6 Questions My Spiritual Director Would Ask
I’ve mentioned a few times that I had an amazing spiritual director named Christie. Unfortunately, she’s gotten busy with other commitments and I haven’t been able to meet with her lately, so I’ve been without a spiritual director for a while now. I hope to find a new person soon, but in the meantime I’ve been thinking back on my conversations with her, particularly when I’m trying to discern the right path for some big decision where there’s no clear right answer. When recalling our meetings, I realized that Christie almost always asked me the same few questions, and that prayerfully considering my answers to each one always helped get me off the fence and make a good choice. I thought it might be helpful to others to share what they were.
1. Have you prayed about it?
You would think that this question wouldn’t be necessary, but, alas, we’re dealing with me here, and Christie quickly learned that we might want to cover this base before moving on. With embarrassing frequency I’d come to her and pour out my angst about some conundrum, throw up my hands in frustration, and announce that God did not seem to be helping me here. Then she’d gently asked if I had prayed about it; specifically, if I had set aside the time not only to place my petition before God, but to calmly wait and listen for an answer. The answer was often “no,” which gave me an obvious place to start in my discernment process.
2. How does it impact your primary vocation?
I can’t overstate the importance of this question. It’s brought more peace to my life than any other thought exercise. The Catholic idea of vocation is that the meaning of life is to serve others, and your vocation (e.g. married life, religious life, priesthood, etc.) is the main way that God intends for you to serve. It’s his primary path for you to find peace and fulfillment — and, therefore, no legitimate call from God would negatively impact your vocation. For example, God would never call a parish priest to do something that made him feel burdened and resentful of offering the Mass on Sunday, he would never call a father to something that made him feel tied down and frustrated by his wife and kids, etc. It doesn’t mean that the only things you ever do are directly related to the duties of your vocation, simply that those duties are your top priority.
On many occasions I’ve started pursuing opportunities that seemed great in theory, but made my life as a wife and a mother harder. I would walk around the house snapping at everyone, feeling angry that I didn’t have as much time as I wanted to work on these projects, bemoaning the basic duties that come with my vocation, etc. Thanks to the advice from my spiritual director, I would take this to mean that this wasn’t where God wanted me. And, sure enough, every time I made changes that improved my ability to live out my vocation well, I’d find myself on a far better path that made me much happier (and, surprisingly, often led to more success with the project than when I was sitting around fixating on it to the exclusion of my family).
3. What does your spouse think?
Christie always reminded me that God often speaks through our spouses. I’ve experienced this many times myself but, like with #1, I’d often get so caught up analyzing something that I’d forget to sit down with my husband and get his thoughts. (For people who are not married, an alternative might be to ask your parents, siblings, or a trusted friend.)
4. Are you taking care of yourself?
One of the most interesting conversations we ever had was when I told Christie how terrible my prayer life had been lately, and her first questions were about how I was taking care of myself. Was I eating well? Sleeping enough? Getting some exercise? Upon further examination, it came out that I was running myself ragged: I was stuffing myself with junk food all day, spending too much time online, staying up way too late, never exercising, then pounding coffee to help me muddle through each day. She pointed out that while God certainly blesses us when we suffer (e.g. in the case of chronic illness), self-inflicted suffering is different. Basically, it would be like if I’d been sitting around and hitting myself repeatedly with a hammer, then crying, “I feel bad and never feel like praying! So weird!” After I improved my diet, got my relationship to the internet in check, and changed my views about exercise, not only did I feel 100% better physically, but I found that my spiritual life was much better as well.
5. Are you making decisions based on fear or anger?
The Holy Spirit does not bark at us in a voice of anger. He doesn’t instill us with fear. He doesn’t make us feel bad about ourselves. Yet too often, I found myself making decisions out of these kinds of feelings — thankfully, Christie was there to point out that this was not of God. For example, at one point I was discerning whether or not to homeschool, but so much of my thinking was fear-based: I was worried about something I’d heard about the local school, worried about how one of my kids would do in public school, but also sure that I was too lazy and incompetent to teach my children, terrified of messing up their educations, etc. I couldn’t even engage in a rational analysis of the pros and cons of each path because my thoughts were consumed with fear, fear, fear.
