(Written last fall! Readings are here.)
Last week a colleague welcomed a new baby. Her good news meant I abruptly acquired two extra classes to teach and fifty more students whose names I have yet to learn. My husband had surgery, so I am caretaking. Dear God, I prayed, no more thorns this week. I grabbed the laundry basket and opened the basement door to find water lapping at the steps. Oh, God. As I reached for the mop, I prayed for just enough grace to get through the day.
What was I expecting of this just-enough, just-in-time grace? After all, grace didn’t relieve St. Paul of his thorn in the flesh, nor was I expecting God to miraculously deliver me from the grading or the wet basement floor.
God assured Ezekiel that regardless of the success of his mission, people will know that a prophet has been among them. Perhaps that is the grace that Paul—and all of us—are promised. Not that grace will relieve us of the troubles that beset us, but that by the light of that grace we will know that God has been with us through the thorny days. Like the people in Jesus’ hometown, we may not see great miracles come to pass, indeed, we might not even dare to hope for such signs. Even so, Jesus moves among us, quietly healing our wounds, setting us back on our feet.
Nada te turbe, begins the little prayer found tucked in St. Teresa of Avila’s prayer book: let nothing disturb you. All these things will pass. God alone is enough. For today, it is grace enough for me to know that, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment