Four months into quarantine. I am mixing it up a bit in the morning with walks then, instead of in the evening (really big stuff, I know) and I took the above picture then. I had a thought as I walked this morning, which is - am I owed a life, a certain type of life? A successful one, a good one?
I just finished reading With God in Russia by Fr. Walter Ciszek (have I written about this yet? I can’t remember). It is Fr. Walter’s autobiography, of the 20 years he spent in Soviet Russia - 5 in prison, 15 in work camps in Siberia - during and after WWII. I couldn’t quite figure it out what was missing from the story, until I realized it was that he never complained. Not only did he never complain (at least in the book), he often thanked God for His providence. For the ways God protected him, sheltered, brought him good fortune, of course, relatively speaking. These little blessings would amount to nearly nothing in a normal environment - an extra helping of soup, a pair of shoes that fit - but he saw every thing as adding up to God’s protection, ultimately allowing him to survive. And not only survive, but minister within the camps, and to have incredibly thriving ministries after he was released.
Admittedly, Fr. Walter took the clandestine assignment in Russia willingly, though he did not know he would spend it in prisons and camps. So I am still amazed that rather than cursing his fate, blaming God and arguing mentally with Him about the situation he was in, he not only accepted it, but actively searched for God where he was. And brought Him to others.
So that question, whether we are owed a certain type of life, one of our own design, to our own liking: of course, the answer is no. God can turn your life upside down in a day. We all know that now, because we’ve collectively experienced it.
For Fr. Walter, he gave up 20 years of his life without bitterness because he gave them freely to God. I am reminded of the suscipe prayer of St. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits (and Fr. Walter was a Jesuit):
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.
The challenge is to pray it and mean it, I think.
Maybe a small solution is to see what is in front of you, each day, not as a mistake, but as something intentional from God. That would mean all of the nonsense happening right now is part of God’s plan, and that to be able to minister to others and be light in the world doesn’t just happen on your own terms, and under the conditions you set, at a certain time. It happens here, and now.
P.S. Don’t forget - L’Arche’s virtual fundraiser is tomorrow! Sign up here. And check out their groovy new website while you’re at it.
