Do Not Be Anxious

I was just blessed with a glorious 24 hour mini retreat with a prayer group I attend. The theme of the retreat was trust, specifically trusting in the Holy Trinity. I gave a talk on the Holy Spirit aspect of that effort. I wrote it before the horrific events in Israel and the exercise has helped me turn to God with this darkness rather than turning to fear. May it be so in all things. 

Veni Sancte Spiritus

The very last time I saw my father I had to tell him I was pregnant. A pregnancy that he knew was against the advice of my doctors. He was worried for me and the baby. But by the end of our visit he managed to hug me, looked me in the eye and declared, “You are so blessed.” 

He died suddenly while on a business trip in Maine a few weeks later. 

We were going through his newspaper office collecting his things when Mom found a scripture taped prominently to his computer. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7 

We found a good-bye in this. This would become my father’s last advice, a lesson I continue to ponder. Present your requests to God? Ask. With Thanksgiving in every situation? Thank. Do not be anxious about anything? Trust. 

Ask. Thank. Trust.

I had ask down pat. There was no need or desire I wouldn’t bring to God. Help! Please! Guide! Heal! Find! Forgive! Protect! Asking came easy. A plus plus. 

Thank? B minus. It’s easy to thank him for the answered asks. Easy to list the blessings. Harder to see the blessings in the crosses, but attitude of gratitude was already something I valued and practiced. 

The part that pierced me was Trust. Do not be anxious? As someone who lost sleep on the regular envisioning what ifs, tempered only by accusatory detailed dissections of the dumb or downright sinful things I’d said and done that day or 7 years prior, this was like telling a fish to fly. Debilitating anxiety was just where I’d always lived.

Anxiety stole more than my sleep. It prevented new friendships, job opportunities, and dates. It laid claim to my talents, never allowing me to step into light. Worry stole my voice. And Worry made hard things seem impossible. 

But with God all things are possible. 

It took time and grief and above all, God’s grace and mercy but the circumstances of the loss of my father and many other events in my life I once could only see as tragic have been somehow washed clean by the beauty of God’s Peace, as promised. 

What changed?

Well, first that pregnancy though medically complicated, resulted in a blessed birth of our healthy daughter. An amazing answer to prayer. 

And then I fell for the Holy Spirit.

I knew of Him, of course. But I didn’t think about Him much, I let him remain shadowed in the mystery of the trinity, some fiery bird that brave people knew. I thought I was doing ok with Faith in God the father, and Gratitude for my savior, his son, and even devotion to his mom. But that faith was pretty quiet, hidden within the walls of my house and church. This little light of mine was hidden under the bushel. 

Then, a few years after losing my dad, I attended a retreat. And there, the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of Life, revealed Himself to me. I caught His fire. I was praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet for the first time ever. When in the third decade, I felt the Holy Spirit gently encouraging me to surrender the false sense of control I had over my burdens, my sick son, my health problems, my complicated relationships with family, and most of all, the worry that made it all seem so impossible.  I had relationship with my creator and my redeemer, but I hadn’t known the love that flowed between them, a love so powerful, another person of God springs forth, the very essence of God’s love, stirring us into action, compelling us to take our faith beyond the walls

With God’s grace I responded to this prompting and laid it all down at the foot of his merciful cross. Jesus, I trust in you.

When I first encountered Dad’s last message, I balked at the idea of not being anxious. It seemed an inextricable trait I couldn’t control and didn’t have the ability to change. I held onto the security that everything depended on me. In Truth, everything depends on God.

The moment I accepted the invitation to lay it all down, he relieved me of the burden of carrying it all alone, and he filled me with the strength to entrust him with the outcome. The hands that had tightly grasped were now open to receive and give. 

It has been 9 years since that Divine Mercy moment, and I can still say it was transformative, releasing the hold anxiety had over my life. Letting the Holy Spirit in has allowed me to be more fully who God calls me to be. To live my faith out loud, to reach out beyond my own little concerns open to being his Hands and Face to others. I now trust that there is no suffering that God will not transform into good. He asks us to surrender it to Him so he can make it holy. 

Trusting in the Holy Spirit does not let me off the hook of doing my part. He requires my cooperation. The Spirit could whisper the plan in my ear, rearrange the stars, or send a billboard. OR some spiritual or physical work could be involved. As I was writing this, I slammed the laptop shut, and declared what I’d written dumb. My husband said, “Just get up, trust in the Holy Spirit and speak from the heart. What’s this talk about?” 

“Trusting in the Holy Spirit,” I replied sheepishly. This incident highlights my point. I could have simply trusted in the Spirit to deliver this talk and the Spirit could certainly use me as a vessel. But without prayer, preparation, checking the theology, and practice, I wouldn’t be fully cooperating, or using the gifts the Spirit has bestowed. My feeling that these words are dumb, was not inspired by the Holy Spirit, but by the one that wants to deter us from proclaiming Him. 

Over time and encouraged by the examples of my favorite Saints,  I’ve learned I can walk more confidently in the ways the Spirit leads and can more readily recognize His promptings by not only surrendering my will to match His, but by aiming to turn to God in all things and trusting in the visible Church he left to guide me. 

Surrendering my will is something I’ve learned I have to do over and over. I lay it down, but can struggle with the leaving it there. I flounder in my trust like Peter on the waves. 

The antidote is keeping my gaze fixed on God. 

The things I value get my first fruits. I develop trust with my family and friends by cultivating relationships. I try to keep our home comfortable and inviting. I care about what we wear and what we eat. I fill the calendar with work and fun. 

Yet, my patron St Therese reminds us, The world is thy ship and not thy home.

What space in my life have I given to the one who will be, God willing, intimately with me for all eternity? The job, the house, and the family can and will be stripped away imminently. What will matter to me then? What lasts? Only God.

So I strive to give God better fruit, seeking the Father in his Creation, in the inherent dignity of others. God wants to be my eternal spouse. He woos me in every breath, every glimpse of beauty, every act of love I encounter. All He asks is for me to receive it with my little empty hands.

I seek the Son in my sufferings, in stubbed toes, and diseases, in grief and sacrifice. 

St Therese, known for her little way offered up even minor frustrations, chores, irritating noises or meals she disliked and wrapped them up as gifts to God, wasting nothing. I waste so much holy fuel!

I seek Jesus also in resurrections, triumphs, conversions. I find the Spirit, our advocate in the still small voice, the conscience, the desire for virtue, and the prompting to do the next right thing and leaving the outcome to God. 

Giving God His due helps me to discern which voice is His. 

Another voice I’ve learned to seek, is the sweet sound of the spouse of the Holy Spirit. He overshadowed her quietly bringing forth the Incarnation, then returned later in the roar of Pentecost, lighting Holy Fire to the earth and expanding her maternal care over all. Mother, Daughter, and Spouse of God, yet model of humility, surrender, and obedience. 

After St Catherine Laboure’s mother died she held a statue of Mary and said “Now you will be my Mother.” When my kids were young and I felt overwhelmed, I’d imagine Mary siting in the room, knowing I’d be less likely to say or do anything she wouldn’t like. In emergencies, I’d call her name over and over and over and she gave me the strength to endure. I call her to mind as I put my jewelry on each morning asking her to remain with me. In times of fear or concern, I reach for her miraculous medal around my neck pleading for grace and motherly advice. I seek comfort beneath her mantle and give her my knots to untie. I’ve imagined what I’d say to Mary if I were blessed with Catherine’s hours of kneeling at her feet, their hands entwined in the lap that cuddled and bounced the baby Jesus and then cradled his lifeless body at the foot of the cross. 

As my devotion to Mary grows, I’ve learned to trust that no love or attention I give to the Blessed Mother stays with her, she is the moon merely reflecting the light of her son. Mary knows Jesus best and she loves to tell us all about Him. 

Despite seeking the spiritual, often God feels hidden. Thank God, he gave me a tangible way to find Him through the One Holy Catholic Apostolic Church. 

St John Paul II reminds us true freedom comes not in doing whatever we want, but rather in the ability to do what we ought. Jesus gave us the Church and put Peter in charge. Then that love that pours fourth from Father and Son we call the Holy Spirit guides and grows this dynamic entity filled with sinful humans. Jesus asks us to trust in the Church He made for us. 

