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I discovered the transformative power of the ?Prayer of Abandonment? by Blessed Charles de Foucauld through one of my professors at graduate school, shortly after my husband and I became foster parents to a sibling group of three. I was reeling from the transition to motherhood, and my teacher suggested that this prayer might help me find the peace I so badly needed.?
?If you want to change your life,? the kindly priest explained, ?say this prayer every day ? and if you want to transform your marriage, say it with your husband!? Eagerly, I took the little prayer card, taped it to my bathroom mirror, and read it aloud each morning:
Father, I abandon myself into Your hands;
Do with me what You will.
Whatever You may do, I thank You:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only Your will be done in me, and in all Your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
Into Your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to You with all the love of my heart,
For I love You, Lord, and so need to give myself,
To surrender myself into Your hands without reserve,
And with boundless confidence,
For You are my Father.
For nearly twenty years, this heartfelt prayer of simple trust, based on the Lord?s Prayer (the Our Father), has been a constant source of light for me, especially as my husband and I continue to parent these children, two of whom we adopted in 2005. Through all the joys and sorrows of family life, this prayer rings true to me, and I find myself offering it in a new way now that my mother has joined our family. When dementia troubles her mind, this prayer helps me to walk with her without fear, with boundless confidence in the One who loves us both.
Heidi Hess Saxton is author of several books including "The Ave Prayer Book for Catholic Mothers" (available October 2021 through Ave Maria Press). A free downloadable called ?A 40 Day Marriage Adventure,? a prayer exercise based on the Prayer of Abandonment, is available on her website ?A Life on the Road Less Traveled? (heidisaxton.com).
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Here?s a scale to test your courage? Before entering a monastery hidden in the high desert of California, I lived at 5th and Main street in downtown Los Angeles, the border of Skid Row. Rampant homelessness is one of LA?s not so amiable qualities. Individuals down on their luck come from far and wide, often by means of a free one-way Greyhound ticket, to wander streets where winters are less hostile, begging for a means to rise above their circumstances. It is impossible to traverse a couple blocks of downtown without being reminded of the hopelessness that marks these individuals? daily lives. The sheer magnitude of L.A.?s homelessness often leaves the more fortunate feeling as if nothing they would do could ever make the problem go away, so they resort to a strategy of avoiding eye contact, rendering invisible a population of 41,290, and counting. Man on a Mission One day I was having lunch with a friend at Grand Central Market. During our meal he unexpectedly handed me the key to a room in the luxurious Bonaventure Hotel, telling me it was mine to enjoy for the next couple of weeks! The Bonaventure, with its revolving sky restaurant, was the biggest hotel in LA, and only a ten minute walk from my studio apartment. I had no need for a fancy hotel room, but I knew 41,290 individuals who did. My only dilemma was how I should go about selecting the single person who would receive shelter? I felt like the gospel servant who was commissioned by his master to ?Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame? (Luke 14:21). It was midnight when I got off work. Emerging from the metro station I began my ?hunt,? asking God to select the person He wished to bless. Peering down alleyways, I glided through the city on my skateboard, trying not to appear like a man on a mission. I headed for the L.A. Cafe, confident I would find someone in need there. Sure enough I spotted a man sitting on the storefront sidewalk. He was old and thin, showing boney shoulders through a stained white T-shirt. I sat down a few feet away. ?Hello,? I greeted him. ?Hi,? he returned. ?Sir, are you looking for a place to sleep tonight?? I asked. ?What?? he said. ?Are you looking for a place to sleep?? I repeated. Suddenly he became irritated. ?Are you trying to make fun of me?? he said, ?I?m fine. Leave me alone!? Surprised and feeling sorry for offending him, I apologized and rolled off dismayed. This mission would be more difficult than I expected. After all, it was after midnight, and I was a total stranger offering what seemed too good to be true. But the odds were in my favor, I thought. My offer might get turned down, just like the servant in the parable of the great banquet, but sooner or later someone would be bound to take me up on it. The only question was how long would it take? It was already late, and I was tired after a long shift at work. Maybe I should try again tomorrow, I thought. Unknown Realms Skating and praying, I continued to make my way through the urban jungle, eyeing various candidates. Sitting on a nearby corner, I spotted the silhouette of a man alone in a wheelchair. He appeared to be half asleep and half awake, as many do who are accustomed to sleeping on the streets. Hesitant to disturb him, I approached cautiously until he looked up at me with tired eyes. ?Excuse me sir,? I said, ?I have access to a room with a bed, and I know you don?t know me, but if you trust me I can take you there.? Without raising an eyebrow, he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. ?Great. What?s your name?? I asked. ?James,? he replied. I asked James to hold my skateboard as I pushed him in his wheelchair and together we made our way to the Bonaventure. His head became increasingly alert as our surroundings gentrified. While pushing him along through the darkness, I couldn?t help but notice what appeared to be sand covering his backside. Then I realized the sand was moving. It wasn?t sand at all, but thousands of tiny insects. Entering the five star hotel lobby, James and I were met with expressions of shock from every onlooker. Avoiding eye contact, we passed the posh fountain, boarded a glass elevator, and arrived at the room. James asked if he could take a bath. I helped him inside. Once clean, James slid himself comfortably between white sheets and fell immediately to sleep. That night James taught me an important lesson: God?s invitations often come unexpectedly, demanding a measure of faith that usually makes us uncomfortable. Sometimes we must find ourselves in situations with nothing to lose before we are ready to accept His invitation to us. And more often, it is in bringing blessings to others that we are truly blessed.
