I don’t know what set it off, but as I was walking back to the sacristy after Mass last weekend, my mind was running a list of people. And what was going wrong in their lives.
For some of them, it was something they did to themselves. For others, it was something that just happened to them.
The only common thread? Me. They were all people I knew.
It was almost like I was gossiping. But to myself. Pointing things out. And not in a nice way.
Thinking about what someone was facing. And then saying to myself, “I don’t even think she’s trying to do anything about it.”
Recalling what someone said. How they verbally stepped all over someone. Thinking to myself, “I can’t believe he said that. He didn’t have to, he could have just let it go. That was a real jerk move.”
“There are some messed up dynamics in that family. I wonder how long it will be before it blows up?”
I caught myself, I started to notice my attitude, as I was walking through the sanctuary. I was pointing out what was wrong. Not to help, but out of some kind of morbid curiosity. I was enjoying doing it.
Almost on autopilot, I got up to the altar and genuflected. And that’s when God hit me with a simple flip of the script.
I could hear a still, small voice. Not out loud, but down deep in my heart. Telling me, “pray for them.”
It was like God flipped a light switch. Suddenly the same family, the one that I was picking apart for my own entertainment? I could see them for who they really were – deeply messed up and, at the same moment, God’s beloved children.
Before I knew it, I was praying for the mother and daughter. Taking that same list of everything that I had been picking apart, and using it instead to plead their case in detail.
Telling God about the depth of their problems. Begging God to come into their lives, right in the heart of the things that were turning into a wedge between them.
I ended my prayer, stalled there at the altar, with something that that God put in my heart. Something that hadn’t been there until God showed me who they really are. A prayer for them, “Lord help me to be part of their solution.”
I’m kind of embarrassed to admit it. But it’s too good to keep to myself.
Whenever you find yourself focused on what’s wrong with someone else, pouring over their problems, their flaws, their mistakes. The moment you catch yourself doing it?
Don’t stop doing it. Just flip the script. And take their problems to God in prayer.
Start praying for them right then. Add them to your Mass intentions. Go from being their critic to being the behind the scenes ally they need.
Become part of their solution.
You are God’s beloved. And so are they.
Live like who you are. By praying for them like who they are.
The preborn child is just as much a human being as you or any other are a member of the species homo sapiens, despite differences in age, development, location, ability, or otherwise. What gives us our inherent value and rights is our humanity- and all preborn humans share in that equally, too. So we must work to bring an end to abortion and, in solidarity, accompany parents experiencing unexpected or difficult pregnancies.
From Rehumanize: A Vision to Secure Human Rights for All by Aimee Murphy
To anyone else, it wasn’t much. A lumbering landbarge. With too many miles. And not much else. Old enough to drive itself.
But it was new to me. And I was grateful to have it.
Looking back at the cars I’ve had since then, all of them were better than my first one. A lot better.
The funny thing is, I wasn’t nearly as appreciative of those cars. Even though they were so much better.
The “new” of having a car had worn off. I had gotten used to having one. And wasn’t really thinking about it.
Cars that were objectively better in every way? For me, they were – car, type “meh.”
This is the danger of familiarity. It’s a risk for all of us. And not just with cars.
Whenever we’re around something a lot. Or someone. Whenever we get comfortable.
There’s danger that we will start seeing them as part of the furniture. Part of the background. Not as what they really are.
We are capable of doing this to anyone. No matter how close they are to us. Even to God.
When we do it to a car, sure we lose out on the joy of driving it. But when we do it to another person? We don’t just lose out on the joy of our relationship with that person. If we keep at it, eventually we’ll lose that relationship.
But know this – nothing is made for the background. There is nothing in life that has to be part of the furniture. You and I get to choose. You and I can choose to make it new again.
Today, look at the relationships in your life.
Be honest. Have some of them slipped into the background?
Are there ones that used to be a priority? But now they’re more like “meh?”
It’s sad. Especially when you think how it used to be.
The thing is, it doesn’t have to be that way. You get to choose.
Today, it’s time to pull them out of the background. Time to reconnect. Time to make it new again.
Starting with the relationship that matters most. The one that supports everything else. The one that supports you.
Patronage: Against rheumatism, snake bites, mothers, awkward children, the sick, Vervio, Italy, LaRochelle, France
Saint Hilary was born into a wealthy, pagan family, and educated in philosophy and rhetoric. He believed people should rise above their desires and live a life of virtue. This leads him to search for truth, where he “read” himself into the faith through the Gospels. There he found the confirmation of the one true God and our purpose of life, eternity. He was elected Bishop after his conversion, only soon to be exiled by the Arians. This gave him time to research and write on the Trinity and the nature of God, refuting the Arian Heresy. He was the first to compose hymns based on Scripture.
Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase. (website)
