Green Pastures and Still Waters

Childhood memories. According to psychologists, most of us begin to form long-term memories around age five or six. Perhaps this is a gift that keeps us from remembering all of our mishaps, blunders, and struggles as infants and toddlers. However, I come from a large family that is a bit spread out in age. My siblings are between 10 and 15 years older than me, and therefore they remember my early childhood with great clarity! Both a blessing and a curse. One story they love to share is that of my red sweatshirt. According to them, I loved this plain, red sweatshirt. I delighted in having it zipped up, the hood on, and my hands in the pockets. For reasons that escape my middle-aged brain, I thought running with my hands in my pockets was a good idea. Do you see where this is going? Inevitably my awkward, uncoordinated body would end up tumbling to the ground, and because my hands were in my pockets, they were not available to brace my fall. Ouch! As I reflect on my adulthood, I realize I continued to live my life with my hands in my pockets, with nothing to catch me when I fell. 

I lived each day as if it all depended on me. My successes and failures were because of my study skills, my efforts, my parenting skills. So, when I failed, it was all my fault. Even when there was a victory, I only focused on what I could have done better. At times I could quickly pop up, rework the action plan, and try again. More often, the scrapes and bruises were deeper; and it seemed better to abandon the goal and change course. Each time I left behind a dream or goal, the feelings of personal failure and unworthiness mounted. My head received the “not enough” messages loud and clear and boldly announced them each time I considered trying again. I was living in a false state – thinking I was in control. I was running around with my hands in my pockets, not openly receiving the love, guidance, and strength that Christ was offering me. Honestly, I was oblivious to the gifts He was offering. I had no idea what I was missing out on by rejecting Jesus’s love. I had become self-reliant, frustrated, and anxious, and yet I was unable to change course. Then one day, I admitted to a friend I could no longer live this way. That is all Jesus needed, a small crack in my armor to enter into my heart.

What’s changed? I still work hard, study hard, and live my vocation to its fullest, but now I know to align my efforts with God’s plan.  I seek His will through prayer and silence, and then I try to surrender and let go of my plan. It requires I trust Him to provide. At times, this act of surrender and trust can be a struggle for me. Will He provide what I need? A glance back at my journey answers that question with a resounding YES! In my times of need, He supplied the friend, the nurse, the teacher, the patience, the strength, or the grace I needed to get through the valley. Join m and take the time to count the ways God has provided for you. Go ahead, write them down, then give Him your praise and gratitude. 

Are there times I still do not understand what He is asking of me, taking too long to answer my prayers, or seemingly leaving them unanswered? Absolutely! These times are difficult and can cause me to doubt His love for me. However, if I take a quick inventory of all the times I have questioned His wisdom, I realize the blessings poured forth from those challenges and trials. Perhaps a better way to look at these situations is – prayers answered by a Father who knows best. Can you see God’s wisdom in circumstances where you once only saw chaos? What “unanswered” prayers can you now move to the “God knew best” column?

Often, we are told not to look back, only to move forward. However, taking these glances back to remember and acknowledge the good that God works in our lives can help us move forward with confidence that He will continue to be a loving Father in the future. For example, what about those times I have tripped or fallen? Yup, Christ has been there to catch me, to give me His unconditional love, and to grant me a moment of mercy. One more time, make a list. When did He reach down and help you brush the dirt off your knees and hands and encourage you to begin again?

You see, what is changing is me. I can more clearly see that Jesus has always been there for me and always will be. I am aware that I am not alone or in control. For the first time, I am receiving Him and His love.

God has an unlimited supply of love and gifts to bestow upon each of us. He desires to provide for us, His beloved sons and daughters. However, we cannot receive these gifts if we have our hands in our pockets, our hearts closed, or are tightly gripping to the illusion of control. As you sit down this morning to spend time in prayer, rest your hands on your lap, open, facing Heavenward. Imagine today is your birthday, and your Heavenly Father is eagerly waiting to give you His gift. See the anticipation and love on His face as He lays it into your open palms. It is the perfect gift, just what your heart truly longs to receive. As you fumble to find the words of gratitude for this perfect gift, might I recommend you gently say, “I love you too, Dad.”

