Prayer

4 Years Later

Once again, January works its magic, and here we are. Writing something on this blog.

The transportive effect of reading what I wrote in the last post, 2 weeks into 2020, is hard to shake. The first paragraphs, along with the ending sentence (“Let’s start this thing!”) could be rewritten verbatim right now and fit perfectly (minus the part about having written thousands of words of a novel last year, which I did not do this time around). But the other words of that final paragraph can be haunting, if permitted:

”So, 2020. Where have you been all my life?”

No such tempting of fate will be attempted here.

Five days in, I am already grateful beyond belief. It is enough that the year began with one of my teams winning, one losing. SO CLOSE to having a ridiculously improbable dream realized, the one where both of my teams play each other for the national championship. But despite a dream year for the Longhorns falling about thirteen yards short at the end of the semifinal, my alma mater’s football team will not be battling my original college football love, Michigan, in Houston for the title. It is now solely up to the Wolverines to finish the job.

And it is enough that my family was able simply to be together for the holidays, and that my wife’s mother is still with us despite all prior indications to the contrary (never underestimate the will to fight, no matter what the doctors and nurses tell you). We never know how long we have with our loved ones, young or old, and this holiday season has been a daily proof of that reality. From the day we took her to the hospital for some general unwellness two days before Thanksgiving, to the weeks-long struggle for her very life, to the somewhat stable condition she is now in.

The truth is, no person knows how long any of us has. The only one who truly knows is God, and for us and our faith in that all-knowing, all-encompassing plan and the One who created it, that is enough.


Altering the Course of History

"Overthrow the order of ignorance and injustice in the world."
       - Steven Pressfield, The War of Art
 
 
It doesn't have to be new.  Or better.  Just different.  An interesting retelling of something useful, to an audience that maybe hasn't heard it before.
 
Maybe they have heard it before, but not in a way that reached them.  I'd like to take a stab at overthrowing the order of ignorance surrounding Bishops of Rome (known to the world as "Popes") and what they did before they became Pope.  I'll pick one for starters, the one about whom I've read the most. 
 
Pope John Paul II saw the worst of humanity, the fascist Nazis and the Communist Soviets, clamping down on his homeland, his beloved Poland.  Poland has a tremendous Catholic history.  It is one of the most concentrated Catholic nations on earth, while being sandwiched between Protestant Germany and Russia (mostly Russian Orthodox and atheist).
 
He had an interesting early life, he was athletic, charismatic, loved the stage, very intelligent.  He had options that he could pursue (although the Nazi occupation forced him into hard labor for a few years even though he was never imprisoned).  Being very devout like his widower father who raised him, he spent a lot of time in prayer at home.  Then God chose him for the priesthood, and he accepted.  That's all there was to it.  And the next 60 years, as they say, was history.  THAT is what can happen when you allow God to lead you, when you ask and listen, when you follow the path he lays out, when you accept his invitation.
 
What did the young Pole leave behind, what did he leave on the table?  Nothing, because those lives, those existences did not, do not, exist.  All that exists is reality, the road taken, NOT the roads left unexplored.
 
If God told you to do something, you would like to believe that you would oblige his request.  The problem is that we don't know if or what God tells us to do.  There is only one way to know, and that is through prayer.  That is where we could all use some help, with knowing how to pray, then doing it.
 
Did Karol Wojtyla (the future Pope John Paul II) pray? What about St. Francis?  Mother Teresa?  How about Jesus himself?  These are all people (along with many many others) who, seemingly, were personally instructed by God on the life they were to lead, the path they were to follow.  But it wasn't as simple as that.  They had to pray to be shown the way, then had to recognize and accept the answer.  Theirs were not lives of comfort, of ease, of carefree joy.  Theirs were lives of hardship, suffering, and daily struggle.  But each of them knew what was the thing that they needed to be doing, on direct orders from God.  And none could have ever imagined a life not completely dedicated to the mission that they were given.  So, actually, maybe it WAS as simple as that.