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5 Ways to Wait with Purpose

Advent is a perfect liturgical season to apply what we have learned and understand about the spirituality of waiting – its purpose and gift for us from God. Because taking a lofty spiritual concept can be difficult to break down in terms of practical application to everyday living, it’s important to understand particular steps that can assist us in using our seasons of waiting with intention.

This Advent, try to be sincere in your effort to wait with purpose. Turn to God with these five ways of entering into dialogue with him as only a guideline to understand more deeply what he is asking of you or telling you in your time of waiting.

A brief preface of these five steps is this: You may enter into the first few cyclically for months or even years before you reach the prepare phase. This is because preparation often requires a very refined and fine-tuned faith in which God will chisel and prune you in order to move you closer to a specific call or mission.

Listen

We can never expect to glean clarity in our uncertainty or holy tension if we don’t regularly enter into the sanctuary of our own hearts, nestled in silence. Solitude is absolutely imperative for us to hear God speak to our hearts.

Though it’s difficult to do in my current state as a wife and mother to three young daughters, I create a sacred space every day to enter into the heart of God through silence. This is how I begin my daily prayers and devotions. I gather my prayer journal, daily inspirational flip calendar, liturgical companion Magnificat, and seasonal devotions, if applicable. Then I breathe and gaze at an image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus mounted above our holy water font in the living room.

Listening means we turn our ears toward another. We must eliminate every distraction possible if we are to effectively hear that “still, small voice” within.

Ponder

Sometimes God is silent when we seek him in solitude, but there are occasions when he will give you a bold message. Prepare yourself for all sorts of surprises led by the Holy Spirit! When you read Scripture, and a particular word or phrase or passage really jolts or sears your heart, pay attention. Write it down and mull it over for a few moments.

Ask some questions about it. For example, while I was writing Waiting with Purpose, the words “wait” or “be still” or “trust in the Lord” came to me frequently during the listening and pondering stages of prayer. I kept asking God what he wanted to teach me and wrote down the thoughts that inspired the book.

Pray

After you formulate some questions, bring them directly to the Lord in conversation. Pour your heart out to him – your fears and doubts, your anxiety or concerns, your excitement or restlessness. Give him everything that flows forth as you delve more deeply into your own heart in search of his.

You are conversing with the Divine, so there’s no need for format or formulae here. It’s just your heart language speaking to God’s heart.

This stage will likely lead you back to listening, pondering, asking more questions, and praying again. You will likely engage in this process for quite some time before advancing to the last two.

Prepare

Over time, you might discern that God is asking something specific of you. Everyone’s mission will look different, of course. But the point is that you receive a divine assignment, based on the pattern of listening to and speaking with God.

If and when this happens, you will need to find a good spiritual director if you haven’t already. This person needs to be objective in matters of guiding you more deeply into accepting your holy assignment and discovering what that means. Think of St. Teresa of Calcutta whom Jesus asked to found an order serving the “poorest of the poor.” Or St. Teresa of Avila who heard the Lord tell her to reform the Carmelite order.

God asks some people today to become overseas missionaries, write books, enter into a specific vocation, found a non-profit, lead a parish ministry, and so on. Regardless of the assignment, know that he has something specific in mind for you. Be attentive and vigilant like the wise virgins who kept their oil ready for the Bridegroom’s arrival.

Act

Again, you will need a spiritual director to guide you before you actually go forth to begin your mission or ministry. The point is to be ready for whatever God asks of you. It seems as if waiting lingers forever, but once God acts in your life, he moves quickly. This isn’t always the case, but you will find that timing is such an important piece to your waiting experience.

This post is an abridged version of Chapter 6 in my book, Waiting with Purpose: Persevering When God Says “Not Yet.”

The Joy of Expectant Waiting

By Jeannie Ewing

There are so many beautiful words to describe active waiting: expectancy, joy, pregnancy, anticipation. It’s what we tend to experience during the Advent season. Active waiting (also called Advent or expectant waiting) evokes incredible hope in us, because we are on the cusp of watching how God’s plan unfolds for a specific promise.

A few points pertaining to this type of waiting will guide us as we move through our own journey. Think of the popular song, “I Wonder As I Wander” for this type of expectancy. A seed has been planted. Its in the germination stage right now, and what is required of you is to be vigilant and patience until the time of flourishing – which God determines – arrives.