Perhaps you can identify with this problem. The annoyance of waking up before your alarm goes off. As I stare at the ceiling, I wonder why I bother with the alarm. My frustration is not with the early rising, but that my mind is already in motion. My thoughts begin to churn over my to-do list, I start rehash a conversation with a friend, or angst begins over an upcoming project. My mind is off to the races. I am busy, and my feet have not even touched the floor! This state of mental busyness typically sticks with me the whole day, feeding the next early waking and the one after that, and well, you get the picture. It is a self-perpetuating cycle that works its way into my spiritual life as it begins to fill my prayer time with the same feelings of worry, angst, and busyness. My default solution to solve this problem? Physical busyness.

The more miles I can run, the more projects I can work on, the more cleaning, the more going, the more doing equals less thinking time. Physical activity also provides an excellent outlet for the pent-up anxiety caused by stirring thoughts. This approach does have some benefits. There are health boosts and a clean house. Additionally, I have received beautiful moments of clarity while out for a run, and somehow scrubbing floors can help put my worries into perspective. There is comfort in the rhythm of the repetitive action of exercising or cleaning. In the cadence, my mind can rest. The problem lies in the more. I allow all the movement to hinder my ability to listen for God to speak into my heart. My mental fatigue, compounded by physical tiredness, prevents me from giving my attention to God and my spiritual life. There has to be a better option, and fortunately, God provides the answer.

Despite my best efforts to keep busy, God still finds a way to speak to me. One morning during prayer, He placed these beautiful words from Exodus (14:14) in my heart, “The Lord himself will fight for you; you have only to keep still.” Stillness. Up to this point, I felt like I was pretty good at being still. I love the quiet and stillness of Mass and Eucharistic Adoration. Yet, God persisted. Later, His call to stillness spoke through Isiah (301:15b), “By waiting and by calm, you shall be saved, in quiet and in trust your strength lies.” It became clear that God was calling me to spend time exploring the concept of stillness with Him. What did He reveal? I am excellent at being still, mentally, physically, and spiritually when I am in His presence, but I fail to bring that stillness with me when I leave the Adoration Chapel or Mass. When out in the world, I let the stirring, the fear, and the worry kick my mind, body, and spirit into overdrive. Jesus had an invitation for me to deepen my relationship with Him. A call to remember I am always in His presence. 

For many, the easiest way to remember we are always in the presence of God is to pray. St. Paul writes in his first letter to the Thessalonians (5:16-17), “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing.” This passage provided excellent counsel, and I was ready to answer the call. My mind instantly began making a prayer schedule. I filled my day with beautiful and meaningful prayers. This commitment to prayer is noble and good, but I began to question: does the “doing” accomplish what Jesus was asking of me? I turned a call to be with Him into a to-do list! Sometimes in our efforts to solve a problem, we can complicate the situation by overplanning and adding intricate steps. I certainly outdid myself in this instance. Jesus did not ask me to manage our relationship but to be present to Him. It was time for me to take a moment and breathe.

Breathing. According to The Lung Association, the average human being takes in 22,000 breaths a day. What if we tied prayer and being in His presence to our breath? In those occasions of fear, worry, gratitude, or joy – stop, take a breath, and invite Him to be a part of the experience. By connecting our breath and prayer, we can breathe Him into our souls. We can welcome in the calm, stillness, and love that only Christ can provide. We can share our life with Him. It is an opportunity to answer the call to deepen our relationship with Jesus. Willing to give it a try? Sit with me and listen to the song Breathe by Hillsong Worship. Take the time to be still, to be in His presence – mentally, physically, spiritually. In the stillness, God provides truth, perspective, and clarity without exhaustion. When I take the opportunity to be in His presence in this manner, my eyes gently close; I can shut out the noise of the world and more fully answer His call for intimacy. 

Healthline states the average human being blinks 14,400-19,200 times per day. In those instances of restlessness, what if we closed our eyes, just a millisecond longer than it takes to blink, and asked Jesus to remind us who we are to Him? To let Him speak the truth. To remind us that we belong to Him. We are His beloved daughters and sons, chosen, forgiven, and precious. Close your eyes and breathe. 