?Ask, and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and the door will be opened to you.? Matthew 7:7 It was the Fall of 2020 and it was one of those beautiful warm days. My husband, Mark, and I were home doing things around the house. I was so tired of hanging around the house, more often than not, due to Covid, so I told Mark I was going out for a drive and would be back home in a few hours. He told me to have a good time and we would see each other later. After I got into my car, I decided to head toward the mall. As I was nearing the mall I asked the Lord out loud, ?Where should I go?? I immediately heard in my heart, ?Pat?. She is my old neighbor who is now in a memory care facility. I thought that was a great idea, and it had been awhile since I had visited her. By now, I was already halfway there. I decided not to call first; I would call from the parking lot once I arrived. The Covid restrictions, at that time, prohibited me from visiting inside. I thought maybe Pat and I could walk around outside. I had to wait and see. I pulled into the parking lot and called Pat. She immediately answered! I do not even remember the phone ringing. Her first words were, ?Carol, where are you??, as if she knew I was coming. I told her I was in the parking lot at her place. She told me she was outside on the patio and I could join her there with a mask on. So, I drove around to the outdoor patio, put on a mask, and met her at the gate. She let me in. We were so happy to see each other. The sun was shining warmly on our faces; the Son was shining in our hearts. There we sat, on the patio, just the two of us, talking and laughing for well over an hour. We even prayed together. What a wonderful visit or should I say, Divine appointment? Just think, if I had not listened to that still, small voice I heard at home, nudging me to get outside in the sunshine, I would have missed out on a fantastic visit with my friend, Pat! Thank you, Jesus, for loving me the way you do!
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A repeated whisper from above, numerous failed attempts?all solved by a children?s story! There is a wonderful tale by Hans Christian Andersen entitled The Steadfast Tin Soldier that I have taken immense pleasure in reading aloud to my daughter, and she, in listening to it. This one-legged tin soldier?s brief existence is marked by tribulation after tribulation. From falling from several storeys to nearly drowning to being swallowed by a fish like Jonah, the handicapped fighter comes to understand suffering quite quickly. Through it all, though, he does not hesitate, falter, or flinch. Oh, to be like the tin soldier! Discovering the Reason Literalists and pessimists might attribute his steadfastness to the fact that he is made of tin. Those who appreciate metaphor will say it is because he has a deep knowledge of his identity. He is a soldier, and soldiers do not let fear or anything, for that matter, steer them from their course. The trials wash over the tin soldier, but he remains unchanged. At times, he admits that if he were not a soldier, he would do such and such?like shed tears?but those things he did not do, for it would not be in line with who he was. In the end, he is cast into a stove where, reminiscent of Saint Joan of Arc, he is engulfed in flames. His remains are later found by the housemaid, reduced to?or one might say, transformed into?a perfectly shaped tin heart. Yes, the fires that he so resolutely endured molded him into love! Perhaps, all that is required to become steadfast is to know one's identity? The question then is, what is our identity? I am, and you are, too, a daughter (or son) of the King of the Universe. If only we know and never cease to claim this identity, we too can be steadfast on the journey toward becoming like Love Himself. If we go about our days knowing that we are princesses and princes gallivanting about our Father's castle, what would we fear? What would make us quake, turn back, or crumble? No falls or floods or flames could make us step aside from the path toward sainthood that has been so lovingly laid before us. We are beloved children of God, destined to become saints if we only stay the course. The trials will become joys because they will not pull us from our path but, if endured well, will ultimately transform us into that which we long to be! Our hope and joy can always remain, for even if all about us is hardship, we are still beloved, chosen, and made to be with the Father in Heaven for all eternity. Sorrows into Joy! When the Angel Gabriel, on his mission to receive Mary?s fiat, sees Mary's fear, he tells her: ?Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God.? (Luke 1:30) What glorious news! And how glorious that we, too, have found favor with God! He made us, loves us, and desires for us to be with Him always. So, we, like Mary, need not be afraid, no matter what difficulty comes our way. Mary steadfastly accepted all that came her way, knowing that His Providence is perfect and that the salvation of all mankind was at hand. She stood at the foot of the Cross in the moments of her greatest suffering and remained. In the end, though Mary?s heart was pierced by many swords, she was assumed into Heaven and crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth, to be with Love forever. Her steadfastness and loving endurance through suffering paved the way to her Queenship. Yes, the sorrow of the Pieta became the glory of the Assumption. The martyrdom of so many holy men and women made them a part of the Heavenly host praising the Lord forevermore. Like our Mother and the Saints, may we accept the grace to be steadfast, standing tall amidst sorrow, flames, and all other circumstances that try to divert us from the Lord?s open arms. May we be firmly rooted in our identity as children made in the Father's image. May we, like the renowned poet Tennyson once wrote: ?Be strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!? May we, after it all, become like Love.
Through the darkest valleys and toughest nights, Belinda heard a voice that kept calling her back. My mother walked out on us when I was around eleven. At the time, I thought that she left because she didn't want me. But in fact, after years of silently suffering through marital abuse, she couldn?t hold on anymore. As much as she wanted to save us, my father had threatened to kill her if she took us with her. It was too much to take in at such a young age, and as I was striving hard to navigate through this difficult time, my father started a cycle of abuse that would haunt me for years to come. Valleys and Hills To numb the pain of my father?s abuse and compensate for the loneliness of my mother?s abandonment, I started resorting to all kinds of ?relief? mechanisms. And at a point when I couldn?t stand the abuse anymore, I ran away with Charles, my boyfriend from school. I reconnected with my mother during this time and lived with her and her new husband for a while. At 17, I married Charles. His family had a history of incarceration, and he followed suit soon enough. I kept hanging out with the same bunch of people, and eventually, I, too, fell into crime. At 19, I got sentenced to prison for the first time?five years for aggravated assault. In prison, I felt more alone than I had ever been in my life. Everyone who was supposed to love and nurture me had abandoned me, used me, and abused me. I remember giving up, even trying to end my life. For a long time, I kept on spiraling downwards until I met Sharon and Joyce. They had given their lives to the Lord. Though I had no clue about Jesus, I thought I'd give it a try as I didn't have anything else. There, trapped inside those walls, I started a new life with Christ. Falling, Rising, Learning? About a year and a half into my sentence, I came up for parole. Somehow in my heart, I just knew I was going to make parole because I'd been living for Jesus. I felt like I was doing all the right things, so when the denial came back with a year set off, I just didn't understand. I started questioning God and was quite angry. It was at this time that I was transferred to another correctional facility. At the end of the church services, when the chaplain reached out for a handshake, I flinched and withdrew. He was a Spirit-filled man, and the Holy Spirit had shown him that I had been hurt. The next morning, he asked to see me. There in his office, as he asked about what had happened to me and how I was hurting, I opened up and shared for the first time in my life. Finally, out of prison and in private rehab, I started a job and was slowly getting a hold on my new life when I met Steven. I started going out with him, and we got pregnant. I remember being excited about it. As he wanted to make it right, we got married and started a family. That marked the beginning of probably the worst 17 years of my life, marked by his physical abuse and infidelity and the continuing influence of drugs and crime. He would even go on to hurt our kids, and this once sent me into a rage?I wanted to shoot him. At that moment, I heard these verses: ?Vengeance is mine, I will repay.? (Romans 12:19) and ?The Lord will fight for you? (Exodus 14:1), and that prompted me to let him go. Never a Criminal I was never able to be a criminal for long; God would just arrest me and try to get me back on track. In spite of His repeated efforts, I wasn't living for Him. I always kept God back, although I knew He was there. After a series of arrests and releases, I finally came home for good in 1996. I got back in touch with the Church and finally started building a true and sincere relationship with Jesus. The Church slowly became my life; I never really had that kind of a relationship with Jesus before. I just couldn't get enough of it because I started to see that it's not the things that