A month or so ago, I was in the confessional with my associate pastor, reciting the litany of sins I had committed and eager for some advice. At the time, the biggest issue I was struggling with was a lack of peace. Most things in my life were good, if not great, but so many situations outside my control — news and politics especially — were invading my serenity.
After confessing my sins, I sat back and waited for what my priest had to say. And it’s something I’ve thought about many times since that confession.
In short, he told me that when the devil can’t get us to mess up big time, he does anything he can to steal our peace. Not only does it get under our skin, but living without peace is an easy road to sin, especially anger and despair. Check and check.
There are a million and one things that can steal our peace in our world today. But we can’t let the devil win. While we may not be able to change the exterior events that threaten our serenity, we can change how we react. We can choose to look at the world through a lens of gratitude versus a lens of scarcity.
As we approach the Thanksgiving season, platitudes about gratitude are everywhere. Now, don’t get me wrong: I love some good fall decor encouraging a thankful heart. But as much as there has been a push for gratitude in recent years, I still think we are missing the mark. Because the gratitude our culture preaches only brushes the surface of the depths of gratitude our faith presents.
And it is precisely the lens that my faith provides that I am most grateful for, because even when the world feels like it’s crumbling, even when the noise of the world is deafening, God is here.
So, when the world and the devil try to get me down, I cling to the truth my faith preaches, the truth I’ve experienced:
-
-
- When I see negative comments online, I remember the people who make it their mission to affirm the good in others and proclaim the goodness of God.
- When I see more headlines about sexual abuse by clergy — past or present — I recall the witness of priests willing to lay down their lives for the Church: priests who have made me feel seen in the confessional; priests who have shown me a deep love for their vocation through their abundant joy; priests who have shown new layers of reverence for Christ in the Eucharist; priests who have invested in the people of God, even those who are not their own parishioners.
- When I see disunity in the world and the Church, I remember that certain saints always didn’t see eye to eye (Peter and Paul, anyone?), but God used them in their brokenness and imperfections to bring about the Church we know today.
- When I feel alone, I turn to the Lord in prayer, knowing he is always with me. (A quick Divine Mercy Chaplet in the middle of the day is a great pick-me-up.) And when I still feel alone, I remind myself that there is a cloud of witnesses who have gone through trials of their own and who are now interceding for me and the world from their place in the glory of heaven.
- When I am tempted to despair about the state of the world, I remember that God can use all things for his good, if only we will cooperate with his grace. Even more, I remember that this life is passing, that we are made for more than this world.
-
Yes, this world is passing away. It’s always been that way. We are simply blessed to experience a small lifetime on this earth, a lifetime during which we are invited to glorify and get to know our God. Because the biggest thing we can be grateful for is God himself and the hope he has given us: that we may one day be with him in heaven.
So, don’t let the devil trick you into surrendering your peace. Cling to he who is the Prince of Peace, and cultivate a heart that, even on the most difficult days, sees his goodness everywhere.
Ava Lalor is assistant editor for Our Sunday Visitor and editor for Radiant magazine.