The beauty of this approach to praying is it can be done anywhere – without ceasing. At work, washing dishes, stuck in traffic, or out for a walk. The few seconds it takes to breathe and close our eyes, we can quickly be in Jesus’ presence. In these simple, natural, and rhythmic actions – He is present in your heart. When I make this quiet, humble connection with Christ, a smile spreads across my lips; stillness sweeps over my mind. In His presence, a brief glimpse of Heaven bursts into my soul. He is with me, and more importantly, I am with Him. In the hush of those early morning risings and throughout my day, I will trust that Jesus is there waiting for me. He is eagerly awaiting my acceptance of His invitation to be with Him. May my response always be yes. Will you accept the invitation?

Knock-knock jokes. They are numerous, and I love it when a child delights in telling me one. Recently, one of them has been playing on a loop in my head, kind of like when a song becomes an earworm. The Interrupting Cow. I apologize if it gets stuck in your head – or maybe not – I will get to that later. Just in case you are unfamiliar with the joke, here is an enthusiastic version of it: Interrupting Cow Joke, remember I warned you. If we look at our day-to-day lives, how many times does the interrupting cow make an appearance? For instance, a vacation taken off course by a flat tire, a date night kiboshed by a sick child, a last-minute call from work needing you to stay late, the umpteenth request for help from your kiddo while you’re making dinner. All of these situations, and more, can bring the best of us to a level of frustration and anxiety that allows the interrupting cow to ruin the day.

I am a big fan of to-do lists, schedules, and structure. I freely admit I am intolerant of interruptions and last-minute changes to my day, and yet, as a wife and mother, my day is full of interruptions. Add in text messages, phone calls, email requests, unscheduled visits, and I start to spiral! I begin to plate-spin, trying to stick to my schedule and striving to accomplish more. I fall prey to letting what I “do” define me, and I lose track of the fact that those “interruptions” are people I love and worthy of my time and attention. Around the time the Knock-Knock Joke started bugging me, I noticed how often my day was not going according to my plan. More noticeable was the way I was responding to these hiccups. I was feeling tired, angry, unproductive, and anxious about all the unfinished projects piling up.

Coincidently, my prayer was experiencing much of the same. My ability to rest in Jesus, receive His goodness, and surrender to His will was at battle with the distractions of my to-do list, worries and fears, and stirrings of not doing enough. If I am honest, I was welcoming the distractions, inviting them in, because they kept me from taking a good look at myself through His eyes. These types of intrusions are the true interrupting cow, and that is how I began to deal with them. When a to-do list item interrupts, I say, “Yup, that is important, but not now.” If panic about getting it all done finds its way into the moment, I turn my heart back to His love and ask Him to help me find a way. Finally, when the loudest one of all, “I am not doing enough,” budges its way in, I ask Jesus to help me to be with Him and know it He who defines me. Addressing these roadblocks has helped me return my focus to Him and has allowed Jesus to open my heart to the act of surrendering control. Are there distractions in your heart that are getting in Jesus’s way?

As I cleared the distractions, I could see the changes that He was calling me to make. First and foremost, I needed to start including Him in my plans. I had to begin with seeking His help in identifying what matters most and matters least when scheduling my day. Next, I needed to focus less on doing and more on being. Being present to my boys, my husband, my friends, and all those other lovely people God places in my life. It is an opportunity for me to surrender my plans to His wisdom. To began trusting that I would accomplish all that needed to happen and being aware it would not be at the cost of missing the opportunity to be with Him and those He places in my day. In a recent email from Blessed is She, the author mentioned the words Jesus spoke before his Passion, “Rise, let us be on our way” (John 14:31). Jesus’s words stirred a deep sense of release and a desire to walk with Him. These days I choose to end my prayer time with His words. Confident that He is with me, and He will lead the way.

This approach has provided me greater freedom to enjoy an extended conversation with a friend or stranger. It has allowed me to find the beauty in an entire day turned upside down by an unexpected road trip for our family business. I am also more readily able to recognize the opportunities for growth and potential gifts each interruption to my day will hold. Earlier this year, I read a quote by Pope Saint John Paul II that, at the time, set my mind spinning. During his papacy, a reporter asked him, “Holy Father, what do you do in your free time?” He replied, “All my time is free.” How is that possible? He was the head of the Catholic Church; how could all of his time be free? Slowly and gently (and sometimes in funny ways), the Lord is showing me how to find this freedom. More and more of my time is free because I am putting Him at the center, letting Him take the lead, and surrendering my control. This process has been far from perfect, I still get tripped up by frustration and anger, but I’m getting better at recognizing it and making adjustments. What can you surrender to experience more freedom?