I've done but who I am in Christ that's going to keep me on this road. But, the real conversion happened with Bridges to Life*. How can I Not? Even though I hadn?t been a participant in the program as an offender, being able to facilitate in those small groups was a blessing I hadn?t anticipated?one that would change my life in beautiful ways. When I heard other women and men share their stories, something clicked inside of me. It affirmed me that I was not the only one and encouraged me to show up time and again. I would be so tired and worn out from work, but I would walk into the prisons and just be rejuvenated because I knew that that was where I was supposed to be. Bridges to Life is about learning to forgive yourself; not only did helping others help me become whole, it also helped me heal?and I am still healing. First, it was my mother. She had cancer, and I brought her home; I looked after her for as long as she stayed until she passed away peacefully at my home. In 2005, my father?s cancer came back, and the doctors estimated he had at most six months. I brought him home too. Everybody told me not to take in this man after what he did to me. I asked: ?how can I not?? Jesus forgave me, and I feel that God would want me to do this. Had I chosen to hold on to the bitterness or hatred toward my parents for the abandonment and the abuse, I don't know if they would have given their lives to the Lord. Just looking back over my life, I see how Jesus kept pursuing me and trying to help me. I was so resistant to feeling what was new, and it was so easy to stay in what was comfortable, but I am grateful to Jesus that I was able to finally completely surrender to Him. He is my Savior, He is my rock, and He is my friend. I just cannot imagine a life without Jesus. * A faith-based program ministering to victims and offenders alike, focusing on the transforming power of God?s love and forgiveness l
We all wrestle with God at one point or another, but when do we really attain peace? Recently, a struggling friend told me: ?I do not even know what to pray for.? She wanted to pray but was growing weary of asking for something that was not coming. I immediately thought of Saint Peter Julian Eymard?s Eucharistic Way of Prayer. He invites us to model our prayer time after the four ends of the Mass: Adoration, Thanksgiving, Atonement, and Petition. A Better Way Prayer is more than asking, yet there are times when our needs and worries about our loved ones are so pressing that we do nothing but ask, ask, plead, and then ask some more. We might say: ?Jesus, I leave this in your hands,? but 30 seconds later, we grab it right out of His hands to explain why we need it again. We worry, fret, and lose sleep. We don?t stop asking long enough to hear what God might be trying to whisper to our weary hearts. We go around like this for a while, and God lets us. He waits for us to wear ourselves out, to realize that we are not asking Him to help us, but we are trying to tell Him how we think He needs to help us. When we grow tired of wrestling and finally surrender, we learn a better way to pray. In his letter to the Philippians, Saint Paul instructs us on how we should approach our petitions to God: ?Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.? (4:6-7) Combat the Lies Why do we worry? Why do we get anxious? Because, like Saint Peter, who stopped looking at Jesus and began to sink (Matthew 14:22-33), we too lose sight of the Truth and choose to listen to the lies. At the root of every anxious thought lies a big lie?that God will not take care of me, that whatever problem worries me now is bigger than God, that God will abandon me and forget me?that I don?t have a loving Father after all. How do we combat these lies? With the TRUTH. ?We must simplify the work of our mind by a simple and calm view of God?s truths,? reminds St. Peter Julian Eymard. What is the truth? I like Saint Mother Teresa?s answer: ?Humility is truth.? The Catechism tells us that ?humility is the foundation of prayer.? Prayer is raising our hearts and minds to God. It is a conversation, a relationship. I can?t be in a relationship with someone I do not know. When we begin our prayer with humility, we acknowledge the truth of Who God is and of who we are. We recognize that, on our own, we are nothing but sin and misery but that God has made us his children and that in Him, we can do all things (Philippians 4:13). It is that humility, that truth, that brings us to first adoration, then thanksgiving, then repentance, and finally to petition. It is the natural progression of one who is completely dependent on God. So when we don?t know what to say to God, let us bless Him and praise His name. Let us think of all the blessings and thank Him for all He has done for us. This will help us trust that this same God, who has always been with us, is still here today and is always for us through good times and difficult times.
