The end of an era

flickr/by Sapphireblue

The Willard Hotel, on Pennsylvania and 14th Street.

I often walk down this block on my commute to work, and this is one of my

favorite architectural structures in Washington, D.C.

 It was with a bittersweet heart yesterday that I marked the last day working in downtown Washington, D.C. For as many challenges I have had in my job, and I many things that frustrated me about working amidst the hustle and bustle of the city, it really was a special, grace-filled 13 months for me.

Plopping my contemplative heart in the middle of a loud, chaotic, secular work-a-day world was quite a stretch for me. Not to mention working in our Nation's capital with it's unique busyness and goings-on. But the ways in which God spoke to me, penetrating the concrete buildings, busy city sidewalks, roaring traffic and the seemingly endless hours of data-entry was such an experience of spiritual growth for me.

"Seek the Lord while He may be found. Call upon him while he is near." - Isaiah 55:6

Having spent the last six years in Catholic colleges I was used to being able to seek the Lord in distinctly sacred settings, namely Churches and chapels and religious talks. Yet this past year I discovered the unique and exciting challenge of seeking the Lord in the secular day-to-day sphere. And you know what I learned? The more secular the place, the more powerful the manifestation of His presence becomes. When you seek God inside a church, you have a greater expectation of His response. But when you seek Him in what seem like unlikely places, His presence is all the more amazing. You begin to not just experience God's presence simply confined to a church, or in your 10 minutes of prayer time, but walking with you step-by-step, each street you cross, each smile you encounter, each tender word you hear, enveloping you with His spirit.

What a gift it has been to seek a contemplative spirit in the city. I pray for others who continue to be His hands and feet in the most urban, unlikely places - that He would transform them and guide them. And I pray that as I segway into this next chapter of my life (I head to Nashville next Friday), God will reveal to me the new ways in which I shall seek His face.

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."

Our Lady of Sorrows, Pray for us

 

 ~

"  Consider how love draws all the pains, 

all the torments, all the sufferings, all the sorrows,

the wounds, the passion, the cross, 

and even the death of our Redeemer

into the heart of his most holy Mother."

- St. Francis DeSales

~

Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows. I have developed a deeper devotion to Our Lady of Sorrows over the past several years, and this is probably my favorite Marian feast day. When I am suffering and consumed with great sorrow, I find such consolation in turning to Our Lady of Sorrows. After all, she bore the greatest sorrows in her heart; to stand by the side of the Cross and watch her Son and Savior be crucified. No one can even begin to fathom the depths of sorrow, sadness, and pain that she experienced. What human being could better understand the depths of our own unique suffering, then? Who could better know the special pain of our crosses, the ones that we pick up day in, and day out?

When I am going through a difficult time in my life, and experiencing a particular sorrow, I find a great comfort and strength in talking with others who are also enduring great suffering.  There is such solace found in uniting ourselves with others who are in the midst of pain, for they know in a deep, profound way that pain plagues our hearts. It is like this with Our Lady of Sorrows, too, except she understands our suffering much deeper than any other human being could. And her heart is more closely united with the Savior's heart than any other human heart. If we join our sorrow to her sorrows then, we join them together in the Savior's Sacred Heart to become purified, healed, and made new.

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!

The Widow's Mite

Structuring and achieving an active spiritual life as a young professional can be very difficult at times. I have felt this frustration very keenly over the past few months. Perhaps this is not simply because the duties of working keep me busy for the greater part of the week, but because without a car, I am at the mercy of the (often unreliable) and inflexible schedule of public transportation. I would love to be able to hop in my car after work and go to the adoration chapel for a half an hour in the evenings sometime. Or have a Church close enough to my work that I could go to Mass on my lunch break. The reality is though, due to the location of my work, a relatively unflexible schedule, and the inability to just hop in my car and catch an evening Mass or night adoration, it's difficult for me to incorporate these spiritual events into my daily routine.

As someone who went to two vibrant Catholic colleges, with a plethora of daily Mass options and Eucharistic chapels right down the hall, it's disappointing not to be able to make these things part of my day everyday. These were definitely aspects of college life that I took for granted, and didn't realize how difficult it would be at times to get to daily Mass or adoration on a 8:30-5pm schedule as a young professional. Last week, I was particularly frustrated that I am seemingly a "slacker" in the spiritual life compared to many of my friends who are able to get to daily Mass and adoration on a much more regular basis. Yet as I was bemoaning my state, I felt the Lord say to me very clearly, "remember the widows mite".

Mark 12:42-44 says,

"But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on."

As I recalled this story, I felt the Lord encouraging me in my desire to give Him His due honor, worship, and praise. Sure, I could accomplish a lot more spiritual activities if I had a more flexible means of transportation, or more flexible schedule. But that is not how my life is structured right now. Right now, all He is asking of me is to give out of my poverty, and offer what I can to Him. Even if that just means being faithful to reading my Magnificat prayers each morning as I ride into work when I would rather be daydreaming or reading a novel. For those of us who aren't able to attend daily Mass or adoration, He is asking us to give Him our hearts, in union with the Sacrifice of the Mass; our desire to be with Him and to know Him more deeply in itself will bring Him great glory and honor. He merely asks us to give what we've got. He's not asking us to give what our friend has got, what our neightbor has got, or what or aunt has got. He is asking us to give what we have got. It could be a wide open schedule full of time to fit in multiple spiritual devotions a day, or it could be making it a priority to pray in the very midst of the hustle and bustle.

I remember vividly a talk that a graduate of Franciscan University of Steubenville gave to a group of Communication Arts students my senior year. She was talking about her job as a film producer and the integration of her spiritual life within that hectic schedule. She was reminding us that we were not always going to have the luxury of having the time or means to attend daily Mass, adoration, or prayer groups. Depending on what God was asking us to do in our lives and the circumstances that He places us in, it would most likely be a lot harder to find structured time to pray. I remember her saying that sometimes her spiritual life consisted, at the end of the day, a desperate prayer to the Lord, "Jesus, I need your help."

So I pray for the grace to give Him my fraction of a penny. May I give it with a zealous, sincere, and loving heart, in whatever way He asks.

Lenten Resolutions

So tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Hard to believe it's here already. Lent always seems to sneak up on me; just when I am getting complacent in the February dullness. It's a really good opportunity to reorient myself and reinvigorate myself spiritual focus. Like many others, I suspect, I am no good at this self-denial thing. Either I choose something really drastic (like going from three cups of coffee a day to none...caffeine withdrawal headache anyone?) or I completely lose focus of why I am giving something up because I am completely caught up in trying to abstain from my favorite sugar, junk food, or social networking indulgence. I am truly amazed at people who can remain faithful to their Lenten sacrifice while also keeping the meaning of this sacrifice foremost in their mind.

So today, on Fat Tuesday, I am reflecting on what I should give up or do, this Lent. As I write this though, I am realizing that it is not as much as what I decide I should do, but what God is calling me to do. How He is asking me to purify my life, even in the little things. One Lenten resolution that came to me this morning is for me to strive to spend 30 minutes a day in personal prayer. Although I have been more or less able to do morning and sometimes evening prayer on my commute to work, I think it would be incredibly transformative to spend more quite time in prayer listening to the Lord. Wrapped up in this goal will simultaneously be some sort of self-denial required for me to find this extra time in my day. I guess it will either mean waking up a half an hour earlier each day (eek!) or by passing my normal evening activity of surfing Facebook. I am hoping to find a good Lenten devotional through which I can focus my prayer. If you have any suggestions of good devotionals, I would love to hear them.

Here's to a blessed, grace-filled, transformative Lent to all of you!