We Wait In Community

Let’s look to a beautiful example of expectant waiting – the Visitation. What did the Blessed Mother do as soon as she heard the news of Elizabeth’s pregnancy and after she accepted the invitation to bear the Son of God? She went in haste to share this joy with her cousin! They were both pregnant with a promise, so they gathered together in friendship, in community, to allow the seed of human life to grow within them.

When we wait in joyful anticipation, we remember that ‘nothing is impossible for God.’ (Waiting with Purpose, p. 47)

Have Confidence in God’s Promise

One of my favorite saints-to-be is Blessed Solanus Casey. He is well known for his famous quip, “Thank God ahead of time.” What does this mean for us when we are waiting – often with a certain amount of restlessness or tension – for new birth, new life, or a new phase of life to begin? We focus on who God is and all He has already accomplished in our lives. It’s important to thank God for all that He has done, is doing, and will do for us. That’s what expectant faith is – it’s faith that is confident in God.

We know He will act, and we pray accordingly – with expectation of answered prayer.

Expect to Move from Community to Contemplation

God often prepares us for a particular mission in cycles and seasons. We know this from our waiting experiences that somehow give way to seasons of activity and then back to dormancy. If expectant faith relies upon our lives in relationship, then we know we are being formed by those to whom we are closest – family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, spouses, children.

The people who live with us see us at our best and worst. They might draw out specific flaws or weaknesses – tendencies toward impatience, for example. As we enter into prayer each day, God reflects this reality to us so that we might allow Him to further chisel away the imperfections that deter us from spiritually advancing.

Then, one day, or perhaps gradually, we will move from a stage of activity to the desert. Community tends to precede contemplation, in that God draws us – whether quite literally (as in the case of an anchoress or hermit) or interiorly – into a more reflective state of solitude. It is during our time in the desert when God guides us more directly, though we cannot see or feel much of anything.

We wait – always in joyful hope – whether in community or contemplation.

This post was adapted from Chapter 3 in my book, Waiting with Purpose: Persevering When God Says “Not Yet.”

Understanding the Spirituality of Waiting

By Jeannie Ewing

I’m willing to bet that everyone reading this hates to wait. We live in a society that lauds “bigger, better, faster,” and we by and large get what we want, when we want it. Thanks to the technological revolution, information is available 24/7. So waiting, whether we overtly or subconsciously admit it, is something of an impediment to staying active and busy.

Yet we can’t ignore the fact that waiting – especially when we don’t choose it – must have a divine purpose for our lives. If God is deliberate and doesn’t waste anything, then he must be speaking to us when we feel stuck, in the middle, or just plain lost. It’s important for us, then, to examine the “why” behind the “what:” how do seasons of waiting strengthen, prune, and purify us?

Look to Scripture.

In the Bible, we have both Old and New Testament examples of long periods of waiting. The most common and popular example would be the Israelites wandering the desert after their exodus from Egypt. Can you imagine spending 40 years of your life without a home, in a desert no less – without vegetation and with much desolation?

What kept the Israelites going those long years? Why didn’t they just turn away and quit the journey? Well, remember that most of them ended up grumbling from time to time – about their divine food (manna), worshiping the molten calf while Moses was conversing with God atop the mountain. But they kept moving forward. Why?

They were given a promise. God guaranteed that he had a place set aside for them, a land “flowing with milk and honey.” This was the Promised Land.

Then you have the example of the Visitation in the New Testament. Mary waited with her cousin, Elizabeth, after she received the news that she would give birth to the Messiah, the Son of God! Both she and Elizabeth prepared, waited, and celebrated together during several months of gestation. Why? Because they were given a promise – the ultimate promise!

Jesus also prayed in the desert for 40 days, during which time he was tempted by Satan. Isn’t that what happens to us, too? When God invites us to wait for his perfect timing, we often succumb to the doubts and discouragement brought on by thoughts from the enemy.

Why do we wait? Because God has promised that he makes good come from all things according to his purpose.

