theROCK

Faith. Hope. Perseverence.

On August 27, we celebrate the feast of St. Monica. I “met” St. Monica a few years ago. While I knew of her, I took the time to learn more about her in order to establish a friendship. I now call upon her daily as I try to live with and understand the changing nature of my role as mother, now that my children are adults. This is a struggle for me; the balancing act between continuing to teach but doing it in a way that will not be seen as too pushy. The life of St. Monica sheds some light on how to navigate this tenuous terrain. After all, I only want the best for my children, all children, and that is a life rooted in Jesus Christ. 

St. Monica was married to a pagan man who respected her beliefs but was unwilling to have their three children baptized. Their children were Augustine, Navigus, and Perpetua.  Monica would pray fervently for her husband’s conversion, and one year prior to his death, he was converted. In that time, Navigus and Perpetua entered into religious life, but Augustine was nothing but lazy and uncouth. Worried, Monica sent him away to Carthage for an education. Unfortunately, Augustine established an appreciation for a philosophy of life that was not Christian. Upon returning home and telling his mother, she kicked him out of the house. Feeling remorse, she reconciled with her son and pursued a different approach. She sought counsel from many people and  eventually forged a relationship with St. Ambrose. Augustine was eventually brought to conversion after seventeen years of persistence. Augustine went on to become St. Augustine.  (www.catholic.org).

What was the secret? Faith. Hope.  Perseverance in prayer. St. Monica found every avenue to teach in subtle and not so subtle ways. She called upon the Saints. She asked for help.  She sought support. She relied upon the Mass and making sacrifices. Her story demonstrates how even when you don’t think your children/next generation isn’t paying attention or listening, they most certainly are. If you read Confessions by St. Augustine, you will definitely see that St. Monica’s actions had more of an impact than her words. She never gave up on her son, because God never gives up on us. 

St. Monica,
I need your prayers. You know exactly how I'm feeling because you once felt it yourself. I'm hurting, hopeless, and in despair. I desperately want my child to return to Christ in his Church but I can't do it alone. I need God's help. Please join me in begging the Lord's powerful grace to flow into my child's life. Ask the Lord Jesus to soften his heart, prepare a path for his conversion, and activate the Holy Spirit in his life. Amen.

The Hidden Room

Whenever I am invited over to a house I am always reminded of the times when my family had the priest over for dinner. I remember how special it was that Father so and so was going to be sitting at our table. I also remember how much work it could be as well. While the visit itself was fun, the preparation for the priest’s visit was a different matter. Growing up in a family of seven, our house was not the most organized. This meant that afternoons were spent with every child’s favorite past time: chores and cleaning.

On the day of Father’s visit, all hands were on deck to make the house presentable. As the hours ticked by, my siblings and I used every trick we knew to excuse ourselves from the task at hand (much to the frustration of my parents), until time inevitably began to run out.

With plenty of toys and hobbies still spewed throughout the house, my Mother would give one final desperate command: “throw everything in the bedroom”! It was an easy, efficient, and effective solution. When Father arrived he walked into a clean and put together household. Little did he know that behind a certain closed door lay a chaotic mess.

I am sure many families share this particular experience (which is why I don’t go opening closed doors during visits), but all of us can also relate on a personal level as well. How many of us do exactly this in our interior life? How many of us, worried about the mess in our emotional, spiritual, physical house, throw it all into a hidden room of our heart? How many of us hide our mess even from God?

I know I do. I want people to see me as an organized, well put together person. In a strange way I even want God to see me in this way. So I hide my mess, I stressfully gather it all up and throw it in a separate room to be dealt with later. The problem is, I often do not deal with it later and I keep piling the mess even higher. Even more ironic, it’s the houses that are not the most organized which make me feel right at home, partly because it makes it all more human.  

God did not become man in the person of Jesus Christ because we are organized and put together. God became man because we are a mess. The more we hide our mess from him the less he can help us truly clean up. So I guess the question is: what mess are we hiding from God?

I Want Jesus

Recently, I was reading a book on Mother Teresa. It told a story from the end of her life that struck me.  

One time when she was in the hospital and too weak to speak, she motioned to one of the sisters to bring her a piece of paper and a pen. Then with great difficulty, she wrote out the words, “I want Jesus.” In the days she was in the hospital, she had not been able to go to Mass and deeply desired to receive the Eucharist so that Jesus could be even closer to her in this time of suffering. 

As I considered this story and today’s Gospel, I found myself thinking about the times I do not put my love of Jesus first, the times I place keeping peace in relationships, my “free time,” sleep, and so many other things before my relationship with Jesus, the one who loves me so much more than I could ever imagine. I found myself remembering the times I have resisted picking up my cross, the times I have avoided leaning into difficult relationships, or have tried to avoid suffering. Oh how I need to repent and turn back to the Lord over and over again!  

As I continued to pray, Jesus then reminded me of the times when I have continued to show up to prayer, when I’ve tried to grow in love for my neighbor, where I’ve tried to embrace suffering and turn to him in it. It has been in these times that Jesus has invited me deeper and ultimately made me more and more into the woman he has created me to be. 

This week I am asking the Lord to help make my prayer more open to his invitations so that I can begin to say “I want Jesus” every day of my life.