From drudgery to prayer

A common theme of this blog, (and my life) particularly over the past year is meditating on how monotonous, rote-filled work days can reveal to me God's presence and His purpose for me. Perhaps others who have more exciting, challenging, and "rewarding" jobs have other themes that God is using to work in their lives. Maybe for you folks it's teaching you how to trust, giving you energy, giving you courage to carry out new initiatives, etc.

flickr/by mcclave

But the rest of us on the other end of the spectrum (and I suspect that there are many of you in a similar boat as myself), are continually trying to find meaning and purpose within our monotony. I often get very caught up in the "grass is always greener on the other side" syndrome, and find myself frequently thinking that if I was "in my vocation", be it as a wife and mother, a religious sister, or a consecrated Catholic single, I would be much more content, and life would be much more interesting. Yet as I was walking down the sidewalk during my lunch break today I was reminded that no matter what vocation you are in, many moments of your life are made up of this "drudgery". As a mother you will be doing laundry, grocery shopping and doing dishes, day in, and day out. As a religious, you are far from exempt from such daily duties as well - instead, they make up a major part of your life in between structured prayer times.

"Hmm," I thought to myself earlier today. "I guess I might as well get used to drudgery!"

It's one thing to hear the words of saints like St. Therese of Lisieux and St. Joseph Maria Escriva and their teachings on sanctifying one's daily work. It's another thing entirely to die to yourself and your desire for more naturally fulfilling, interesting work. It takes a deliberate act of the will to let this awareness of sanctifying grace seep into you and permeate your day. I would rather grumble through the day, frustrated to be so bored.

I am coming to a deeper awareness more and more that the key to transforming work from sheer drudgery to the opportunity to see the Lord reveal Himself in and through your work is daily prayer. When you start your day out with prayer (and better yet when you end it with prayer too), you can see all these little things in His light, and gain a glimpse of that Meaning behind it all. Without setting your work and your day before Him, it's easy for work to simply be laborious and nothing more. Yet I wonder, for those of us who are plagued with drudgery, if we do not experience a unique magnificence of His glory. For we have an opportunity to see His face in the least expected places, and He penetrates the ordinary corners of our little lives. We can't rely on the high of living a glamorous, entertaining job or adventure -- we are called take deep, deliberate looks throughout our day in order to uncover the pearl of great price.

In closing, I want to share a quote from Oswald Chambers from his book, "My Utmost for His Highest", in an essay on "Taking the Initiate Against Drudgery" :

"...if we will arise and shine, drudgery will be divinely transformed. Drudgery is one of the finest test to determine the genuineness of our character. Drudgery is work that is far removed from anything we think of as ideal work. It is utterly hard, menial, and dirty work. And when we experience it, our spirituality is genuinely tested and we will know or not whether we are spiritually genuine...

The inspiration of God is required if drudgery is to shine with the light of God upon it. In some cases the way a person does a task that makes work sanctified and holy forever. It may be a very common everyday task, but after we have seen it done, it becomes different. When the Lord does something through us, He always transforms it."

Small enough

On my way to work this morning as I was reading my morning prayer, I was thinking about how I was not looking forward to beginning the boring drudgery of my job. Same old, same old. Rather monotonous, not exciting. I am sure that I have alluded to this before, but as someone with a strong melancholic disposition, I am spurred on by feeling as if I am working towards some great ideal, changing the world and making a difference. Doing something honorable and noble. When I don't feel a sense of passionate purpose for my work it's very difficult for me to maintain an enthusiastic attitude towards my duty. I am a visionary who likes to connect my task and experience of the moment with a sweeping vision of grandeur - the grandeur of seeking the Good, the True, and the Beautiful. The problem is, as deeply as I seek to connect the mundane with the holy in my daily life, I am often frustrated when I am unable to see how the tiny acts of faithfulness add up to a bigger, noble project of obedience.

I think that all of us who seek to do the work of the Lord would choose, if possible, to do the more glamorous work, such as being a missionary in a foreign country, or writing books that will change hearts. It struck me this morning, that so much of doing God's will in our lives is dependent on us letting ourselves be small enough. Small enough to accept that God knows in advance the good works He has prepared for us to do. Even if these are the most seemingly secular, straightforward, material tasks. This is His will for us, His way to lead us closer to Himself, His mysterious way of our sanctification. It's that little letting go, that obedience to do small things, that has the potential to bring forth great grace. The grace of the moment, though, is just oh so hidden. Especially when I think about how I just want to take a nap at 2pm, or how meaningless the task at hand seems. Grace...huh? Holiness? I'm just bored! The grace of the moment is waiting for us, in our selfless assent to complete the duty of the moment with love.

