God's Providence

Because of the snow and cold, scheduled adoration was cancelled for Monday night, but (at least temporarily) the chapel has a tabernacle in it, and the nearby burning red light indicates Jesus is present there.  And MY schedule is to come to be in His Presence on Monday nights.

As I drove up I could see the tabernacle there in the lighted chapel.  Last week (for a different reason) scheduled adoration was also cancelled on Monday (Is God testing my resolve?), and when I came to my midnight hours then the chapel was cold --- VERY cold.  And tonight??  The walkway to the chapel door was not shoveled; some drifts were a bit high.  This seemed not a good sign.  Entering, the temperature didn’t seem that much warmer than the outside --- uh-oh, again?  I began my Monday night prayers with the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary and, as sometimes happens, I became lost in the meditations, on events Mary was facing, and on Jesus’ ways of speaking and entering my life.

In recent weeks I and some of my friends have been facing trials, things beyond our control.  Temptations range from despair to somehow changing our lives or actions to somehow make things better.  But much of our life is not ours to change, but to live through, and trust there is a reason.  Trust, especially in dark times, is hard, but it is like a learned habit; it gets easier with use.  As I read the First Joyful Mystery meditations, The Angel Appearing to Mary, I heard in my mind Mary’s response in a way I would typically state it, to something beyond her control: “You want me to do what?!!”  And then I saw her habits taking over, and I reflected on how she likely came to bear this life-changing news, and then say: “Thy will be done.” 

And then I read the last line of my meditations: I trust in You.

And at that instant, I heard the heat kick on in the chapel; it would not be cold anymore.  And now, a bit later as I write this at one in the morning, someone has come outside the chapel, and I hear the engine roar as he blows the snow from the walkways.  And my path wouldn’t be blocked anymore.

Sometimes we need to remind ourselves of things, of Mary’s trials, of Jesus’ trials --- and promises --- and of how they still today explain our trials.  So, I guess this is a good day to re-print all those Joyful Mystery meditations, which I wrote about ten years ago, as I went through my trials of beginning to care for my mom, trials which truly changed my life, and helped me to grow in trust.

Perhaps these reflections may be of benefit for you also.  

The Joyful Mysteries

1.      The Annunciation of the Angel to Mary

-  This is what I’d have you do: listen for My Will; resolve to do it.  No matter how hard.
-  Can God really be calling to me?
-  Full of grace – Me??  Lord, I am not worthy.
-  How can I do this.  This will cause me shame, embarrassment, deep sacrifice or pain,
    public humiliation.  Do You want this?

      -  Do not be afraid.
      -  No one who sees me will understand.  They’ll talk; they’ll laugh.
      -  Who am I to question.  Any sacrifice You ask will be more than repaid.
      -  Thy will be done.
      -  In this I find joy. 

-  I trust in You.

2.      The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth
-  I am not alone.
-  As I care for others, I am caring for You.  And You will care for me.
-  All my Blessings of health, wealth, family, friends – You gave to me because You love me.
-  All I have I offer back.
-  You bring me great joy, more than anything earthly can bring.
-  You stir within me; You will always be there.
-  My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
-  I am blessed; He has done great things for me.
-  You give me courage to go on; life is good.
-  In this I find Joy.

3.      The Birth of Our Lord
-  Sad, lonely, afraid.  I want to do Your will, but it is so hard – or rather, I am so weak.
-  Does anyone understand my pain?  Are You there?
-  Sometimes it is difficult to accept comfort, even from those closest to me.  It hurts.
-  Thank You that so many difficulties are beyond my control.  If I had to choose to bear
    them, I might have failed.
-  For Thy Will, I accept my pains and sorrows.  I know You will bring good out of them.
-  Out of great sorrow will come great joy – even if I cannot understand it now.
-  When others come to see the Joy, may they see You.  My pains will be my joy, if they
    bring You to others.
-  That You may grow, and I decrease.
-  All Your life, all my life, to do the will of Our Father.
-  In this I find Joy.

4.      The Presentation of Baby Jesus in the Temple
-  I must publicly proclaim the Lord, and celebrate His goodness to me.
-  His Church and rituals are important.
-  I will learn from His family and friends.  He will show me the Way.
-  He will strengthen me in my trials.
-  He will not leave me alone.
-  I can always hear His words proclaimed; He will speak to me.
-  In my fear, I can always go to His presence.
-  His friends teach me His ways.  I must seek them out to know Him.
-  I offer my life to You.
-  In this I find Joy.

5.       The Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple
-  When He seems far away, I am the one lost.  I must seek Him.
-  He always waits in His Church.  Waits for me.
-  No matter how long I’ve been gone, He still loves me.
-  No matter how much in pain, He can still wipe away my tears.
-  He waits to hug me.  He waits to love me.
-  I can always go home.  I can always see Him again
-  If I am to do His will, I must seek Him, all my life.
-  He wants my life for Him; I want His Life for me.
-  My Jesus I Trust In You!
-  In this I find great Joy.

- - - - - - - - - -

Later, in my Evening Prayers, I also read Eph 1:3-10, which seemed to summarize it all, as did the prayer at the end of Meditation 58 in the Divine Intimacy book.  And Spurgeon’s Sermon XII in Volume 2 --- the next chapter on my daily readings of his sermons, was on God’s Providence and he explained Ez 1:15-19, which was my concluding reading for the evening.  It was totally filled with insights (ones I needed right now) which I never could have seen in those words on my own, from this preacher who died before I was born.

This was a very grace-filled evening.