One month to go. As I am praying for guidance for writing this month, all that is coming to mind is, “One month to go.” One month from today, our baby girl is due to arrive. My life and world are somewhat revolving around that reality, although nothing else is stopping as it seems it should be. The other children still have school and homework, sports, and after-school activities. My husband still has work deadlines. The yard still needs tended. We still need food. The laundry needs done. Yet in my mind and with my preoccupation with the little one inside, everything revolves around her arrival.
“Come, Holy Spirit!”
In this period of time of waiting, I find myself being impatient with God. I want to know His plan, even a small part of it, and I want to know NOW. Some clarity in an otherwise murky time of existence would be nice.
As with many women, my energy level is waxing and waning at this point in my pregnancy. During the times that I need to recharge, I have been reading a series of fiction books. The main character often prays the “prayer that never fails.” Through many books, I have an idea of what he prays, but it isn’t completely revealed within the book. The phrase becomes somewhat of a refrain throughout the books.
Trying to come to terms with my unrest, I took my impatience and frustration to our pastor today. He said he heard Bishop Barron speak. He told a story of Father Hesburgh, who was the president of Notre Dame, for many years. He said Father said he had a prayer that “never failed.” Our pastor said he admits he thought that sounded cocky. Immediately my mind flew to the fact that these books had the same phrase. I listened closely as Father told the story and how it has affected him. He said he started praying the prayer when he was facing a situation and felt he needed more clarity, more direction in how to do handle it. He said he began praying, “Come Holy Spirit.” It wasn’t just once and suddenly his whole life made sense. He was praying it over and over and realized he does have more clarity than he did before he began praying “the prayer that never fails.”
Father invited me to try praying this simple prayer and meditating on these words as I face the future searching for clarity and guidance from our Holy Father. In order for it to never fail, I need to say it with an open heart and mind and soul. He warned me that saying it once isn’t enough.
As I move forward in this time of impatient waiting, I am willing to try, to focus, to allow God to move as I pray, “Come Holy Spirit.”
The homily at mass on Sunday had an interesting connection. We are waiting for spring to arrive here in the Midwest. After a mild winter, we have had a cold start to our spring, including snow this past weekend. It’s easy to get impatient for the warmer weather and green and flowers we typically associate with spring.
Father began speaking about compost. Compost is smelly, leftover, unwanted scraps but left to nature, it turns into rich humus, nature’s miraculous food. Life-giving nutrients for gardens. It takes time, rain, air, temperature, insects, and worms. Compost is not garbage after all, but the secret to life. In a similar way, we can transform the hurts, the scraps of our life into rich fruits with Jesus and His Grace and forgiveness. It is hard work of surrender that takes time. We have to surrender our stubbornness, our hardness, and our hurts. Jesus is ready and waiting to forgive and accept us back, time and again.
Compost teaches us to embrace life, to be healing, to be human, to be saints.
“Come, Holy Spirit!”
