Lectio
“No one can attain beatitude unless he rises above himself, not in body but in heart. Yet we cannot rise above ourselves unless a superior power lifts us up. No matter how well we plan our spiritual progress, nothing comes of it unless divine assistance intervenes. And divine assistance is there for those who seek it humbly and devoutly, who sigh for it in this vale of tears by fervent prayer.”
— St. Bonaventure, The Soul’s Journey into God
Meditatio
As I sat on I-495, the DC Beltway, in the rain, exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated after a seven-hour drive, made worse by a sciatica flare-up from an old injury, I began to wonder, “Will this be where I have my first anxiety attack in years?” All of the circumstances were just right — or wrong — and I started to worry about what it would be like, what I would do, how far it would set me back, and how bad I would feel about myself if it were to happen.
Just then, my wife asked how I was doing, if “it” was happening, and if I needed to talk. I told her I was frustrated by the situation — the traffic in particular — but I knew we couldn’t change it, and we just had to ride it out. We’d get where we were going, eventually. She suggested that I turn off the melancholy music, so I put on a podcast about Saint Bonaventure, a Franciscan about whom I’ve been curious for a while.
As all of this was happening, the thought came to me like the still small voice of God: “You keep praying and hoping to go back to being who you once were — to travel like you once did — but that person was fueled by fear, anger, and caffeine. You are being transformed into someone new who must be fueled by faith, hope, and love.” This I immediately understood to mean, if not in thought, in feeling, that God will not transform me into who I was before coming into relationship with him. That person was running away from his life and himself, and his anxiety attacks started when he could no longer run. My prayers are being answered in that I am not able to go back to being that person, that he died and was buried with Christ in baptism, and that he has been reborn as someone new. God isn’t going to take me backward. He descends to take me forward and upward with him. He does not allow me to be who I once was because his desire is that I become who he made me to be. I can’t be who I was before I started having anxiety attacks and I cannot travel like I used to — that person is gone, and the fuel he ran on has run out. The person I am becoming travels differently, by grace — driven by a new purpose and running on a new fuel — which is faith, hope, and love — and he is neither running away, nor is he alone. He is present for whatever is happening — even if he doesn’t like it — and he is in the presence of the Presence that is never not here.
Eventually, the traffic cleared up and we made it to the restaurant where we met my mom for lunch — a last-minute surprise for her and us — and the sun came out. They had Korean BBQ, and I got a bowl of much-needed doenjang-jjigae (a spicy stew with beef, vegetables, tofu, and fermented soybean paste) to soothe my soul. The incident on I-495 felt like a lifetime ago, even if not an hour before, I was confronted with the depths of my fears and the realization that the person with those fears is a ghost, a shadow of who I now am. But this is how grace seems to work. Years’ worth of therapy, spiritual formation, and many, many hours in prayer, coupled with lots of struggles and setbacks, all culminating in a single moment of colliding worlds — one of fear and the other of faith — demanding that we choose whether to cling to what was in suffering or let ourselves become what will be in love. And I choose love. Lord, help me to choose love.
Oratio
Take me back, God
to who I once was
to where I once belonged
before the pain
the fear
the brokenness
before the betrayal
the trauma
the torment
take me back
to innocence
to hope
to possibility
take away these scars
these ghosts
these memories
take me back, God
take me back to before
But I cannot, my child
I cannot
this is your cross
this is your path
this is your way home
through the darkness
through the emptiness
through the pain
love awaits you
new life awaits you
wounds and all
Contemplatio
What might God be saying to you through the thing you most wish had never happened?
Related Scripture
“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new.” — 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Love Remains: Returning Home to the Love That Never Left You, which explores how God’s love waits patiently for us even when we have wandered far — and what it means to return not to who we were, but to the Love that never left.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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