Live by Way of Obscure Faith

St. John of the Cross coined the term “obscure faith.” Essentially it means faith that is not clear, but it is certain. When we wait, we might be tempted to just pass the time doing one of many enticing options – internet gaming, shopping, idle time on social media scrolling and scrolling, running errands, etc. But we have to remember that waiting isn’t wasting. God wants us to use the time he’s given us fruitfully.

If we understand that this undefined time of desolation in the desert of waiting means something deeper, something we can’t fully grasp just yet, we are encouraged to keep believing that God has a plan in the midst of uncertainty and the unknown.

One such encouragement is that desolation leads to a period of consolation, and vice versa. We tend to go through cycles in our spiritual journeys from one to the other and back again. God gives us consolations, or spiritual sweetness, to uplift and strengthen us for the inevitable forthcoming period of desolation – when we can’t see anything and don’t know what’s going on.

Spend your “down” time resting in God.

(The next post will be about resting and the spirituality of waiting.)

This article is an abridged version of Chapter 1 from my book, Waiting with Purpose: Persevering When God Says “Not Yet.”

Jesus’ Missionary Healers

By Maureen Smith

A few years ago, as I was ushering my 3rd grade Sunday School class to our annual Advent confession day, I reminded them that Jesus was present in the Tabernacle. One of the girls repeated the word “Tabernacle” several times, as if chewing on the word, before proclaiming, “Tabernacle…that’s my favorite word!” It became the word that grounded us when lessons about the Trinity and Church teaching somehow became a weekly update about everyone’s pets. The Tabernacle was our anchor, and each class I reminded them that Jesus was present in that gold box called a Tabernacle whenever they saw that red sanctuary candle lit.

As our Church grapples with the sorrows of the past few months, I feel buoyed up by this memory. It reminds me that our Church is made of much more than the few people who have led us to disappointment and doubt, and I feel emboldened to pray the Creed. Yes, Lord I believe in One God…

I believe that there is a power in being a broken Church. Certainly the Apostles, who felt the corruption and blasphemy of the leaders of their faith at the Church’s very beginnings, must have felt similar emotions. Who can I trust? Is the Lord really present in this Church? Is it worth staying?

Years ago, when I lived in Rome, my parish was Sancta Maria in Trastevere. In the early Church, the taverns, which occupied the Church’s current location, became the very place where the Gospel was spread and hearts were converted to Christ. This bit of history reminds me that the Gospel is not meant to be experienced solely within the confines of the physical church building, and that Jesus Christ is not meant to be kept on reserve in the Tabernacle like a book in a library. Rather, we are all, priest and parishioner alike, meant to proclaim that Gospel and bring that Presence of Christ wherever we go. We are both Tabernacle and sanctuary candle, alive with Christ, present within us, and aflame with the joy of Love Incarnate.

A few years ago, the Holy Father challenged us to be “Missionary Disciples.” I think that, particularly now, we must also be Missionary Healers. Every person is wounded, even (and perhaps most especially) the wound-er. We must accept into our hearts the broken, those who feel alone and rejected. We must give them a resting place in our hearts so that they can experience the warmth of Christ’s Presence in our hearts. Often it is in this moment of mercy that I recognize He is really there.

The world is cold and dark, but His Presence is still aflame, even if it feels like the dying embers of a once roaring fire. The fact remains that light is more powerful than darkness. Even in the darkness we have the moon and stars for light, just as we have Our Lady and the saints (and each other!), giving us hope, pointing us to the sun we cannot see.

We must have faith even when those who promise to lead us go astray, and remain strong in our defense of Christ and His Church, even when our offense fails. We must pray for our leaders, our parish priests who are on the front lines, the offensive line, if you will, taking the hits even when the quarterback fumbles. We are the defense and special teams! We must support our faithful offense, the clergy, who lead us to closer to the endzone, to our Heavenly goal, to become saints in God’s kingdom.

Only God knows the trajectory of our Church. It is my hope, however, that this horrific experience will generate saints of all states of life. Our faith is stronger than sin, as it is made of the very Presence of Christ in our hearts, so long as we let Him remain there. We are living Tabernacles, charged with bringing healing to our broken world. Together we can rebuild His Church, a mission not unique to Saint Francis.

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that each of us is broken, wounded by sin, others, and the fallen world in which we live. To all of you, let Christ heal you! He accepts you, as broken as you are. You are never too broken for God.

