About 35 years ago, I worked in Admissions and Social Services at a skilled nursing facility in Vermont. Imagine everything that could go wrong in your life happening at once—that was what my patients and families were dealing with. Helping to reconfigure a sense of balance in their lives was our goal. Getting to know our patients in a deeply personal way was our honor. I feel like I am sitting with one special patient as I write this. She left an indelible impression on me that I would like to share.
Helen told me that she considered her pain and her various medical and life problems to be splinters. “Sounds small and insignificant, right?” She gave me a knowing look with her clear blue eyes, held up her useless, arthritis-gnarled hand and smiled. “I have a handful of splinters now that are trying to control my life.” She said that she had ignored some and paid attention to others while living her life, raising a family, and working in a career she liked and was good at. She retired hoping for healthy years with her husband and grandchildren but that was not to be. Her husband had died as had some of her children, and the few remaining family members lived far away. There was no self-pity in her. She was living the life she had as she had always done, doing the best she could with what she had to work with and holding onto a belief that if she woke up in the morning, there was a reason, and she would be ready.
I have thought of her often over the years as I accumulated my own assortment of splinters. In this season of Lent, my heart wants the cold, gray, and damp days to transition more quickly to the warmth that promises spring. I’m tired, and I try to resist the call of flannel sheets and a comforter. It has been a rough few years, and to be honest, I am careful not to ask, “What’s next?” I don’t want to know. I will find out soon enough.
My patient never spoke of God or prayer, and back then, I didn’t think to ask. I was living the challenges of a young mother and wife, trying to help pay the bills when there was more of them than the money in the bank to clear the ledger. I’m retired now and likely the age she was then. Thanks to the blessings of the Spiritual Exercises, I have learned over the years how to reflect and look for God in my daily life. My splinters have come from more losses than I want to count. I have come to realize that, like my patient, I would ignore them until I couldn’t, and then deal with what I had to and move on.
The Anima Christi, a prayer I learned as a child, took on a deeper meaning for me during the Exercises. The translation by David Fleming, SJ, breathed life into the long forgotten words. Now, it is helping me once again.
“On each of my dyings shed your light and your love…” Lent offers us the time and space to be honest. Consider if reading those words touches you in a way that leads you to want to ask for that light. I need it to honestly see the losses and pain of my dyings. I need his love to accompany me into that space. What have I dealt with, what do I need to deal with, and what splinters might I have caused for someone else? That is the grace I pray for this Lent. Accompanying Jesus on his road to his dyings is showing me a path to mercy. It is a compassionate journey to console him along the way, and I find that I am becoming more compassionate toward myself and others.
“On each of my dyings”… In the safety of my prayer and times with my spiritual director, I have been given the grace to broaden my understanding of loss and grief. The word “each” is very important. I am strengthened to be honest when I don’t want to be, as I labor to name the losses, big and small, and the pain they caused. Some are scarred; others are still raw. Jesus wants them all. Rather than ignore or minimize them, I hold these splinters up to the Sacred Heart. In his hands are light and love, and I need both to heal and move through and forward.
The spiritual freedom that follows is a blessing. Like all the people that Jesus healed along the way, I am learning how to see differently, how to navigate gently through the painful events of life, and I am finally letting go of burdens too long carried. Splinters are removed by God’s merciful grace, and my healing will take as long as that process requires. That is the journey.
Going Deeper
-
This Lent, we are invited to hear Jesus asking us all to lighten his burden…to “stay with Me, remain with Me…watch and pray.” Listen to the Taize prayer and notice who might come to mind, what is their pain, who needs to be accompanied in your life.
-
Sit with Jesus and pray the Anima Christi, from Hearts on Fire, Praying with Jesuits, pages 3-4. Let the lines be prompts to invite Jesus into your heart and notice and name to him your own splinters and healings.
-
Do you find yourself struggling to accept the splinters in your life? Does it distract you in prayer or separate you from God in anyway? Spend time with Gretchen Crowder’s reflection on When the Miracle Didn’t Happen.
Photo by Slashio Photography on Unsplash
Thank you!
The “Into the Deep” weekly blog is a free offering to live our mission of accompaniment. If someone forwarded this to you, please be sure to sign up at the bottom of this website page so that you receive an email each week with the new blog.
Comment!
If something our writers shared resonates with you, please feel free to write a positive and uplifting comment by scrolling down to the bottom of the page.
Support Us!
You can help support this free offering with a small monthly donation! Your recurring generosity enables us to continue building our home of accompaniment. If you would like to donate, please do so here.
Mary Ann Gessner
Mary Ann Gessner has been a regular writing contributor to the Into the Deep blog. She maintains a private spiritual direction practice for monthly spiritual direction as well as the accompaniment of people through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. She has received her formation to serve in this capacity through the Lanteri Center with the Oblates of the Virgin Mary, Milton MA.
Comments
Loading comments...
Leave a comment