Embracing Plan B, with Grace

The original plan for today was solid.  The baby and I made ourselves presentable and headed out for a women's Bible study group at our new church, hoping for encouragement and fellowship and also on the prowl for potential friends.  So my heart sank when we got there and discovered it had been cancelled for the day, and we left with our heads hung in defeat.  Actually, he was screaming, so that part worked out for the best.  

Determined not to head directly home after wrangling both of us into our rental car, I decided to drive around a little until he fell asleep in his car seat and then shop for care package items.  Except he didn't fall asleep.  And a snowstorm descended on us.  In one last attempt I drove us to IKEA hoping to wait it out and maybe pick up some stylish, reasonably-priced shelving with my tiny, irritable viking (his "helmet" beanie would have been funny in a Swedish store, no?)  I plucked him out of his car seat, fed him in the driver's seat (in the parking lot) and was wrestling him back into it when I realized how ill-fated the whole thing was and decided to abort the mission before we made ourselves really unpopular.

Being a military wife and new mom in a new place (for the duration of this deployment,) I have been eager-to say the least- to create a full, active, socially-involved schedule for myself, in hopes of fending off my personal boogeymen: loneliness and boredom.  Type-A Go Getter personality that I am, I started researching activities for myself in the area before we even got here.  The truth is, I don't usually practice faith the way God really intends for me to.  Example:  seeking out a Bible study in a new community is wonderful, but to rely entirely on myself without any room for trust in God might be missing the point.  

It seems like He has staged an intervention into my controloholism in the form of our sweet, deliciously plump, abundant poop-producing baby boy.  Many times throughout each day, he thwarts me. In those moments, which initially caused me much frustration, I am learning to change my perspective.  I am learning to look for God's guidance in taking the next little step forward in this new frontier (parenthood and, literally, Utah.)  That nap didn't work out? Savor the giggles and playtime.  Baby poop on the bedspread? See the humor in it.  With some serious grace, I'm learning to go with the flow.  As I write this, the baby is lying in a makeshift lounger consisting of a blanket, towel and hoodie inside the plastic bathtub my parents bought him, because our belongings haven't arrived yet from the move.  But he's perfectly happy, and we're making it work.

God is faithful, His love really is unfailing, and every time my own plans fail I receive the direction and subtle encouragement I need to press on, and to find joy in unexpected places.

I hate to use the term "blessings in disguise," but sometimes problems, looked at from a different angle, are beautiful.  Today's snowstorm turned into a peaceful afternoon spent reading, writing and enjoying a cup of coffee and also allowed me to spend some rare extra time with my dad, who happened to be working from home for the day.  

And from a broader perspective, this deployment is providing a priceless opportunity to reconnect with my family across the country and build memories we otherwise wouldn't have.  I would rather my husband be here with us, but I believe that as he serves in the vocation God has called him to, our son and I are being richly blessed as well.

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.   

Living Simply and Outsmarting Ego

When I'm in outdoor-wear stores with my husband, which is often, I sometimes see Patagonia t-shirts with the slogan "Live Simply" and different designs.  I am always drawn to them, because something about those words whispers peace and contentment to me.  Lately in my prayer life God seems to be leading me in that direction- that although he is the true source of my peace and contentment, living more simply in terms of material things will remove distractions that keep my loved ones and I from him and really don't make us any happier.  In fact, sometimes they weigh me down.

My husband and I are currently preparing for the birth of our first son, due in early December.  With a little over two months to go, we can hear the clock running down on our time to purchase and assemble our baby gear and make sure the nursery is stocked and- here is my major pitfall- decorated.  Even as I write this I am mentally shopping for remaining items we don't have yet.  We jokingly refer to it as my nesting urge, and I have no doubt my hormones are playing a role, but I also am coming to notice it as a spiritual threat if left unchecked.

