A beautiful stained glass window at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen
Not too long ago, Julie, of the blog Happy Catholic, shared the following quote:
At times, you will be able to speak about eternity, when present trials will be transformed into glory; but it isn’t very often that you will be able to speak so directly. By keeping in the bottom of your heart, however this intention of leading these souls to God, you can at least try to give some human hope …
Know how to stress the least disadvantageous side. Know how to emphasize what is pleasant. Point out those things that are better than they were the day before. In short, don’t let the day go by without bringing your provision of comfort. You know very well that a friendly voice is enough to set restless and troubled minds at ease. Be one of those who notice when the thermometer is rising, and not one of those who is always pointing out that it’s getting colder …
Finally this spirit of blessing, of praising, the actions of grace that your belonging to Christ should give you, will be translated practically into good humor: unaffected good humor, penetrating sweetness, and true simplicity; no artificial jesting which breaks forth like laughter, but allows the spirits to plunge again into gloom. No, you are going to be the little smile which, though delicate, on certain winter afternoons reminds people of the springtime, and is its foreshadowing, and shows that life and the joys of living are things that are still possible and not dead and buried.
There are enough people who bury every budding hope. You, you be one who brings hope out into the light.
—Mother Marie des Douleurs
I don’t know who Mother Marie des Douleurs is, but this quote really struck me. It’s something I have been thinking about a lot lately, with regards to blogs, television, books, radio, our show and our blog, and life, in general.
I guess it’s no secret that life—certain aspects of it, at least—can be very ugly. Downright depressing, in fact. I find, as I get older, it’s so easy to let it all get me down. It’s like, as we age, more and more of life’s junk gets dumped on us, and it gets harder and harder to look up and see the light through all the junk.
Before Lent, I was at that point. I just felt cranky all the time. I don’t know what it was, really. As Lent approached, I read on various blogs that a whole bunch of people were going on a news fast. The economy was a mess, everyone was losing money, losing jobs, losing hope. And that’s all the news covered. I was an NPR junkie at the time. I had it on pretty much 24/7. I thought it was white noise, but I didn’t realize how much it was affecting my well-being. And not in a good way.
I decided to give up listening to the radio. I could listen to my iPod, but I wasn’t allowed to listen to any live radio. That was just one of the many things I gave up or did for Lent—I always try to give up something I love, give up something I do that’s bad, do something that would be good for me, and add something spiritual to my life. I don’t always succeed, but I try. I’d have to say of all the things on my Lenten To Do list, giving up NPR was the absolute hardest thing I did. I couldn’t listen in the car—I always listen in the car! I couldn’t listen to my favorite shows: Car Talk, and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, or Mike McGrath and his great gardening tips! (Thank God for podcasts!)
Another thing I curbed during Lent was blog reading. I stopped reading blogs that mostly focused on the negative. And there are a lot of them.
Now, I’m not saying there isn’t something to be said for defending Catholic views and teachings against an increasingly anti-Catholic world. I’m just saying that—like the life of a lawyer, which I gave up years ago—this vocation isn’t mine. It’s not my strength. I am a lousy apologist for the very same reasons I felt I was a lousy lawyer: I am far too emotional. And that’s ok with me. I don’t need to be those things. Others can do that far better than I could.
Lent was a very quiet time for me, but I was amazed to see how my mood did improve! I was no longer annoyed by loud commercials, or by the filth coming out of some DJs mouths (I am constantly amazed). I wasn’t angry about people saying negative things about the Church and I had no idea which high-profile Catholics were publicly betraying their faith. Granted, I was clueless about world affairs, but the world doesn’t need me to notice it. And I don’t really see how my knowing any of that news—which seems more like gossip than “news”—improves my life. How does it make me a better person? How will it help me get to Heaven? I just can’t see it. And at this point in my life, there is no other goal. It’s get in shape to get to Heaven or nothing. Everything else is a waste of time.
So, Lent comes and goes, and I am carefree again. Thank God for DVR, I can screen the TV and only watch what I want, when I want, sans commercials. I read the blogs that bring me joy (like Happy Catholic!) and I listen to the podcasts that make me laugh! I am controlling what comes in my eyes and ears, and that is positively affecting what comes out of my mouth and heart. Good. All good.
Naturally, for me, all of this comes down to The Faithful Traveler. How will this show do to others what I want to do in my life: bring hope to the light, as the quote above says?
When I lived in New York City, there were times I loved the city and times I hated it. The times I hated it were few, and when I did feel negative toward New York, I found that my negative feelings came about when I stopped focusing on all the wonderful things the city had to offer, and started focusing on all the ugly things. The mess, the smell… Fortunately, I could work my way out of those funks by readjusting my vision, my focus, my perspective, and by seeking joy.
This is what I want for The Faithful Traveler (and for everything I do). I want to show the light, to show the joy. I don’t want to show how we all sin, or how hard it is to carry our crosses. YES! It’s hard! Yes! I’m a sinner, and so are you! Recognize it, but why dwell on it? As the song goes, “Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.”
I always used to wonder why the Stations of the Cross recall that Jesus fell three times on the Via Dolorosa. I thought, “Alright! He fell! I got it!” But now I realize that it’s there for us, to remind us that we are going to fall, but we have to keep getting up. No matter how hard or how painful it is.
So, as I make my way through the many amazing shrines and cathedrals, full of stained glass that is so gorgeous it makes me want to cry, I think about bringing forth the light. Because it’s the beauty and the joy that will entice people to watch our show, or to visit the locations we invite them to visit. It’s the joy in our hearts that will make others wonder what it is about our faith that makes us so happy.
And so, every day, I pray this prayer, which I read that Mother Teresa and her girls pray every day:
Dear Jesus, help me to spread Your fragrance everywhere I go.
Flood my soul with Your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess my whole being, so utterly,
That my life may only be a radiance of Yours.
Shine through me, and be so in me,
That every soul I come in contact with may feel Your presence in my soul.
Let them look up and see no longer me, but only Jesus!
Stay with me, and then I shall begin to shine as You shine;
So to shine as to be a light to others.
The light O Jesus will be all from You, none of it will be mine;
It will be You, shining on others through me.
Let me thus praise You without preaching, not by words but by my example,
By the catching force, the sympathetic influence of what I do,
The evident fullness of the love my heart bears for You. Amen.
I pray that God will help me keep my gaze on Him, so that we might, through this little show, bring to light all His glory, and all the joy that His love brings to our hearts.