Am I owed a life?

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.

Some flowers and a curious dog

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Sharing these photos from a recent walk. Beautiful and peaceful. And, look at that dog’s mustache and eyebrows! He had a lot to tell me, as it turned out.

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L'Arche: Called to Connection live event

In April, L’Arche Greater Washington, DC was going to hold our regularly planned spring fundraising breakfast. It’s a simple, joyful, one-hour event meant to bring old friends together, and introduce new friends to the community. Last year, I got to emcee the event alongside a core member from one of the Arlington homes, Kelly. We had a blast! And were looking forward to doing it again this year.

2020 being what it is, we have decided to move the event online. On Thursday, June 25, at 7 pm EDT, L’Arche will hosts its first ever live event, called Called to Connection. You can register here.

A few things in store: we will be debuting a brand new video about the life of a core member, Andrew (you can view the last special film made, about Fritz, here - I highly recommend, and bring the tissue box), an update on how community has fared (and had to make changes) through COVID-19, a message from Executive Director Like Smith who is a superb public speaker and communicator about L’Arche’s mission, and I still get to emcee - just virtually! So come to see me sort of read cue cards on my desktop, if nothing else.

The community has had a bit of practice with virtual events, as we have been having virtual prayer nights once a month. Tons of people from all over the country “attend,” and that has been a real blessing, to be connected to people who would not otherwise be able to be there.

Now, one other thing on this topic: people ask my why I love L’Arche so much. To begin with, it simply is a wonderful, pro-life organization doing God’s work and living the Gospel. To L’Arche, it really means something that blessed are the poor in spirit.

Personally, it is also that I see we as humans spend our whole lives trying to make peace with our brokenness. And I’ve seen how people with disabilities do this naturally, without a second thought. When I am around a person with intellectual disabilities, somewhat reliant on others, I think, Oh, that’s me. Only, they’re doing it better. Often, people with intellectual disabilities - especially those who live in loving, secure homes like L’Arche core members - are not stuck in the agony of overthinking identity. They just are. So I see myself in them and vice versa, and I see how I can learn something.

If that sounds confusing, maybe it is. I just know that I am drawn to this community, and have been from the beginning, and it is something I am still figuring out. I responded with a (hear it in a Bishop Barron French accent) cri de coeur, or cry of the heart. I ask other people to join me, as they may experience a similar cry.