When you find yourself feeling lost remember the anchor. You are a Tabernacle, Jesus Christ is with you, and you have a mission. Our Church will never crumble because Christ is truly present in our sanctuaries, in our hearts, and in those of countless other Christians. Wherever you are, at home or in your car, at work or school, in a bar or a tavern, you are a Missionary Healer, because you are His and He is yours.

Fasting 101: My Experience Over the Last Six Weeks

By Amanda Woodiel

A reader, referring back to a post from a couple of months ago, asked me if I had actually done anything to implement a weekday fast so that Sunday could be a feast day without being gluttonous.

And, wonder of wonders, I have!

So often the noble percolates in my head, and it takes months (maybe even years!) to materialize in my everyday life. But this time, thanks to several different threads coming together and by God’s grace, I have actually implemented a weekday fasting schedule.

Most days I fast from dinner until dinner. This is called intermittent fasting. (If you want to learn more about intermittent and extended fasting from a medical, physiological point of view, read The Complete Guide to Fasting by Dr. Jason Fung.) Several years ago, my trim chiropractor mentioned that this is how he eats, and I thought he was completely nuts. In truth, it is really not so radical (humans have been fasting and feasting since time immemorial) or so difficult (I found that anticipation of how hard it will be is way worse than the reality).

I have been fasting now for over six weeks. I don’t fast on Sundays or on feast days. The first big feast day since I began this practice was the Feast of the Assumption, and it really felt like a feast! After breakfast, I took the kids to a local bakery and relished a pecan sticky bun. For lunch, I put sugar in my coffee. And for dinner I ate take-out pizza. It was awesome, and it was awesome without being gluttonous. It felt like true feasting.

So how do I feel while fasting?

Mostly I feel great. The hunger comes occasionally, but as I had read, it comes in waves. If you make it through the wave of hunger, the feeling goes away and stays away for a couple of hours. So for me it’s about an hour of feeling hunger around lunchtime, and then I am fine until dinner, and even then, I don’t feel that hungry. I have done two 44-hour fasts, and those were only marginally more difficult than my usual routine.

I have felt far less lethargic than I have in a long time and have more energy than usual. I even tackled cleaning our basement (a cellar-style storage space), which is a project I have ignored for over a decade.

Overall, I have simply enjoyed food more than ever. The daily meal tastes so good and is such a delight; I feel like I have re-discovered the joy of food. It feels like the way God probably designed food to be consumed: I feel hungry when I eat, and I’m not just shoving it into my body because I want it or because it’s there or because I am feeling a negative emotion.

I should also mention that there have been surprising practical benefits. I find I have about an extra four hours per week (the time that would have been spent preparing and eating my own breakfasts and lunches throughout the week). I am spending less money. While I wouldn’t say these would personally be reasons enough to motivate me to fast, they have been pleasant advantages.

There is a spiritual side of fasting too. One of the main reasons why I fast is because I felt that food had power over me in a way that it shouldn’t. I was cranky when I didn’t eat. I thought about how to reward myself with food. I turned to food when sad or stressed. I ate too much of certain foods just because I wanted to. Intuitively, I knew that that part of my life was not properly ordered. If you are in a similar situation, you might enjoy taking a little food attachment quiz I created when I was deep in exploring my own disordered attachment to food.

Jesus presumed we would be fasting. “When you fast,” He said (see Matthew 6:16). I know so little about the power of fasting, as I am so new to it. But I can say that it has already induced some sense of detachment from the things of the world. Like all Christian spiritual practices, such as prayer and alms-giving, fasting molds the soul into the way of holiness.

Fasting also has always been a way of showing remorse for our own sins and a way to make reparation for the sins of others. I am tempted to think that because I am doing it for my physical and spiritual health, it cannot also be “applied” as a prayer. Nonsense! Think of the Holy Mass, when we pray “May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands, for the praise and glory of His name, for our good, and the good of all his holy church.” If the Mass itself can be said for God’s glory as well as for ourselves as well as for the entire church, well, then so can our small acts of fasting. Offer your sacrifice to God for His glory, your own good, and the good of the whole world.