This morning in an effort to rouse myself to be more productive and faithful in my workday, I read some quotes on the website escrivaworks.org. I found out later that tomorrow is Saint Josemaria Escriva's feast day, so reflecting on his words was all the more fitting. This quote was particularly inspirational to me:

"When you started your ordinary work again, something like a groan of complaint escaped you: “It’s always the same!”

And I told you: “Yes, it’s always the same. But that ordinary job —which is the same one your fellow workers do — has to be a constant prayer for you. It has the same lovable words, but a different tune each day.”

It is very much our mission to transform the prose of this life into poetry, into heroic verse." - The Furrow, 500

In fulfilling our mundane daily duties, whether they be in the office, in the home, or in the school, we are charged with the challenge to transform all of these tasks into an act of love. It is by doing these tasks with love that we offer our efforts to Christ and our work is made holy. To be completely honest though, I must say that I don't really know what it means, on a practical level, to offer your tasks to the Lord as an act of love. There is still a bit of a disconnect for me. I suppose that it begins with a prayer, or a series of prayers throughout the duration of the tasks of the day in conscienously offering your work as a prayer. It means looking for the Lord in the midst of these tasks. I envision that above all, it is a disposition of the heart that one develops by assenting to the duties of the moment, especially the small ones. By giving our own fiat, moment by moment, we accept what the Lord has for us. And in this moment, we find His love burning there. I wish I could get there in one fell swoop. I wish this was a disposition that I could just acquire automatically. But I know that it's a process and a grace, learned along the journey.

St. Josemaria Escriva, pray for us!

Little is much

It continually humbles me the way that the Lord uses His lowly ones to proclaim His message of love, joy, and mercy. Time and time again I have encountered men, women, and children in the city who clearly have a tough life according to the world's standards, and yet they radiate an infectious sense of hope and serenity. One particular person that has touched me in this way is one of the janitors at my office. We'll call him Martin.

Martin comes to collect the recyclables out of the office recycling bins every day. An African American man of about 40, he is a lanky, balding fellow always sporting the blue pinstripe cleaning uniform polo and baggy navy work pants. Often, he is chewing on a toothpick, but this doesn't deter his cheerful interactions with all of the office staff.

If I were in his place, working his job, I would be incredibly sulky and disenchanted. I mean, who wants the monotonous job of emptying garbage cans all day? But you would think that he was as content as a man who was performing the tasks of his dream job; Martin is always cheerful, always offering a joy-filled greeting to those he passes by. "Hi, how are you?" he'll ask as he energetically empties the bin. "I'm good," I answer, trying to be cheerful too. In my head though, many times I am thinking about how my verbal answer masks my discontent: I wish I were doing something more meaningful, more challenging, more productive. I wish I was doing something where I could clearly see that I was touching lives and changing the world. Or I wish I didn't have a headache, or I wish I had more money, a car, or just a more clearly defined plan for my life.

Then I tell Martin "thank you", and he says with a genuine spirit, "yo're welcome," and and bounces off empty the next plastic bin. Sometimes, I run into him when I am leaving for the day, and he'll say "Have a good night, now," and I know he really means it - he's not just being polite to the other employees because his superior told him to.

I am truly floored by Martin's joy in the midst of such a mundane job. His simplicity and contentment to be a good garbage man and do his job well is really an inspiration. I find myself thinking, "If people like Martin can be content and joyful with the seemingly insignificant and boring jobs that they have to do, day in, and day out, there is no reason why I can be a little more content in what God is calling me to do at this moment."

I sense that Martin just possesses a deep spirit of gratitude that I have yet to reach. I don't know if Martin is a Christian, or what his story is, but from his interactions and disposition, I think that he is very grateful for the ways that he is blessed, and is provided for. Nothing else but this spirit could explain a joyful heart in such circumstances.

And so I pray for a grateful heart. I pray for a heart that sees the blessing in every little task that the Lord has prepared for me, because all of us were" created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." (Ephesians 2:10)

I sense that people such as Martin are able to live the teachings of St. Therese the Little Flower in a very real way, in that they transform ordinary tasks into beautiful works of mercy by the way that they imbue joy. St. Therese said, "To pick up a pin for love can convert a soul." It's humbling to think of how many opportunities we have love the Lord and love others by offering our mundane tasks to Him. Why is it so much easier to complain, rather than to whisper a little prayer of offering? May He give us the grace to allow Him to transform our data entry, our e-mail checking, and our trash can emptying into something beautiful and truly joy-filled.