Epiphany: The Gift of the Magi

Friends, it is Epiphany, and I am re-sharing something I recorded a couple years ago, which is O. Henry’s short story, The Gift of the Magi. I recorded this using a Blue Yeti microphone in my apartment in one take, and it is still one of my favorite things I have done.

Anyway, without further ado:

The Gift of the Magi

Know Thyself: A Workshop for Growing in Self-Awareness

Happy new year, everybody! 2020 has dawned, along with a new decade, and we are that much closer to hovercrafts and fully automated McDonald’s.

Something I am thrilled to share in this new year is a course I’ll be teaching next month at the fabulous General Assembly DC (seriously - go read about what they do. Not just a coding school, but a hub for career and personal growth overall. Very cool). Called “Know Thyself: A Workshop for Growing in Self-Awareness,” the purpose of the course is to lead attendees through a discussion of what self-awareness is, why it is critical for healthy relationships, and why it comes in handy in the workplace. Think: leading teams, making ethical choices, building trust, following your instinct. I am also excited because we’ll be doing a few of my favorite things, including an exercise to identify one’s chosen values - and how to live them consistently - writing and journaling as a means to self-discovery, and of course, prayer and the examination of conscience. It is all of my favorite things wrapped up into one. And I cannot wait to share it!

You can check the course out directly on GA’s website, which will take you to the EventBrite to register.

Register today! This makes a great gift for yourself in the new year, or for a friend or colleague who needs a little nudge in that direction.

Date: Saturday, February 8, 2020

Time: 9:00 am-12:00 pm

Location: General Assembly DC, 509 7th St NW, Washington, DC 20004

Buy Tickets

Last thoughts

The end of the year, and in this case, of the decade, is not significant. Time is constant and persistent, it will always roll on. All of God’s time is holy and important.

But as humans, we like to mark the beginnings and the ends of things, to measure our growth and progress, to remember the significant moments that make us say, “Ah, that is better left behind,” or, “How I wish I had done that differently. Next year I will do better.”

For the sake of playing along with this spirit of reflectiveness, and in recognition of the innate human desire to make resolutions and look ahead, I have a few closing thoughts for this year.

One is that I have been foolish this year. Maybe you have, too. I did not understand others or myself as well as I could. I communicated at the wrong times and in the wrong ways; I assumed, I misinterpreted, I wished. I wanted my will, and not God’s.

In other words, I was human.

“I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ez 36:26) At times, it feels my heart is far too flesh - too susceptible to this weakness and foolishness.

On the Feast of the Holy Family, I was at a parish where the crucifix is suspended from the ceiling with wires, which are adorned with pretty silver balls, maybe to steady vibrations. I was looking up at one of those during Mass and a strange thought settled into my mind: even when tragedy occurs, and especially loss, life is not over. It does not end, even if we want it to, and even if our grief tells us that nothing good is possible from here on out, and that, “I will not survive this grief.” That I cannot survive this grief - my goodness, I do not deserve to.

What does God want with my weak heart? Or maybe it is one of stone - how could He not look away?

But something about looking up at the cross and its little silver adornments - maybe just the action of looking up to God, in a literal and metaphysical way - this truth came through for me, that not only does life go on, but it must go on. It is not over. Even in my stupidity and shortcomings, God still calls me. Maybe because of these things. I am not a lesser person for experiencing the heartbreak of life. No one escapes that anyway, you know.

And God says, now you see. Now you see how much you need me, and I have not for one moment looked away, and that now, more than I ever, I need you, and I call you. Still - always.

I saw my own heart in that moment - very fragile. Very different from Jesus’s. I wanted to give it to him in that moment, so He could make it more like His. It isn’t that I can’t be trusted with my own heart, but it is that He can. And it belongs to Him, anyway. Who better to care for it?

Next year I do not resolve to be less weak, but rather, to truly turn that weakness over to God. To beg, if I must, for the grace to give in to the flow of time and accept God’s will. To recognize, as Jean Vanier wrote, that my deepest identity is that of “beloved by God.” Pray for me to understand and receive these things, and I will pray the same for you.

May the peace and freedom of Jesus Christ fill your heart in 2020 and forever.