Christie encouraged me to let go of those feelings and make a conscious effort to trust that God would lead us down the best path for us, and that he’d bless whichever path that was. Once I did that, I was able to let go of all those fearful thoughts, which freed my mind to objectively look at what I thought would be best for our family, as well as to listen to God’s promptings. In the end we have ended up homeschooling after trying a couple other options, but this time I’ve had complete peace about it, because I was no longer letting angst and fear drive my decisions.
6. Which path would bring you the most peace?
Similar to the above, Christie would sometimes ask me to imagine myself going through each of the various options that were before me in some dilemma, and to consider which one would bring me the most peace. Fairly often, I would find that when I actually took the time to do this, one option made me feel filled with the peace of the Holy Spirit, whereas other options that might seem better on paper left me riddled with anxiety — and the peace-filled option always ended up being the right path.
Additional Resources
I usually get a lot of great questions when I bring up the subject of spiritual direction, so here are some additional resources:
- If you’d like to find a spiritual director or find out more about what spiritual direction is like, here’s a post I wrote about that.
- This spiritual direction blog is a wealth of information on discernment and the spiritual life. Definitely worth bookmarking and reading regularly.
- This post called 9 Things to Do When Needing Direction has some great tips on this topic.
No, son, the F-word actually won’t make your life better
My six-year-old son returned from Yaya‘s house on Monday to report a thrilling discovery: according to the older boys on her street, there is a really, really bad word that starts with F!
His eyes sparkled as he reported this most important of news. “They told me that there’s this horrible word, and it begins with F. I thought I knew what it was — fat – but they said that that wasn’t it. They said that this one is even worse!” He stared off into space for a moment, almost drooling at the prospect of obtaining this information, and added, “I have to find out what it is.”
He started ruminating about ways he could get the boys to divulge this information, but I interrupted him. “Just forget about it,” I said. “You can talk to the boys about other things, but I don’t want you to ask them about that one word.”
And thus began our own little Garden of Eden drama right there in the living room. The forbidden fruit had been identified by the powers-that-be, and the predictable results followed. My son immediately mistrusted my motives. The more he thought about it, the more the word seemed better and my intentions seemed worse. If he only had this knowledge, his eyes would be opened and he would gain wisdom! His life would be better! Why would his parent keep him from such goodness?
On her old blog, Simcha Fisher once wrote a post about how the knowledge that Adam and Eve gained from eating the forbidden fruit didn’t add anything to their lives. What they gained was sin, and sin always subtracts, never adds. I thought it was an interesting point, but it didn’t quite resonate with me. I was so thoroughly steeped in the worldview that all knowledge is good, that knowing more is always better, that I couldn’t quite understand the concept that some things are better left unknown.
But as I watched my son ponder this issue on Monday, I finally got it. Just like with the original forbidden fruit coveted by the world’s first son, my child was not missing out on anything by not having it, and it was out of love that I designated it forbidden. I can state unhesitatingly (and from a fair amount of personal experience) that the ability to drop an impassioned f-bomb really would not improve his life; in fact, it would make it a little worse. As I watched him sitting there, a ffffff sound escaping from his lips as he reviewed his vocabulary over and over again, it occurred to me that this is, and has always been, one of the most critical battles of the spiritual life: simply to trust our heavenly Parent when he tells us that some things we desire really won’t make our lives better.
BE DONE (Our Father, Word by Word)
Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done
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On Sunday we heard Jesus speak the words, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.”
Thy will be done, he says. And then he is abandoned, betrayed, ridiculed, tortured and nailed to a cross.
This is what always makes me a little nervous about the subject of God’s will: Though God never actively wants suffering for us, sometimes it is his will to permit it to happen. Sometimes it’s even really, really bad suffering. And so how can we ever get up the courage to say honestly, “Thy will be done”?