If you feel out of control regarding food, want to re-discover a spiritual practice that has been around for thousands of years, and/or desire to create a rhythm in your family life that accords with the liturgical year, I encourage you to try fasting! It is changing my life.

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The Forgotten Victims of Clerical Abuse

By Ellen Gable Hrkach

“He heals the wounds of every shattered heart.” Psalm 147:3

The recent revelations about Cardinal (now Archbishop) McCarrick, and the newly published Grand Jury report from several dioceses in Pennsylvania, are disturbing, especially to the most devout Catholics. Some members of the Church are leaving in disgust. I haven’t yet read the PA Grand Jury report, but from what I can gather through social media, it will take someone with a strong stomach to endure the entire document.

For every abuse that was reported, there are hundreds, maybe thousands over the past 70 years, that were not – and have never been – reported.

The most recent announcement that homosexual networks existed within seminaries and dioceses has caused some Catholics to have a crisis of faith because numerous seminarians tried to alert higher-up prelates, to no avail. It’s unacceptable that a bishop – or as in the case of McCarrick, the cardinal – would be complicit. Pope Francis has now made a public statement promising justice for the victims. There are many victims, however, who will never see justice.

Whenever I hear a story about clerical sex abuse, it opens a wound, not only because I’m Catholic, but because my father was abused many years ago. He is one of many who never reported the (likely ongoing) abuse.

Summer, 1961, visiting my father at the psychiatric hospital

My father’s abuser was indeed a priest, who happened to be one of his teachers in high school. This information was something that my siblings and I didn’t find out until after my father died in 1978 as he had only told my mother about the abuse.

Back in the 1940’s, priests were placed on a pedestal. My father couldn’t go to his parents or other teachers or anyone because he was ashamed, and he didn’t think anyone would believe him. At the time, my father was discerning the priesthood. To say the abuse confused him is an understatement. I can’t imagine having to attend school and see your abuser every day and not be able to say anything.

Dad later met and married my mom and tried to settle down into married life. But his troubles were far from over. He dealt with depression and other mental illness on and off for a few years before he had a mental breakdown in 1961 and was committed to the local psychiatric hospital. I remember visiting him there and, despite the odd surroundings, I was always happy to see my dad.

He was eventually diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and manic depression (now called bipolar disease) and was prescribed a regimen of medication.

My dad continued to battle with mental illness for the rest of his life. He eventually became an alcoholic and died tragically at the age of 49. His life ended not unlike many of the thousands of other abuse victims.

It wasn’t easy to lose my father. He was only 49. But the first time I saw him in the casket after he had passed away, he looked more at peace than I could ever remember. I felt confident that God would take care of him.

When I first found out my own father had been abused, I was angry. I wanted to strangle the priest who traumatized him.

There are many like my father out there, some living, and some already deceased, who are/were unknown victims of clerical abuse.

But we as a family were (are) victims too. As a family, we watched my father’s struggles and suffering. We watched him go through drunken stupors and depressive episodes. We watched him get on and fall off the wagon too many times to count. It wasn’t unusual for him to break down and cry. I know that there are many factors that cause someone to have a mental breakdown or become an alcoholic, but I believe the abuse contributed substantially to his ongoing despair.

So with the recent allegations, what is the way forward? First, I’d like pass on encouragement to the many faithful and virtuous priests with the words of Dr. Janet Smith when she said: “To all you wonderful, faithful, chaste, devout, self-giving priests out there, my heart goes out to you. Thank you for answering the call and thank you for staying. The temptation to leave will be great. Please stay. We need you now more than ever. And please know I am praying ardently for you!”

Second, many of the links below give detailed ways the Church can move forward. One thing is for certain: leaving the Church is not an option.

Did my father ever leave the Church of his youth? No.

Following his example, I will do the same. Why? Because my faith is not dependent on the pope, any priest or any human being. I’m Catholic and will remain so because of the Eucharist, because of Jesus Christ and because I believe God’s Word. My faith also tells me I must forgive: the priest who abused my father, anyone who tried to cover it up, and any past and present priests, bishops and cardinals who have been guilty of any wrongdoing.

