Time, Suffering, and the Power of Prayer

Back to the Future

I was chuckling at this meme today and it got me to thinking about time and prayer.

It reminded me of something Padre Pio once said that really challenged my concept of time.

One day, Padre Pio told his doctor, “I’m praying for the good death of my great-great grandfather.”

The doctor said, “but he died more than one hundred years ago!”

Padre Pio replied, “Remember that, for God, there is no past and no future and everything is present. So God made use, at that time, of the prayers I’m saying now.”

It is especially helpful to remember God’s omnipresence when we are suffering. One of the beautiful aspects of the Catholic faith is “redemptive suffering.” The notion that we can combine our suffering with Christ’s passion and offer it up for our own (or another’s) needs is a hopeful concept. When all seems bleak, when we are undergoing profound suffering, this concept gives added meaning and value to suffering.  Suffering is painful but it’s not useless. How beautiful is it that we can even apply our suffering to prayerful intentions for the past or the future?

It also brought to mind a recent comment by a priest that struck me by surprise, “If you find yourself with a cross, you find yourself with Jesus.”  When I think of “my crosses” or “bringing it to the cross,” I often think of the wood of the cross. However, reframing one’s own crosses in light of Christ’s presence there with us at the cross, brings awareness of the privilege of enjoying His presence during our suffering. Suffering together with Christ seems more of an honor and privilege than the lonely prospect of carrying ones’ cross alone.

And, any time things get rough, I always fall back on St. Ignatius’ hope-filled explanation of suffering: “If God causes you to suffer much, it is a sign that He has great designs for you, and that He certainly intends to make you a saint. And if you wish to become a great saint, entreat Him yourself to give you much opportunity for suffering; for there is no wood better to kindle the fire of holy love than the wood of the cross, which Christ used for His own great sacrifice of boundless charity.”

So, when hard times come, as they inevitably will, do not despair!  Make use of that suffering and “offer it up” in prayerful intentions for the past, future, or present and remember that you are not alone – Jesus is always right there with you.

“Christ’s cross, embraced with love, never leads to sadness, but to joy!” -Pope Francis

Matt Maher reminds us of God’s omnipresence in his song “You Were on the Cross”

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Gratitude Attack

autumn_leaves

Every year, as the days grow shorter and the skies grayer, I feel immense gratitude. The crisp autumn air, brilliant leaves rustling on the trees, and gusty winds bringing them swirling down to crunch underfoot – it all makes me immensely happy.

It makes me so happy that, during this season, a certain angle of the sun on the pane can literally send my heart into a gratitude attack. My heart overflows with joyful prayers of thanks for the blessings of family and friends, food, clean water, power, transportation, and shelter.

And, every year, this season draws me into a deeper love for the Creator of all of this beauty too. I see the delicate leaves, loved into existence for one short season, at their full glory, swirling down. I think of my soul, my life, all of us, just a “breath” in the span of history, so small, yet so significant because He loves each of us into existence too. As I gaze at the intricate patterns the leaves draw upon the air in their final abandon, the words of St. Ignatius come to mind, “Few souls understand what God would accomplish in them if they were to abandon themselves unreservedly to Him and if they were to allow His grace to mold them accordingly.”

And so I pray:

Dear God,

Creator of the autumn winds,

You cool the summer sun

And paint the autumn hues.

Teach me,

Like the beautiful swirling leaf,

to abandon myself ever more unreservedly to you.

Give me the grace

To allow the breath of your Spirit

To direct my path.

That my swirling journey would intersect at your will

And my landing be at your will.

And that, at every moment,

my journey might bring

greater glory to you, My God.

Amen.

In all created things discern the providence and wisdom of God, and in all things give Him thanks. St. Teresa of Avila

 

My heart your home – Watermark