Are you quick to judge others? Are you hesitant to help someone in need? Then, it?s time to reflect! It was?just?another?day for me. Returning from the market, weary from the day?s labor,?collecting?Roofus from the Synagogue school? However, something felt different?that day. The?wind?was whispering in my ear,?and even?the sky?was?more expressive than usual.?Commotion?from a crowd?in the streets confirmed for me that today, something was going to change. Then,?I saw Him?His body so disfigured that I?turned?Roofus away from this fearful sight. The poor boy?gripped my arm with all his might?he was?terrified. The?way?this man, well, what was left of Him, was being handled?must?mean he?had?done something?terrible. I could not?bear to?stand and watch,?but as?I began to leave,?I was seized by?a Roman?soldier. To my horror, they?commanded?me?to help this man to bear His heavy load.?I?knew this meant trouble. Despite?resisting,?they asked me to help Him. What a mess!?I did not want to?associate with a sinner.?How?humiliating! To carry a cross whilst all of them watched? I knew?there was?no escape,?though,?so I?asked?my?neighbor?Vanessa?to take Roofus home?because this trial would take a while. I?walked over?to?Him?filthy, bloody, and disfigured.? I wondered what he had done to deserve this.?Whatever?be it,?this punishment was way too?cruel. The bystanders?were yelling?out??blasphemer,???liar,??and??King of the Jews,??whilst others?were?spitting at him?and?abusing?him. I?had never been so humiliated and?mentally?tortured like this before. After taking only about ten to fifteen steps with him, he fell to the ground, face first.?For this trial to end, he needed?to get?up, so?I bent over to help him up. Then, in?his eyes, I saw something that?changed me. I saw?compassion and love? How could this be? No fear, no anger, no hatred?just love and sympathy. I?was taken aback,?whilst with those eyes, He looked at me and held my hand to get back up.?I could no longer hear or see the people around me.?As?I?held?the Cross?on?my one shoulder and?Him?on?my other,?I could only keep looking at Him.?I saw the?blood, the?wounds,?the spit,?the?dirt,?everything that?could no longer hide the divinity of His face.?Now?I?heard?only?the beating of His heart and His?labored?breathing?He was struggling, yet so?very,?very strong. Amid all the noise of the people screaming, abusing, and scurrying about, I felt?as?though He was speaking to me. Everything else?I had done till that point, good or bad, seemed?pointless. When?the Roman?soldiers?pulled?Him?from me?to drag Him to the place of?crucifixion, they?shoved me?aside,?and?I fell?to?the ground. He had to continue on His own. I lay there on the ground as people trampled over me.?I did not know what?to?do?next.?All I knew was that Iife?was never?going to be the same again. I could no longer hear the crowd but?only the?silence?and the sound of my heart beating. I was?reminded?of the?sound?of His?tender?heart. A few hours later, as I was about to get up to leave, the expressive sky from earlier began to speak. The ground beneath me shook! I?looked?ahead at the top of Calvary and saw Him, arms stretched and head bowed, for me. I?know?now?that?the blood?splattered on my garment?that day?belonged to?the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.?He cleansed me with His blood. *** *** *** This is how?I?imagine Simon of Cyrene?recalling his?experience of?the day he was asked to?help?Jesus carry the Cross to Calvary.?He had probably heard very little of Jesus till that day, but I?am very sure that?he was not?the same?person after he helped the Savior carry that?Cross. This Lenten season, Simon asks us to look into ourselves: Have we been too quick to judge people? Sometimes, we?are?too?quick?to believe?what?our?instincts tell?us about?somebody. Just like Simon, we may?let our judgments?come in the way of?helping others. Simon saw Jesus?being?scourged?and assumed that He?ought to?have done something wrong.?There might have been?times?when?we?let our presumptions about a person?come in the way of?loving?them?as?Christ?called us to. Are we hesitant to help some people? Shouldn?t we see Jesus in others and reach out to help them? Jesus asks us to love?not only our friends but also?strangers and enemies. Mother Teresa,?being the?perfect example of loving strangers,?showed us how to see the face of Jesus in everyone.?Who?better to point at for an example of?loving?enemies?than Jesus Christ Himself??He loved those who?hated him and prayed for those who persecuted him.?Like Simon, we may?feel hesitant?about?reaching out to strangers?or?enemies, but?Christ?calls?us to love our brothers and sisters?just?as?He?did. He?died for their sins as much as He died for yours. Lord Jesus, thank You for giving us the example of Simon of Cyrene, who became a great witness for following Your Way. Heavenly Father, grant us the grace to become Your witnesses by reaching out to those in need.
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