The saying, “Man proposes, and God disposes” certainly seemed true last week. Having tested positive for COVID-19, I spent most of Sunday morning rescheduling commitments that had been on my calendar for months. Although everyone was very understanding, their kindness did little to mitigate my disappointment.
While fretting over my situation, something I had read during Lent came to mind, which was that when we truly accept God’s will, we are able to embrace with joy those minor irritations and suffering that are part of life. At the time, it seemed like a pretty high bar. It’s one thing to accept suffering, but to embrace it with joy? Well, that’s a whole different level of surrender.
However, as the days passed, I discovered that my week of isolation had a plus side. It allowed me to catch up on writing commitments that had been put on hold, but more importantly, it provided me with the opportunity to turn the week into a type of desert retreat.
Although I wasn’t able to attend Mass and receive Eucharist every day, having to self-quarantine allowed me to devote more time to prayer and spiritual reading, prompting me to recall another familiar saying: “When life hands you a lemon, make lemonade.”
I admit that my situation fell into the category of minor irritations rather than real suffering, and although it was an inconvenience, it actually turned out to be a blessing. Upon further reflection, I realize that the real challenge comes when a major life upheaval, that we neither cause nor can control, upends life as we know it.
We need look no further than the people in Ukraine or in any wartorn country to see what real suffering looks like. Pictures of starving children and victims of violence are part of the news cycle, which reduce my problems to petty annoyances at best.
It’s easy to talk about embracing suffering with joy when we’re sitting in the comfort of our home, but when we try to envision the suffering of so many less fortunate, I suspect most middle-class Americans fall short.
At times like this, the saying: “Bloom where you are planted” helps put things into right perspective. We will never understand why some people live their entire lives in countries where grief and suffering are daily occurrences, while others seem to live in relative peace and security. Such questions are futile, but as Christians who believe in the power of prayer, we can’t ignore them.
In response, we pray, we contribute money and we advocate for justice, but what gives me real hope for the suffering poor are the words of the psalmist, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps 34:18).
Though neither we, nor they, may see an end to suffering, Jesus tells us that it’s the poor, those who hunger and thirst, mourn and are persecuted that are truly blessed. In giving us the Beatitudes, Jesus was not glorying suffering. He was teaching us that God does not see as we see. What we esteem in this life will pass away, but the more we give of ourselves and our possessions, the more we will receive here and in the next life.
God did not create suffering any more than he created the pandemic. All suffering is a consequence of sin, but to satisfy our every inclination is to live the great lie that tells us that we are what we possess or what we accomplish. Every time we choose God’s will over our will, good over evil, we make a difference.
When we see those who suffer as part of our family and treat them with love rather than disdain, we illumine the night of sin with particles of light. I think of life on Earth as a birthing center for the Kingdom of God on Earth. All the baptized have been entrusted with the light of Christ, and all are called to share it.
Before Jesus ascended into heaven, he commissioned his followers to go forth and baptize all nations. Having endured the cross and grave, he knew how difficult the task before them would be and yet, he sent them forth to be light bearers. Many died as martyrs, singing hymns of praise to God as they went to their death – living proof that even in the midst of suffering, there is joy when Christ lights the way.
Let us pray that we never lose sight of the price that God paid for our redemption, and may we find hope and inspiration in the saints who have gone before us, not only during this Easter season, but every day of our lives.
Barbara Hughes is an author, retreat facilitator and spiritual guide. She lives in Virginia Beach and can be reached at [email protected].