Slow Work of God

      12 Practices to Navigate Your Spiritual Journey – The Wholly Grail 

 

“Above all, trust in the slow work of God.” Teilhard de Chardin

When I was a novice, I thought that by the time I was 60 or so, I would be pretty close to holiness. I would have developed a deep prayer life, and have overcome most of my defects. But look at me! I’m past 80, still sloughing along, sinful and lazy, distracted and complaining, far from the person I want to be. I often ask God to give me humility, give me courage, give me patience, give me a generous heart. Yet, my progress is so slow, almost infinitesimal. How long, O Lord? I cry out with the prophets of old.

I reflect on Chardin’s advice. “Above all, trust in the slow work of God.” Since God has no sense of time, past, present, and future are all one to him. We have to believe that God knows what he is doing, or he wouldn’t be God. So slow is good, as God is good. Even when I do not realize it, God is slowly drawing out the good in me.

Most of us are so impatient to reach the goal. We are reluctant to go through all the intermediate steps, the unexciting, painful parts of the journey. Each step, each phase is important along the way to the Unknown. None of them can be skipped.

So I try to be content to walk with God, millimeter by millimeter, knowing he is directing my path, knowing he will not let me stray too far. I have the assurance he will stay the course when I falter, will pick me up when I fall down. Mysteriously, steadily, the slow work of God is going on. 

Thank you, Lord, for your care for me. Help me to be patient with myself.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Limping to God I come to you, God, weather-beaten and limping, asking for forgiveness for all the times I have failed to be faithful and attentive to all those around me, especially the elderly who have run the race, the poor, the lonely and abandoned, who need my care and concern.     Is there any hope for these old bones? What will it take to change my limp into a surge of energy and a ready step? Teach me to become more caring, more responsive, more aware. Give me eyes to see and the will to act on my good intentions.   Water my dried up spirit and shriveled body, expand my shrunken heart. Give me eyes to see what you are leading me to do even as my bones creak and my legs become unsteady. Make me remember that I am here to serve, to listen, to be ready to be your hands and feet today.   Barbara Mayer, OSB    
Read more
Image
    “Wonderfully Made” When I took a college English course, our first assignment was to write an essay about whether we would rather lose our sight or lose our legs. It was a thought-provoking choice. If we became blind, we would miss seeing our loved ones and all the beauty of our world. If we could not walk, we would be hindered from traveling and moving around without help. I chose to keep my eyesight since I love to read and write and enjoy the variety and beauty that surrounds us.   Of course, I’m glad I didn’t have to make that choice in real life, but it was a thought-provoking assignment. It made me think about how much we take our bodies for granted. I began to think about all the organs, veins, arteries, canals, nerves, and bones we have in our bodies and how they all work together to keep us alive and healthy. It is not until we lose one of them that we realize how magnificent we are, created in the “image and likeness of God.” God loves each and every one of us as if
Read more
Image
  Overcoming Discouragement Sometimes discouragement and failure take over our lives, and we cannot seem to crawl out of our hole. Even if in reality they are not a true picture, we can be blinded by the seeming darkness.  It often takes another person to uncover what is hidden from us and to see through the cloudy picture.  I am reminded of a story about Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous. He tells of how he felt his dream of starting a group for people with drinking problems was not going anywhere. Then unexpectedly Father Dowling, a disheveled priest, came to his door in the middle of a snowstorm. Bill’s caretaker told him that a “damn bum” was at the door. Bill was tired but agreed to see him and in doing so had his “second conversion experience.” Bil and Father Dowling talked way into the night, and Bill told of his “high hopes and plans, and spoke about his anger, despair and mounting frustrations.”  It turned out that the elderly priest had had similar feel
Read more