Now, back to my half-hearted apology. I hope that when you hear the “MOO” in the form of an unexpected knock at the door, the unplanned detour in your journey, or your child has asked for your help for the hundredth time, you will remember that it may be Jesus knocking, correcting your path, or asking you for help. Perhaps like me, you will chuckle thinking of the cow at the door; and decide to trust His plan and surrender your control. More importantly, I pray you will answer His call, rise, and together, be on your way.

Spring has arrived! My windows are open, the lilacs are blooming, and the sun is warm on my face. As the yard comes to life, memories of watching the twin fawns race carefree through the neighborhood and the return of the sweet song of the orioles flood my mind. It is also time to turn the garden soil, pull the weeds, and sow my new seeds and plants. My Adoration partner joyously celebrates my love of gardening. A few weeks ago, her parting words were, “Linda, I suppose you have spent some time working in your yard and garden. Wonderful. Just don’t let the weeds – if they happen to appear – scare you!” Typically, I would have chuckled at her comment and moved on with my day. However, earlier in the week, the concept of weeds had come up during my morning prayer time. Her words struck a deeper chord in my heart.

Weeds. Those of us with yards, vegetable gardens, or flowerbeds know the hassle these unwanted guests create in our space. Often, they require special tools. Burning Nettle or Thistles? You better grab gloves. Crab Grass? Bring the garden claw and loads of patience. Dandelions? Fetch that handy taproot pulling tool. Why all the tools? Because if we do not pull them out by their roots, they will come back stronger and sometimes spread! Even with our best physical efforts to rid our landscape of these freeloaders, we can be unsuccessful and need to call in the big guns – weed killer.

Exponentially more problematic than the weeds in our yards are those in our hearts. These weeds are equally as fast-growing, deeply rooted, and can quickly overtake the beautiful landscape of our soul. Resentment, anger, impatience, greed, coarse language, gossip, judgment, criticism, the use of alcohol to numb, and pride are prime examples of weeds that can invade our interior garden. These offenses can quickly hide the person God created us to be, damage our relationship with Him, and hurt those we love. We should not ignore them. In the past, I have admitted my struggles with many of these issues. God has provided His grace through the “tools” of friendship, prayer, and frequent reception of the Sacraments of Holy Communion and Reconciliation to help me make headway. However, some of the weeds in our souls are products of our experiences or past relationships.

One such weed is what God addressed during prayer – a deeply rooted weed. The Voice of Shame that still calls me out. The lies it tries to sow in the precious space of my soul always take on some version of, “Who do you think you are?” Or, another favorite, “You will never be good enough.” It is an equal opportunity liar attacking my parenting, my ability to contribute meaningfully to projects, my goodness, my worth, my vocation as a wife; the list is endless. This particular invasion requires a powerful tool to eradicate it. Truth.

Truth. It is a bit tricky for me to discern. The Voice of Shame sounds a lot like truth because it starts there, but then the lies run wild, twisting themselves around the truth, choking it out. Even worse, if you have been listening to it for a long time, it can become your truth. My past attempts to refute the lies told by this insidious voice have fallen short. I am not very good at thinking on my feet. By the time I have figured out a response, it has already moved on to a different front of attack. I am blessed to have friends and family who speak to my goodness and the ability to find truth in Sacred Scripture. As beautiful and powerful as these gifts are to me, they sometimes cannot rip the weed of lies out of my heart. Why not? Fear.

I have feared this weed. My repeated failures to win at the war of words have made me skeptical that I can beat it at its game. Its relentless nature has me doubting if I can outrun it. At times, its sneaky methods have me fearful it is the voice of truth. I have spent the better part of a year finding the source of the voice that has sown these seeds of fear, self-doubt, and shame. Its roots are deep, and digging around them has been both painful and enlightening. However, the time has come to rip it out. The Voice of Shame has taken enough of my heart, enough of my peace, and enough of my identity. Enough!

