Age Quod Agis

There is a Latin saying, widely used among Jesuits, that is close to my heart: "Age quod agis."  Loosely translated, it means "Do what you're doing."  The phrase is an encouragement to commit yourself fully to whatever task is at hand; but more than that, it can be taken as an instruction to thrive within your present circumstances instead of longing for or worrying about the future.  To do well whatever assignment God has currently given you.  Or, to use a modern equivalent, bloom where you're planted.

This is challenging, especially when your present situation is difficult or even painful, or if you are looking forward to a new chapter that hasn't arrived yet.  I am thankful to be writing from the second perspective, but I have many friends and family members who are currently experiencing the first. 

I often find myself wishing God would work faster.  I struggle to embrace the in-between times, especially when I know something good is on its way.  Like our son, who will be born in two months.  Suddenly I am tempted to be discontent, to take my eyes off all of the blessings in front of me right now.  Worse still, it becomes all too easy to neglect the people and tasks currently entrusted to my care.  It's hard to love fully without being present in the moment.  When my eyes and my heart are fixed on something that has not arrived yet, they aren't available for the ones who need me today:  family, friends and even strangers I might meet who could use a kind word.

The phrase also speaks to me about obedience and discerning God's will on a daily basis.  How can I know if I am fulfilling God's expectations of me on any given day? Father Walter Ciszek, a priest arrested and imprisoned in Russia during World War II, dealt with this same uncertainty during his long period of captivity in prisons and labor camps.  He felt cut off from opportunities to serve God in the ways he had expected to, mainly to serve as a priest in a community and minister to the Russian people, whose faith was constantly under attack from the Soviet government and who he felt a special calling to serve.

Ciszek ultimately realized that God had already placed him exactly where he was intended to be at that time, even if it was far from his own desires and plans.  To truly serve God, he had to overcome his fixation on what might have been and refocus on what actually was.  When he did, he found that even in such a seemingly hopeless situation he was able to help those around him, often by holding clandestine Masses for fellow prisoners within the labor camp.  I recommend his memoirHe Leadeth Me to any interested in a wonderful example of perseverance in faith. 

The young saint Aloysius Gonzaga, who lived in the 1500s, by all accounts also embraced God's will in his life as it manifested in the everyday.  Once, while playing soccer, he was asked by a companion, "Brother, if you knew you were to die just now, what would you do?"  Instead of the pious answer we might expect, he replied, "I would continue playing because at this moment, it is the will of God for me."  For me, this short vignette also illustrates the fact that God's will does not only consist of opportunities to serve but also includes the call to enjoy.  We glorify God when we savor and take pleasure in his gifts, much like such appreciation would delight a doting human father. 

I hope that you and I can learn to practice this brand of everyday holiness, grow in faith and find fulfillment simply by being ourselves right where God has put us.

Our Down-to-Earth God

Some of my favorite moments in my relationship with God are those when his guidance is simple and practical.  Down-to-earth, for lack of a better term.  Or maybe there isn't a better term, because he does actually interact with me down here on earth each day.  Jesus was down-to-earth in the most literal sense.  Ours is a God who meets us where we are, even in the small and sometimes boring details. 

Yesterday, he helped liberate me from the tyranny of housework.  (Forgive my melodrama, I just stress about it more than seems to be normal or healthy.  I actually have burst into spontaneous tears over it, much to my husband's surprise and dismay.)   I came home from work with a headache and flopped onto our bed for a nap, planning on being productive when I got up.  And then that moment came when the alarm went off and I actually had to summon up the stamina to regroup and face the music, er, laundry and dishes and trash to go out. (My husband was out of town, he would otherwise have helped me.) As I lay there trying to motivate myself, I heard a different and refreshing perspective: "Stephanie, why don't you stop worrying so much, and instead go get some exercise.  Do something you enjoy.  It's ok to let it sit for a little while."  I needed to hear that, that God doesn't want or expect me to be so rigid, even with respect to my duties and my efforts to be a good wife.  He knew I needed permission to be human, and sometimes humans get worn down and the house just has to stay imperfect for a day longer.  (Especially third-trimester pregnant humans.)

Instead of the tiring, monotonous evening I expected, I was given the gift of an enjoyable work-out and a replenishing night of rest.  In addition, he reminded me to make the most of my last days of pre-child freedom, something I often forget to relish but know I will soon miss. 

I am so grateful that God was watching me on an ordinary weeknight, and that like a loving parent he stooped down to take my hand and pick me up.