At times like this God makes it clear how acutely aware he is of both my life circumstances and my heart.  What better conditions to help me understand materialism and idolatry than our joy and parenting ambition combined with a subtle hint of pride and yes, competition (at least I know I am struggling with these things, I cannot speak for my husband.) 

The tricky part is that we do actually need a whole assortment of new supplies to take care of our first baby.  In a certain sense our home and belongings do need expansion.  I believe this is a key part of the nature of temptation- the kernel of truth and legitimacy, mixed with some untruth and sinful inclinations.  It is a brilliant strategy and the devil is wise; after all, he was first an angel.  But in his relentless love and faithful protection, God is persistently drawing my attention to it. 

It is ok, the Holy Spirit guides me, to purchase necessary material things.  The important thing is to ask myself what is truly needed (versus only desired) and to be responsible in my choices with regard to price.  I need to pause and look at my motivation: once I've identified that yes, we truly need this item, is my pride insisting that we have the "best" one?  Am I passing over less-expensive options that would fulfill our purpose in favor of pricier, more stylish alternatives? 

Last week I read a passage in a collection of insights of early Christians that caught my attention and articulates this point: "A life of luxury weakens the spirit. Frugality makes it strong. And yet, how can anyone be considered poor who does not feel any want, who does not covet what belongs to others, who is rich in God's eyes? Much more should he be considered poor who always craves for more while he already has much."

I don't want to perpetuate that kind of poverty in our family, to be surrounded by beautiful things but unsatisfied and distracted.  Instead, we can have the true wealth of uncluttered hearts and healthy priorities and also use our abundance to help our brothers and sisters in need.  We can give our son a legacy of contentment, humility and appreciation that will help him on his own quest for the only Treasure that satisfies and lasts.   

God Passing By

Sometimes the best barometer of God's presence and action in my life is actually my changing self- how my perceptions, choices and reactions have shifted.  Like ripples on a surface of water indicate the wind's activity, increases in my own spiritual maturity reflect God's acting upon me. Most of all, I see this in my capacity to love.  

I am encouraged when a situation presents itself that previously would have made me impatient or found me indifferent and instead I am able to see with a new perspective.  On the flip side, it also helps to reflect and see where I may have missed an opportunity.  How could I have loved that person better? How would God have liked me to respond? Each day, when viewed this way, provides opportunities for growth.  

In the book of Exodus we read about Moses boldly asking God to appear to him, saying, "show me your glory."  To be honest I don't fully understand what he means by that, but the essence seems to be that he wants the Mystery revealed, that talking with God still leaves him curious and wanting to see the Almighty face-to-face.  But there also seems to be some doubt there, a need for more proof.  (Apparently the parting of the Red Sea wasn't reassuring enough.)  In response God, ever patient and generous,  explains to him that he cannot see fullness of the divine glory but that Moses will be allowed to see God's back as He passes by.  

Like much of the Old Testament, this passage leaves me with many questions. What does God's back look like? Is it un-glorious? How does Moses benefit from such a strange encounter? What does God have up His sleeve here?  Like Moses, I'm frustrated by the mystery.  Only a piece of the puzzle has been revealed.

Yet more and more I'm noticing that my own relationship with God follows this pattern.  I hear His Voice (in my heart, not my ears)  but I am always asking to see Him.  Now that I think about it, maybe He is passing in front of me every day and I can clearly see His "back" if I look with the right eyes.  

Maybe that means listening with empathy to the problems of someone I find abrasive and instead of judging offering any help or love I can.  Or being more conscious of the unmet needs and struggles of others.

I take comfort in these everyday victories most of all because I know, deep down, that the change didn't start with me.  I am being molded by a wise and loving hand.  I can't see Him, but that doesn't mean God isn't passing by.

He/I or We

When I witness a couple in what seems to be a healthy, loving marriage, the outstanding characteristic that I notice is unity.  Beyond being simply affectionate, there is a resolute one-ness they communicate to others.  I am struck by this solidarity and lately I have noticed, with the help of the Holy Spirit, that it speaks "love" to me in a unique and pretty awe-inspiring way.  I think that this awe stems from the realization (again, God) that unity in marriage takes work, discipline, sacrifice and obedience.  In other words, it's not natural.