As Frank Sheed said in the early 60’s: “We are not baptized into the hierarchy; do not receive the Cardinals sacramentally; will not spend an eternity in the beatific vision of the pope. Christ is the point. I, myself, admire the present pope (Paul VI), but even if I criticized him as harshly as some do, even if his successor proved to be as bad as some of those who have gone before, even if I find the church, as I have to live with it, a pain in the neck, I should still say that nothing that a pope (or a priest, Bishop, Cardinal) could do or say would make me wish to leave the church, although I might well wish that they would leave.”

And there is always hope. I believe very much what Fr. Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) predicted in 1969: “From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge — a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. It will be hard going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek… But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church.”

As we pray and make reparation in the days ahead, I ask you to pray for all those forgotten victims (like my father) who never reported the abuse, and for all families of abuse victims.

Let’s continue to pray and fast for all victims and their extended families. As much as we yearn for a renewal of the Church and the defrocking of any cleric who chooses not to live a chaste priesthood, let us also continue to pray and fast for the conversion of the abusers. As difficult as it is, we are called to forgive.

Read more about the Grand Jury report here.

Read more about the homosexual subculture in the Church.

3 Ways to Find Meaning in Your Suffering

By Jeannie Ewing

If you’re Catholic, you’ve undoubtedly heard from someone, somewhere: “Offer it up.” It’s an unfortunate cliche nowadays, but it doesn’t have to be.

Suffering has merit if we don’t waste it. Our grief can become an immense gift not only to God but also to others. Through time, as we learn to manage our struggles with more patience and perseverance, we will learn that God has perhaps hidden something specific we can use from our experience with loss: mission.

Everyone wants a purpose in life, and we all were born with one. Yet unveiling it as we grow up and grow old doesn’t always happen clearly or smoothly. Sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.

Though God never intended for suffering, disease, sin, and death to enter into our lives, we must handle the consequences of Original Sin (thanks Adam and Eve) somehow. Jesus was the One to show us how.

Without the sin of our First Parents, we would never have needed Jesus. We wouldn’t have known Him or had the opportunity to be reconciled to Him. I wonder if we would have ever truly understood love. Through the example of Christ in His Passion, we can find meaning in our suffering, too.

Here are three ways you might come to grow as a result of whatever loss you are struggling to make sense of right now:

Discover your mission. There are enough suffering people in this world who need something that you have to offer. Maybe you understand firsthand the pain of loving someone with an addiction. You might become an addictions counselor. Or maybe your grief relates to losing a spouse slowly to the formidable death of Alzheimer’s. Your purpose might be to volunteer at a nursing home and talk with family members about what to expect or ask them questions about how they are handling the diagnosis.
Recognize that joy can exist with sorrow. In fact, you might experience both simultaneously. It’s very strange to explain, but it happens. And if it has happened to you, then you know exactly what I mean. Don’t settle for the falsehood that you have to pursue worldly, selfish “happiness” that only means doing what feels good in the moment. True joy is about sacrifice. It entails hard work, self-denial. It is a large part of your cross and could be particular to your grief journey. Be a witness to others who are in or near despair that a joy-filled life is possible!
Accompany others. Remember that healing does not occur in isolation. A beautiful and mysterious gift contained in your grief may be that you walk with someone who is in a very raw stage of emotional pain. Grief may be new to them right now. But you have been there for a while, and you know that the intensity of those emotions eventually dies down. Sit with them. Be with them. The gift of presence is the most powerful and transformative of anything else you could offer. In turn, you might discover greater healing for yourself, too.

In God there is no darkness. Let your life reflect His light, then. Place your lamp on a lamp stand instead of under a bushel basket. Don’t hide in shame because of your loss. Be authentic and sincere to others, and they will see Jesus in you.

Paraphrased from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.

The 6 Spiritual Principles of Moving Through Grief

By Jeannie Ewing

Grief is one of those tricky, delicate, often nebulous life phenomena that is tough to pinpoint and define. We all suffer differently, and we all experience grief in a very personal, unique way. Even so, I’ve found that there are some universal strategies – what I call “spiritual principles” – that can really aid all of us when we are seeking healing after devastating loss.

In my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph, I delve more deeply into these principles, how they work together, and what they might look like for you as you move through your grief journey. But there’s no panacea as to how you will experience each of these principles. They are intended to be guideposts, not certainties, in your spiritual journey toward healing.