To do this, I need to claim the truth, use my voice to speak the truth, and live the truth. Christ has already spoken these truths to me; He is the one who defines me. These are the truths I must speak to the lies:

These are my truths. They are your truths as well. Can you speak them, claim them, and live them? I can hear you already, “Yeah, but if you only knew…” That, my friend, is the Voice of Shame. We all have past mistakes, current struggles with various vices, and are guaranteed to experience failure in the future, but those moments do not define us. They are weeds, and we have the tools to deal with them.

Join me this spring, and do not fear the weeds. Take the time to dig around them, get to the root, and pull them out. It is a journey worth embarking on because there is beauty waiting to be shared – you! You and your relationships are worth the effort. The beautiful garden of your soul is worth the time. Do not let the Voice of Shame or any other lie hold you back from the freedom that awaits you. Spring is the season of new life and beginnings. Perhaps this spring, He plans new life for you.

Storms. Some big ones have been raging in our world for well over a year. Covid, politics, and racial unrest fill our news headlines day after day and sometimes minute by minute. Also, some equally powerful storms rocking our homes – financial burdens, physical and mental health issues, loss of a loved one, job changes – the list is endless. I have never used this blog to discuss current events, and that is not changing. However, I know these issues weigh heavy on all of our hearts, and they reveal an opportunity to grow our relationship with Jesus and grow as His disciples.

These storms are full of noise, flashing lights, and blowing winds – all of which cause a lot of confusion. Loved ones with differing opinions, news stations bickering, and politicians slinging blame are not helping us find our way. Instead, they are all a big distraction. They trick us into thinking we have some control over these storms, that our confusion will resolve if we just read one more article or listen to one more podcast on the issue. I can’t recall a time I have felt more confused and unsettled about issues in the news. In almost every conversation, you will hear these same undertones of fear, confusion, anger, and loneliness. The sense that we are tossed around in the storm, alone and without direction.

If we remember, Jesus’ disciples experienced much of these same feelings as they were tossed around in the storm. They were panicked as Jesus slept in the stern of the boat (Mark 4:35-41). Rembrandt depicts this scene beautifully in his piece Storm on the Sea of Galilee. In the painting, we see the disciples dealing with the storm in different ways. Recently I was asked with which disciple I most identify. It was easy; I am the one who looks to be heaving over the side of the boat. My choice is partly due to my propensity to motion sickness but more so related to how easily I get distracted by the storm and lose my focus. How I long to be the disciple that quietly kneels and prays at the feet of Jesus – trusting Him to provide. 

Yet as the storm rages, we can be left wondering who is speaking the truth, who do we trust? As I have wrestled with these storms and the discourse they have caused in my own heart, the phrase, “What would Jesus do?” popped in my head. WWJD has always seemed a little cliche to me, and Jesus is so much more than a cliche. However, there is some goodness to this question because He would bring His peace and love to the situation. He would speak, “Peace! Be still!” Then, as He routinely does, He would start asking questions. I can hear Him ask, “Linda, what are you going to do during the storm?”

First and foremost, I am going to turn to Jesus. I am going to focus my eyes on His. I am going to remember He is THE truth, THE way, and THE life. He is not simply another option, but THE only option. I am going to be that disciple, kneeling at His feet, seeking His guidance. 

Second, let’s be honest. I am confident I will not be receiving a call to write speeches for the president, serve on a Covid advisory board, or influence policymakers. These issues are outside of my control, and I need to surrender them over to Jesus. I will continue to pray for a speedy and peaceful outcome to these issues and do my part to help. 

Most importantly, I need to ask Jesus what I can do? How can I be a better disciple? He reminds me that I can love those He places in my life. They include but are not limited to; my spouse, my boys, my friends, the stranger at the store, the pokey driver in front of me, and the lonely shut-in on my weekly call list. I can be fully present to my faith sharing group; I can accompany a friend on a journey, I can reserve judgment and not criticize, I can give whatever He asks me to offer. St. Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa) championed this idea when she spoke, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” You can love those you encounter by looking them in the eye, actively listening to the words they speak, and acknowledging their fear, their anger, their confusion, their joy, their hope, or whatever emotion is stirring in them. I can ask Jesus the following:

Who can I pour Your love into today, Lord?

What is the truth You want me to speak today?

Where do You need me to be Your hands and feet?

When, Lord, do you want me to act?

How can I use the gifts and talents You have given me to make a difference today?