Dr. John Bergsma recently wrote a fascinating post called Why Must the Messiah Die? (hat tip to New Advent), where he makes the point:
Jesus cites Psalm 22 from the cross. The so-called “Cry of Dereliction,” (“My God, My God …”) is, of course actually the first line of Psalm 22.
I think Jesus’ cry from the cross is over-read theologically sometimes, as if it indicated that Jesus felt utterly separated from the Father or lost the Beatific Vision.
I do not contest that Our Lord’s sufferings were extreme, and difficult for us to comprehend, but the Cry of Dereliction is not proof that he lost the Beatific Vision or experienced radical separation from the Father.
The psalms in antiquity were almost certainly not known by their present numberings, because the numbering systems varied according to different editions of the psalter (for example, Qumran’s 1QPalmsa). The way to refer to a psalm was probably by its first line — a practice similar to the traditional Jewish naming of biblical books by their first words (also done in the Catholic tradition with Papal documents).
So when Jesus cites “My God, My God…” from the cross in today’s Gospel, he is really making a reference to all of Psalm 22, inviting the bystanders to interpret what is happening to him in light of this psalm.
With that in mind, fast forward to the end of Psalm 22. How does the Psalm end?
This is one of the more interesting ideas I’ve heard in a long time, that perhaps Christ’s cry from the cross was as if he were saying, “Psalm 22!” It encapsulates so much more than the specific moment of unfathomable suffering that the Lord was enduring. In fact, it unlocks the whole mystery of God’s will and tragedies. It makes sense of how a loving God could permit all the bad things that happen in the world, and gives us the confidence to pray without hesitation, “Thy will be done.”
So how does Psalm 22 end? On a note of triumph. It is a joyous statement of the truth that God brings good out of every evil, a reminder that there is nothing so terrible that God cannot bring good out of it; not even the murder of his beloved Son. It tells us one of the most important truths we can know: that to say “Thy will be done” is to proclaim a joyous expectation of the triumph of good.
All who sleep in the earth will bow low before God;
All who have gone down into the dust will kneel in homage.
And I will live for the LORD; my descendants will serve you.
The generation to come will be told of the Lord, that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought. (Psalm 22:30-32)
WILL (Our Father, Word by Word)
Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed Be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom Come, Thy…
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by Dorian Speed
When Jennifer first asked me to write a guest post, I was honored. And I knew just the word to choose: “Will.”
About five minutes later, the ramifications of this choice hit me hard. “WHY COULDN’T I HAVE PICKED ‘AND?’” I asked the heavens, rhetorically.
I mean — this simple word (a four-letter word, at that) encompasses so many of the essential debates within Christianity. Are we predestined for salvation? Does God cause our suffering? Why do some people receive answers to their prayers while others go apparently unheeded? If our original sin was a response to external temptation, where did Satan get the idea to rebel against God? And why do mosquitoes exist?
That kind of thing.
I decided to narrow my scope; to focus on Jennifer’s Will for This Guest Post, rather than trying to do a One-Stop Shop for Answers About God’s Will. Pretty sure Jennifer willed for me to turn this post in on time and for it to not exceed 20 bazillion words, for starters. So I’m going to neglect some of the philosophical questions about God’s Will and play a little something I like to call “The Lord’s Will: Ur Doing It Wrong.”
Well – YOU are probably doing a bang-up job of living your life in accord with God’s Will, but I’ll tell you the various ways in which I myself go astray, so that you can recognize the symptoms in your friends and family.
1. “Thy Will Be Done, and please grant me the humility to accept with grace the awesome, unlimited success, adulation, and happiness you have clearly plotted out for me over a three to five-year period, as outlined in a series of plans and action items I have mentally tabulated.”
This one’s pretty much hardwired in my brain: the constant making of plans and the expectation that all will proceed accordingly, for the greater glory of Me, I mean, God. Of course, right there in Isaiah 55, he tells us, “As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways,” but I still find myself saying, “Okay, but if I put my plan inside a really nice report cover, you’ll sign off on it, right?”