Since our wedding last December, I've spent more time mulling over Jesus's words in Mark on husband and wife: So they are no longer two but one flesh.  Therefore what God has joined together let man not separate.  In the past, I've always interpreted this as a warning to be vigilant about outside treats, to protect against intrusions.  But now that I'm experiencing it from the inside, I am noticing that a more subtle and insidious danger exists- my husband and I both face the daily temptation to rupture our one-ness by acting as individuals when we are designed and commanded to function as a single life.  One Flesh.  

For instance, in decisions.  When we are not physically together, inevitably we will encounter choices to be made that will affect our marriage to some degree.  I am  a very decisive person by nature, so to stop and consult my husband is both difficult and counterintuitive for me.  But when I yield to God's direction and surrender my own need to control, I find that the outcome is better than what I had planned myself.  

As his wife, I am called to trust my husband's judgement and ultimately to respect the decisions he makes on behalf  of our family.  Which is not to say that my opinion doesn't matter; only that my role is to support and not to detract.

To be one flesh means to be one body; and the body parts can't live if they don't work together.  In the same way, our marriage can't survive if we refuse unity in the name of our own individual desires.  To use some of Jesus's other words, later borrowed by Abraham Lincoln: a house divided against itself cannot stand.

So every day, with God's help, I will strive to defeat my own pride and self-will and instead watch our bond grow stronger.

"Good" Enough Isn't Good Enough

Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.  Matthew 5:48

It is becoming clear to me that when writing these posts, it is not me speaking to you so much as it is God teaching me and allowing me to share the experience with others. 

This past week my lesson has been on the subject of compromise.  More specifically, my compromises with Him.  I have been alerted to the little corners I like to cut, actions and choices that are not necessarily sinful in themselves but that constitute a turning away from what I know in my heart is the Holy Spirit's quiet direction.  So, when it seems I am not listening to that quiet direction, God speaks a little more loudly to get my attention.

I had chosen at random, or so it seemed to me, to take C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity to work with me on Thursday for reading on my lunch break.  I love his writing, and have read this book before.  But as I idly flipped through the pages while eating, I noticed some of the familiar words touching me with new significance.  Lewis writes (and I am omitting some material for the sake of brevity:)

But we are hoping all the time that when all the demands have been met,the poor natural self will still have some chance, and some time, to get on with its own life and do what it likes.

...make no mistake: if you are really going to try to meet all the demands made on the natural self, it will not have enough left over to live on.  ...Christ says 'Give Me All. I don't want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You.  I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it.  No half-measures are any good.

Ouch.  "Half-measures" is an accurate word to describe many of my decisions, though I profess to follow Christ.  And my attitude, without my realizing it until now, has been just what Lewis is describing.  Avoid the obvious sins, but you can still live like you want to.  Example: at work.  I think: "I can take a mental break here and read the news headlines on my phone.  I have ample time to get my work done, so nothing will really suffer."  And I do complete my work on time.  But at issue here is the attitude of my heart, and my disobedience to my superiors.  I have been told, as an employee, that I am to use the time given me to complete my tasks.  Nothing else.  And I have heard the Holy Spirit nudging me to discipline myself, and to stick to the task for which I am being paid.  And still, I have compromised, at the expense of my eternal well-being.  But now I am realizing that my being "good" enough is not good enough, if I truly want to belong to Christ.  More Lewis:

When He said, 'Be perfect,' He meant it.  He meant that we must go in for the full treatment.  It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hankering after is harder- in fact, it is impossible.  It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg.  We are like eggs at present.  And you [STEPHANIE] cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg.  We must be hatched or go bad.

Checkmate.  You got me, God, like You always do.  But I can see that my imperfections will not stand in the way of Your teaching, and that gives me hope and makes me happy.