You can ask Him these same questions during your prayer time. Is prayer not part of your day? I encourage you to start; give Him 15 minutes of your day. Surrender your worries and ask Him where you can make a difference. One word of advice, pick just one question. I’m notorious for firing off LOTS of questions to Jesus during prayer. I tend to hear His answer much clearer if I stick to just one question and give Him time to answer. 

Asking these questions will open your heart to the heart of Jesus. He will fill you with the Holy Spirit, strengthen you with the grace you will need to do all that He asks, and assure you that He will lead the way. The storms are going to keep coming, they are going to keep trying to distract us from Jesus, and they will do their best to keep us adrift. We can choose to be sick over the side of the boat and survive the storm, or we can choose to turn our eyes back to His, do our part, and thrive. Which choice will you make? Which question will you ask Him today?

Garages. Some are attached, and others are set a distance from the house. Some are single-car, and yet others have three stalls. My garage is typically a disaster! It becomes the place where sporting equipment airs out, the yard and garden tools lay in a pile, and random hunting paraphernalia dries out and waits for the next outing. Oh, and yes, it shelters one car. Honestly, it drives me crazy! I can’t keep it clean, and I am grateful I can shut the door on it! Out of sight, out of mind. I’ve assumed this is how everyone’s garage functioned, but I learned that is not the case. I am slightly jealous of those people who can host a graduation party out of their garage or foster a hobby. And yet, others accomplish even more out of their garage.

We are familiar with the famed story of how Apple Inc. had its humble beginnings in the garage. Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak transformed the world with their ingenuity and drive. I am sure numerous businesses have started in much of the same way, and like Apple, have enjoyed enormous financial success. All of us might be willing to clean out our garages if becoming a billionaire was in our future, but would we clean it out to love our neighbors that are less fortunate than us?

In the past year, I have discovered two organizations that found their beginnings in a garage. You will not find either of these organizations on the S&P 500, nor will they make headlines with their next fancy invention. Some might describe their work as community-minded, good citizenship, or social justice, and they would all be correct. However, St. Paul may describe this as “faith working through love” Galatians 5:6. What each of these organizations does is make the world a better place by loving their neighbor.

The North American Squirrel Association (n.a.s.a.) made space in a garage to serve disabled members of their community. Veterans, cancer patients, those affected by autism, and the elderly are just a few of our brothers and sisters that this organization serves. They make it possible for those with limitations to enjoy hiking, skiing, hunting, fishing, water skiing, and biking. They make it possible for everyone to experience the beauty of God’s creation. On a recent hike with a volunteer, I asked him why he spent so much time volunteering. As he gently touched his heart, he said, “Love, I do it out of love.”

Another group that started making a difference out of a garage is theExchange. Their slogan, “furnishing homes with a little help from our friends,” clearly sums up their mission in helping those who are transitioning to stable housing from poverty, abuse, or homelessness. What started with four women, a garage, and a truck has transformed into a stand-alone building, dozens of volunteers, a board of directors, and has furnished over 1,000 family homes. Again, an act of loving and caring for our brothers and sisters in need. When asked why, “to do worthwhile work” was the answer. These organizations didn’t just make space in their garages; they carved out space in their hearts for those in need. 

As humble as the beginnings were for these organizations, there is one who had an even more humble beginning – Jesus. We all know there was no room in the inn for him and his family, so in a manger is where he gets his start. This space was crowded with animals, probably quite messy and a bit smelly. He comes anyway. He comes as love itself. He comes to heal us and to save us. 

When I consider the work my garage would need to free up the space for these sorts of endeavors, I feel overwhelmed, but more important than my garage is my heart. For Jesus to do His work, we have to make space in our hearts. He needs a pathway to enter. Casting Crowns asks us just that question with this beautiful song, Make Room. This Advent, I need to clean up a bit so I can let my faith work through love. What needs to go? My clutter includes pride, fear, doubt, and despair. I want to rid my heart of them and have Jesus replace them with humility, peace, trust, and hope. In love, I want to see the good and do good. I want to bring glory to God through all of my work. 