Padre Pio did not understand why he must endure the stigmata, the wounds of Christ on his body, not because he didn’t want the suffering, but because he didn’t want the attention. Pio wanted to live a quiet, humble life devoted to Jesus. But the crowds kept coming. The Eucharist was the most important part of his life, yet he obeyed without question when he was ordered by the Church to discontinue celebrating public Mass and was prevented from hearing confessions, or giving spiritual direction or even blessings for the years while he was under investigation. Some allies wanted to gather evidence of the scandals of his accusers to present to the hierarchy in hopes of reversing his punishment. Padre Pio angrily responded to the suggestion, "You devil, you! Go, throw yourself at the foot of the Church instead of writing this garbage! Don't you set yourself up against your Mother!” Eventually, the holy and remarkable life of Padre Pio was recognized, and his obedience another sign of God’s grace working in his life. 

 

It is pride that tells me I know better. I’ve mistakenly told myself the church doesn’t know my circumstances. Or the rules are outdated. Or God would understand. 

I’ve been challenged to submit even when I didn’t understand or agree. There is nothing God asks us to do that he won’t give us the grace to obey. 

Obedience can be summed up in the words, “Thy will be done.” God has clearly shown His will for us by creating our Mother, the Church to guide us, to wash us, to provide comfort and healing, to welcome us in, to challenge us, and to see us safely into the awaiting arms of Jesus when we enter the next life. 

The Church is our ship and our way home. 

Within that church Jesus created a mystical way to remain fully present to every soul at all times by humbling himself to become our food in every tabernacle, in every Catholic Church, in every community around the world. I am what I eat. I need the tangible food of heaven and graces that cleanse my soul and compels me towards holiness.

St Faustina described receiving Holy Communion as the most solemn moment of her life and longed for each reception. She called it the “Bread of the Strong.”

St Faustina was given the mission of highlighting the infinite ocean of God’s mercy. We encounter the Divine physician who not only cleanses our souls of our sins, but heals our deepest wounds. It quiets, at least momentarily, the voice of the accuser, the source of our fears. Reconciliation is a grace, a gift. When we confess we rest in God’s forgiveness not only for ourselves, but for the whole world. No matter how grievous my sin, or how far I run, he seeks me out ready to lavish his Divine Mercy the moment I turn back. Faustina spoke of entering into the Sacred Heart of Jesus as she went into the confessional. Oh to remain in his heart!

Through another sacrament of the church, the Holy Spirit gives us all the tools we need to cooperate with God’s grace and live in peace, surrendering our will and trusting in God alone. We may not remember, but at our Confirmation, we were given actual spiritual gifts, like arrows aimed at life’s trials. We’re given Wisdom to judge truth. Understanding to “see” God. Counsel to be guided rightly. We’re given fortitude to overcome obstacles and try again when we fail, Knowledge of faith, piety to give God his due, and fear of God to help us flee from offending Him. 

If we utilize these gifts, the fruit will come, giving us more of what we want! Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Generosity, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.

The Church was truly given a perfect guardian in the Holy Spirit.  What freedom is found when listening to what the Church tells us! Obedience in the One whose power is true is the path to happiness and freedom.

As I reflect again on dad’s scripture, Ask. Thank. Trust, I’ve become aware of the connection of these actions and have adopted his advice to give. First, Ask. Bring it all to God. He can take it. Bring the pleadings, the wonderings, the big and little worries. Bring the anger, Ask it all. And ask what He wants for you to have, to know, to wonder. 

Asking leads to the thanking. We’re to respond to the answers, the gifts, and even the silence knowing His ways are best. There’s an often repeated exercise to imagine if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you thanked God for today. Maybe I’d only have dinner.  I want to be thanking God more than I’m asking. 

And then there’s Trust. The trust will come if we surrender our will and allow him into our messes.

The more we ask and thank, the more we can trust that God is the source of all good, that the transcendent peace that comes to guard our hearts is the Power of the Holy Spirit. 

Let us ask the Holy Spirit to stir up those gifts in us again, so we can step out into the light, fully who God made us to be, a beloved daughter, seeking Him, thanking him and trusting in his will. 

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

Amen.

Aside: This scripture happened to be the 2nd reading at Mass on what would have been Dad's 80th birthday on October 8. Alex happened to lector for the first time at Benedictine Abbey that day. He was supposed to have the first reading, but another lector asked to swap with him last minute. Alex proclaimed his "Papa's wisdom" to the world on his birthday. Thanks, Dad!