teaching gig is a true preparation for Heaven (or parenthood…whichever comes first).

This teacher’s heart is the reason for this blog. It needed a space to search and question and ache over what happened in the classroom. And while many things in life have changed (and many things haven’t), I still find a need for this continued call for conversion. I need to be reminded that this heart is incredibly important and not just for myself, but for the young souls entrusted to my care.

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No Place I’d Rather Be

No Place I’d Rather Be

At a retreat a few weeks ago, I found myself singing Set a Fire with the other retreatants and the line “there’s no place I’d rather be than here in Your love” struck me a little deeper than usual.

It was incredibly bold. There is no place that I would rather be?

And I imagined the life I wanted for myself, filled with a husband and kids gathered into a warm home, and I sang that lyric again. Those words, in a brief blitz of grace, became something I fiercely desired to be true. Instead of all of my vain imaginings about the future, a future which may never be, I wanted to want to be in that moment, receiving the Lord’s love.

It doesn’t mean my heart no longer wanted those things, but I was shaken with the renewed realization that God can only be met in the present moment. The Lord isn’t in my rosy dreams of domestic bliss, even if He desires it for me in the future. Similarly, the Lord isn’t in my imagined ideal job, where my gifts are fully utilized.

The Lord, instead, is present in the here and now. It is in this moment that He offers me grace. And it will only ever be in the current moment. He has plans for my future, great and beautiful plans, but He is with me in the now.

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For the Love

For the Love

“The only part I didn’t really like was when she said that before she was a Christian she didn’t know what love was.”

After a recent talk at school, a few students were voicing their thoughts about the talk. The speaker had made a bold claim, one I hadn’t really thought about too deeply before my students offered their critique. Another student agreed and said he thought the speaker was being dramatic.

“Is it possible,” I questioned, “that being a Christian profoundly changes how she loved?”

“No,” said one student.
“Yes,” said another.

The one who said no came closer and continued with this question. The more I teach and the more I know about people, the more I realize that questions help answer better than arguments. Questions help clarify where exactly the person is, how much they know, and how much they have thought about the idea in the first place. So I posed another question, uncertain as I did so where exactly I was headed or what the next question would be.

“Is there anything different between how Hitler loves and Mother Teresa?”

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Break Our Hearts of Stone

Break Our Hearts of Stone

It seems keeping the heart one of flesh, instead of being one of stone, is the continual work of a lifetime. Softening, rather than hardening, requires a strength and intentionality that doesn’t come naturally to me. In the wake of my defensiveness and desire for self-preservation, I repeatedly need to engage in the work of letting my heart be real. The simple act of believing in the goodness of others (and living in that truth) is one that requires me to be soft-hearted over and over again.

As I’ve gone into the prison, I have grown in seeing the goodness in people who have made many mistakes. Many of the men I interact with are easy to find goodness in because they are seeking the Lord, too. Their zeal for the Lord or their desire to love Him or find Him invites me to see how God is moving in their hearts. Others are a little more difficult since they make me feel uncomfortable or continually lie to me. But as a whole, I am able to look at men who have raped, murdered, and committed all sorts of crimes and proclaim their inherent goodness.

For whatever reason, we often look up what crimes the men are in for and how long of a sentence they received. At times, it helps to understand their position: are they in for life or a few years or simply back after breaking parole? We decided to look up one man I’ve talked with several times and see his crime. It was surprising because the kindness and gentleness I’ve experienced from him ran contrary to the crime he was sentenced to serve. Yet, despite the surprise, it didn’t really change how I felt toward him. The goodness and kindness I’ve experienced are real and he is far more than the crimes of his past.

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Quit Striving: You Are Already Valuable

Quit Striving: You Are Already Valuable

For the past few semesters, I give something called ‘The Preference Test‘ as a way to lead into the Argument from Desire when speaking of God’s existence. This test gives a series of would-you-rather questions but proposed in a slightly different way. I understand why the students sometimes find it silly because it pits options like You are loved against You are not loved. It seems easy enough to be clear about what you would truly prefer, but so many times the students struggle to admit that they desire something when intellectually they are convinced it doesn’t exist or isn’t real.

One question asked if they would rather have their value be innate or dependent on their abilities. This one is always interesting, because the hard-working, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps mentality comes out in full force even if it isn’t really what anyone would truly want. I asked what they preferred. Did they prefer to be worth something just because they exist or did they prefer to strive for worthiness?

So many of them argued that culturally our value is based on our net worth or the skills we’ve acquired or how gifted we are. I told them I understood that, but asked how do you want your value to be determined? Still some insisted that they would prefer that measuring rod of value.

Interestingly, some seemed to fear nobody would work hard if they just knew they were valuable. I wonder if it is because they work hard to be good and then they wonder what it would be like if everyone had value regardless of their skills. Perhaps it is because they feel validated by meeting certain expectations and don’t know what it would mean if those measuring rods were broken and thrown away. Who would they be without grades or athletic giftedness or money or determination?

And it just made my heart ache to see them striving so much. So many of our problems seem to stem from not knowing our true worth or identity. If we all fully understood it, perhaps we wouldn’t be compelled to step on other people or gossip or give up or lie or do whatever we do to get ahead. Or whatever we do to numb the feeling that we aren’t worth anything or can never amount to much. People suffer from not knowing their own true value more than being too full of their own giftedness. I’m quite confident that the ones who seem the most full of themselves are so because they recognize within themselves a radical insufficiency.

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Whatever God Chooses Should Be All the Same to Us

Whatever God Chooses Should Be All the Same to Us

I didn’t expect to feel sadness at a wedding.

Anything near tears, I assumed, would come from the overwhelming joy of seeing a good friend get married. And while I was definitely happy, I was startled by the profound loneliness that pervaded my heart, even as I sat in a pew with beloved friends and was surrounded by many people I knew. Grateful that my friend was receiving that for which she had long prayed, I discovered a sorrow that I didn’t want to find at that time or in that place. The human heart frequently seems inconvenient, but I’ve found that leaning into that is more helpful than ignoring it.

Near the beginning of the liturgy, I heard the priest proclaim a single word in the midst of a longer prayer. He said “home” and I was immediately asking the Lord where my home was. Looking over the priest’s head, I saw the crucifix, arms stretched wide and side pierced, and within myself I heard Him say that my home was there. In His side, opened so that mercy could pour out, was my home, my refuge, the only place I belonged on either side of Heaven.

As my blog slowly moves from being thoroughly unread to something that people I know and don’t know read, I find myself hesitant to ever speak of being single. Some of my former students occasionally look at my blog as do co-workers, and it feels odd to share this particularly deep desire, even if it seems obvious or assumed or commonplace. Yet it also feels odd to share so many other parts of my heart and then withhold speaking of the vocation I feel called to, simply because God hasn’t fully answered that prayer.

I’m a melancholic and as such I am accustomed to longing. One of the most enduring longings has been for marriage and a family. It isn’t my only desire, but it is the one that seems the most fervent. This newly married friend is one I often spoke of this longing with, as we questioned when it would be fulfilled and wondered how it would happen. So I understand to a degree why this wedding also filled my heart with a bit of sadness. It was because my compatriot had what she longed for and I was still waiting, still hoping, still wondering when and if it would happen.

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Perhaps the World Ends Here

Perhaps the World Ends Here

I found this poem through a podcast that has a “poem of the day” that they read and analyze a bit. While I often forget, reading and learning more poetry follows a desire I have to immerse my life in more beauty.

The poem is called “Perhaps the World Ends Here” by Joy Harjo.

The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.

The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.

We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.

It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.

At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.

Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.

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