How do we make room for Jesus? How do we get rid of the “stuff” that takes up the space in our hearts that Jesus wants? By placing Him first. Again, for me, it is taking the time to encounter Him in silent prayer, participating in Mass with my faith community, and seeking His mercy in the sacrament of reconciliation. Maybe find an organization that is loving those less fortunate and offer, out of charity, your time, talent, or treasure. If you are taking the first steps to making room, start slow. He only needs a tiny crack to bring His light and love to you this Advent season. 

This Advent, may you make room in your heart.

Accompaniment. A word that is not only a mouth full to say, but quite challenging to define. In my attempt to capture what it means to accompany another, I’ve been journeying backward through my life’s experiences to identify my first memory of someone accompanying me. Strangely, it was 23 years ago, exactly half my lifetime. My best friend since kindergarten died unexpectedly, and my dad attended her funeral with me. I will never forget the moment he reached over to hold my hand during Mass and how he physically supported me during her graveside service. Looking back, he too was hurting over her death, but found the strength to be vulnerable, to step out of his comfort zone, and to accompany me. Those moments changed our relationship. We had always been close, but on that day, his willingness to share a silent and profound expression of love brought us closer. It allowed us to be more willing to say I love you and share a hug.

As with my dad, many times, we are called to accompany as a result of our vocation. On my wedding day, I vowed to be my husband’s companion in good times and in bad, and in sickness and health. On that day, I’m not sure I completely understood how living those vows would look, but today it is much clearer. Together, we have celebrated the birth of our boys, struggled through those early years of parenting, and grieved the loss of parents and friends. Currently, we are surviving teenagers, navigating the journey to becoming empty nesters, and learning at every turn what it means to accompany one another. As a mother, I am a companion to our sons. Guiding, teaching, correcting, and loving them. As they mature, I am learning that they are on their path, and I am only there to provide light and love. I can’t protect them from the pain of disappointment, the academic struggles, or the hurt of broken relationships; because if I do, they won’t experience the joy of seeing how their hard work pays off, the excitement of meeting new friends, and the lessons learned from their mistakes. As a wife and mother, I’m in it for the long haul, a lifetime of accompaniment.

Others choose professions that allow them to spend their lifetime accompanying others, but for shorter periods. Nurses, teachers, and therapists come to mind as people who come in and out of our life, but walk with us when we are most in need. I smile as I think of the dedicated teachers that have touched the lives of our boys. These men and women didn’t just teach them to read, write, and master long division; they dried tears, bandaged knees, listened to their stories, helped us teach them to pray, and so much more. They stood alongside each of them for one year and then let them go so they could grow.

Regardless of our vocation or occupation, we are all given opportunities to accompany others and to allow others to journey with us. God never intended us to walk this earth alone. When Jesus sent his disciples out into the world to preach the good news, “He summoned the Twelve and began to send them out two by two…” (Mark 6:7). We are to be in relationships with one another and with Him. My companions include a devoted spouse, six supportive siblings and their families, and a beautiful bouquet of friends that have loved me through my life’s journey. The hard part for me is to set aside my pride and accept their help and love. To let them help carry the burdens and celebrate the joyful moments. It is also important to remember that God not only gives us one another but promises that He will always be with us, “And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20). He also provides us with the Holy Spirit, “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth…” (John 14:16-17). By cultivating our relationship with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we never walk alone. Who has God put in your life to walk with you? Have you let a streak of independence prevent those who love you to provide support? Has your pride prevented you from seeking God’s companionship?

So, the question remains, what is accompaniment? In my heart, it is the conscious choice to walk with others in love. To weather the storm or stand in the fire. To offer words of encouragement, to sit in silence and listen, to hold the space while they shed their tears of joy, sadness, or fear. Rarely do we need anyone to solve our problems or take our journey for us, but we desperately need to know we are not alone. At times, it is hard to find the patience, love, and strength to accompany those we love during the difficult times of their lives. Where do we find these virtues? Take a few moments to close your eyes and stand at the foot of the Cross with Mary Magdelene. Reflect on how she journeyed with Christ during his ministry. Recall how she stood by him through His passion and death. Recognize the depth of their friendship. She found her strength, her patience, and her love in Jesus, and so can we. He is the source of these gifts. Whether the walk is long and arduous or short and fun, let God and others accompany you. Let them share Christ’s love, patience, and strength with you. Who will you let accompany you? Who needs you to walk with them in love?