The 6 spiritual principles of moving through grief are:

Humility of Heart:
- This is the foundation of all other principles, because it requires us to move from self-pity (“woe is me” attitude) toward focus on God.
- Opportunities to grow in humility tend to come in the form of humiliations; when grieving, these can include unexpected weeping to a compassionate stranger or permitting a neighbor to clean our house.
- Requires vulnerability – allowing God to tear down our emotional barricades, being transparent to others
Abandonment to Divine Providence:
- Builds upon the first principle (humility), because our hearts need to be receptive by way of humility. Pride closes and hardens our hearts.
- This receptivity allows us to move to a place in which we long to please God, even in the midst of mystery.
- Abandonment, or surrender, is acquired through acts that try one’s patience and foster perseverance.
- A person who is ready to enter into this principle has a heart and mind that is open, ready, and willing to hand over our wants and needs into God’s hands without needless worry or concern.
Holy Indifference:
- Based on the Ignatian concept that if the soul “is attached or inclined to a thing inordinately, that [person] should move himself, putting forth all his strength, to come to the contrary of what he is wrongly drawn to.”
- It is NOT apathy or indifference. It does not mean we no longer care about our circumstances, only that we surrender (second principle) our needs, cares, and concerns without expecting a specific outcome to our prayer.
- It is the third principle, because one must have begun the journey into humility and abandonment before the ability to be content with a “yes” or “no” or “not yet” answer from God to our prayers.
- Related to holy detachment
The Dark Night of the Soul (e.g., Holy Darkness):
- Focused on fidelity to God in the face of self-emptiness.
- Acquired through time, temptations, trials, and tribulations.
- Feeling as if God has forsaken or abandoned you; feeling spiritually dry or alone.
- If you’re in a state of grace (e.g., no mortal sin staining your soul, and you are staying close to the sacraments of Eucharist and Confession), then the emptiness and loneliness you feel may be this holy darkness.
- NOT the same as the darkness caused by sin or consequences of sin (including spiritual attack).
Confidence in God’s Timing:
- “Thank God ahead of time for whatever He sees is best for [you]…Courage is half the battle – confidence in God is the soul of prayer – foster the latter and you have both.” (Bl. Solanus Casey)
- In your period of mourning, when you are feeling empty, exhausted, possibly abandoned by God and others – cultivate gratitude. Think of your past and all the ways God has delivered or blessed you. Then, thank Him for what He is doing in your life that you cannot see and entrust your entire present and future into His hands (2^nd principle – surrender).
- When we thank God for our pain and sorrow, as well as our joys and celebrations, we make everything a holy gift that He, in turn, molds into a facet of healing, strength, and peace for us.
The Wound of the Heart:
- This is a mystical concept based on St. Therese of Lisieux’s spirituality: “I offer myself as a victim of holocaust to your merciful love.”
- When we pray without expectation of a certain outcome (holy indifference, 3rd principle), and when we thank God for all He is doing and will be doing in our lives (confidence/gratitude, 5th principle), then we will accept that our pain may not be taken away from us. Instead, it may be transformed into love.
- “Martyrdom of the heart” or “white martyrdom” that some saints experienced – a piercing of the heart and soul that causes a “wound of love.” In other words, our grief and suffering may become the best gift of love we can unite with the wounds of Jesus.
- This principle teaches us how to suffer well.

Adapted from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.

What is Grief?

By Jeannie Ewing

Popular counselors tend to affirm the common definition of grief in our western culture: that it is a period of designated mourning following the death of a loved one. While this is certainly true, it is a narrow and limited understanding of what grief encompasses. Perhaps that’s why it’s so hard for most of us to recognize when we are grieving.

What I have learned, both from personal experience and in my professional background, is that grief includes any significant and devastating loss. This could be the death of your beloved pet; the sudden loss of your job; a child born with a genetic condition or disability (as in our case); a spouse who has left you; caring for an elderly parent who is suffering from dementia; struggling in the aftermath of sexual assault; recovering from PTSD as a military veteran; making ends meet as a single mother; healing after abortion; hidden sorrow from a miscarriage or stillbirth.