And then, when it becomes apparent that I really am not going to get everything I’ve planned for, I stomp out of the room, and go with:
2. “Clearly, Lord, you are going to do whatever you want, so I am just not even going to talk to you about what’s going on in my life, Thy Will Be Done.”
This is sort of the flip side to #1. When I’m mad that things aren’t working out according to My Plan, I take the extremely mature approach of giving the Lord the silent treatment, as it were.
I’m being flippant, but really this has been a huge struggle for me. At various points in my life, when Stuff Went Down, so to speak, I found myself at a loss for understanding why things weren’t working out for the best — at least, “the best” as I understood it. I’d think of St. Teresa of Avila, having been thrown from her horse alongside a river, telling God, “If this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so many enemies.” I fashioned myself in the same predicament.
And, of course, looking back, I can see my folly in throwing myself into the pursuit of some lofty goal, pushing aside the costs to my own children and my family life, convinced I was going to Make a Difference and Change the World. Which leads me to…
3. “Thy Will Be Done, Lord, by me as a sole proprietor, charged with the salvation of all humanity…”
Surely it all depends on me! Never mind the housekeeping, there are people out there who need me! There’s no time to lose, Lord! Help me stay strong as I solve the world’s problems! Make arrangements for the laundry!
So…I’m thinking the error here is probably evident, but I’d also like to point out that just because we may have good intentions, and be using our talents for the glory of God – it doesn’t mean that all of our efforts are always going to work out the way we envision.
When we’ve put our heart and our talents into a creative effort or an act of service, it’s tempting to feel betrayed if it doesn’t come to fruition as we had hoped. We may question whether our choices were even God’s will in the first place. Was it because we strayed from his path that we experienced failure and frustration? Hindsight may someday reveal to us how the Lord was at work, bringing good out of the situation – maybe even despite our efforts. But it can be tough to continue to trust in God when it seems like the gifts we’ve offered have gone to waste.
4. “Have fun, Lord, off doing Your Will, don’t mind me while you’re changing the fabric of the universe…”
We can feel like the tiniest speck of dust in comparison to the vastness of Creation – like God isn’t even noticing our little lives, isn’t listening to our prayers.
That gives us lots of time to fear for the future and imagine all of the possibilities that may befall us. Jesus asks us in Luke 12, “Can any of you by worrying add a moment to your life-span? If even the smallest things are beyond your control, why are you anxious about the rest?”
And he doesn’t mean that those details are left to chance, but that God is intimately involved, ever-present, in each of the “small things” in our lives. The Lord isn’t off in some remote corner of the universe or sitting with his feet propped on his desk, surveying us from afar – he is “near to all who call upon (him)” (Psalm 145:18.)
So, now that I’ve examined a small, small subset of the many ways in which I come at understanding God’s Will from all the wrong directions, I’d like to point you towards the exemplar that God Himself provided for us: His own mother.
Mary’s fiat – “Let it be done to me according to your word” – that’s what I strive for, in contemplating God’s will. Her “yes” was not just a single, grand gesture – at every moment, her soul magnified the Lord. And it was by trusting completely; submitting her everything to his will, that she proclaimed his greatness.
I approach this with tiny steps — at the Mom’s Day Away conference, Danielle Bean gave a terrific talk on approaching our day-to-day challenges with the response, “Yes, Lord! What now?” Truly, that’s the only way we can live in harmony with God’s will for our lives — not by focusing on the future and trying to pursue grace at the end of all possible rabbit trails, but by submitting ourselves to Him in the present moment. It means we have to surrender all of our plans, our fears, and our frustrations, but it’s the only way we can genuinely pray: Thy Will Be Done.
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What are your thoughts? What else can we learn from “Will”?
Dorian Speed has the joint distinction of being one of the funniest people I know, and having the coolest name in the history of the universe. She’s a writer, catechist, former classroom teacher (current homeschool teacher) and WordPress guru. Check out her WordPress guru-ness here, read her blog here, and follow her on Twitter here (but know that I have learned some near-keyboard-ruining lessons about reading her tweets while drinking something).