There are countless life circumstances that trigger our grief experiences. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but it does help to get us thinking – or rethinking – about what grief is and how it affects us when life goes in a direction other than what we’d imagined.

Here are some points to remember when you are grieving:

Any loss that is significant in your life can cause grief. You might feel sad, lost, lonely, or angry. These are some of the normal feelings associated with loss.
Change can provoke a sense of loss, too. Every change in life – moving, having a baby, getting a new job – entails both good and bad, the possibilities of what is in store as well as the loss of what is left behind.
There is no timeline for grief! Despite what others may believe, or what you might also think, grief happens on its own terms. You can neither predict nor hasten how you will experience grief.
Be gentle and patient with yourself when you are grieving. There will be days or weeks that seem more “normal” to you, but you may have what you feel are setbacks – moments of frustration, longing for what once was and is no longer, a crying spell after hearing a song.
Grief involves physical and emotional changes in your life, but don’t neglect the spiritual dimension of grief. Our faith tells us that suffering is not lost upon God when we hand it to Him with humility and sincerity. Suffering is redemptive in this way.
Find ways to process your pain. For some, this includes journaling memories or perhaps creating visual art. For others, it might be taking a walk, talking to a trusted friend or pastor, Eucharistic Adoration.

My hope is that we will shift our focus from eschewing suffering to embracing it. A wonderful devotion for those who are suffering is the Divine Mercy chaplet and novena. We would all do well to extend mercy to ourselves and others who are grieving a loss.

(Note: I will include a separate post about Divine Mercy related to grief at a later date.)

Paraphrased from my book, From Grief to Grace: The Journey from Tragedy to Triumph.

Teach Your Kids to Pray in 5 Simple Steps

By Jeannie Ewing

My husband and I are not unusual in the sense that we have three daughters. What is unusual about our family, however, is that two of our three girls have special needs. “Special needs,” of course, runs a wide gamut. In our case, it covers both minor developmental issues that can be corrected through occupational therapy (for our oldest, Felicity) and complex care that includes medical, psychological, and educational professionals (for Sarah, our middle child).

When we were teaching the older girls how to pray, they weren’t sure what that entailed. I wanted to use the acronym ACTS to explain that prayer can be adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication (or petition). But they didn’t really understand the academic explanation. Here’s what I did instead. (Thank you, Holy Spirit!)

Use a simple formula for young kids or children who have cognitive impairment to help prayer become a natural, fluid conversation with God that covers all of the four hallmarks of prayer:

Dear Jesus, my day was…
Thank you for…
I’m sorry for…
Please help me to…
I love you, Jesus. Amen.

Have your child begin in front of an image of Jesus or statue. In our home, it’s a framed image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The girls get some holy water, make the Sign of the Cross (sometimes with help), and begin with item #1. Telling Jesus about their day helps them make the connection that Jesus is real and cares about the details of our lives – also that our daily lives change, and it’s good to bring the hurts, frustrations, and joys to prayer.

Item #2 is a prayer of thanksgiving. I try to jog my girls’ memory by saying, “What is something good that happened today you’d like to thank Jesus for?” Sometimes the variations of this might be, “What’s something special about today?” or “Is there a person in your life you want to thank Jesus for?” Gratitude, I believe, fosters a much deeper sense of who we are as people of faith because of acknowledging God’s provision.

When we segue into item #3, we are entering into contrition. This is a very rudimentary form of an evening examen, but the point is to put a habit into place that can be expounded upon later, as your child matures. I might prompt the girls with something like, “What’s something you did today that you wish you hadn’t?” or “Are you sorry for anything you might have said or done today?” It’s incredible the things they remember and bring to the Lord!

#4 is really a continuation of the third item, yet it acts alone as the hallmark of petition, or supplication. I tell the girls that sometimes when we see our sins, we can ask Jesus for the grace of a specific virtue we might need. For example, if Felicity says she is sorry for mouthing off to Mom today, she might ask Jesus to help her use self-control and grow in respect. These, of course, are conversations we have as they go along with their prayer.

Finally, let’s end with praising God! When we tell Him we love Him (which we can never do enough), we end our short conversation by handing Him our hearts.

This has become such a treasured part of our nightly routine, and it has been a very useful way to incorporate spontaneous dialogue between our girls and God.