Searching for and Maintaining Peace

Earlier this summer I met a woman while helping set up for a women's conference at our diocesan retreat center who I admired for how she seemed to have figured out how to live with Christ at the core from an earlier age than I did. By noticing that, I knew that there was likely a lot I could learn from her. She recommended a book by Father Jacques Philippe, Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart.

Almost three months went by, and a couple of weeks ago I was talking to another woman asking for further explanation on a comment she made because I also recognized her as seeming to be more advanced spiritually and once again the same book came up, so I decided it was time to read it.

It is a brief book at 110 pages and relatively smaller in size as compared to other books; however, it contained insight to so many of the questions that I had been pondering over the last year. Fairly early in on my process of recognizing that I needed to re-align my life to having God at the core this image resonated with me so much that I printed it out and put it on my bulletin board.

Yet, along the way, I recognized that though I was drawn to the concept, I was far from knowing how to implement it. It was relatively easy to lose my sense of peace, and I realized part of my journey would mean re-defining what peace truly means in order to then try to cultivate it. Growth on the worry-trust continuum and all the encouragement over the years I received to lean into trust laid a foundation.

This book helped me to deepen my understanding by providing new ideas to consider, an explanation to some of the processes I had completed intuitively, and overall considerations to help me to self-reflect on my spiritual growth. Divided into three parts: 1) Interior Peace, The Road to Saintliness, 2) How to React to That Which Causes Us to Lose Peace, and 3) What the Saints Tell Us, the book complemented others I previously read about Ignatian discernment (this one and this one by Fr. Gallagher and this one from LifeTeen).

I also noted and appreciated that Fr. Jacques Philippe connected his concepts to some of my favorite Scripture verses, such as God working all things for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28). In this way, it took Scripture that had been speaking to me and guiding my journey towards greater trust and provided me with further explanation of how this could lead me toward growth with maintaining peace.

It also brought up a topic that I have noticed I do not like to think about - spiritual combat. Nonetheless, the way it discussed it helped me to feel a greater sense of peace about the whole topic - not surprising given the title and intent of the book - because it contextualized the purpose in the greater journey towards heaven. For example, "Every Christian must be thoroughly convinced that his spiritual life can in no way be viewed as the quiet unfolding of an inconsequential life without any problems; rather it must be viewed as the scene of a constant and sometimes painful battle, which will not end until death -- a struggle against evil, temptation and the sin that is in him. [...] And this combat is, correctly viewed, the place of our purification, of our spiritual growth, where we learn to know ourselves in our weakness and to know God in His infinite mercy. This combat is the definitive place of our transfiguration and glorification" (p. 9). Lines like that helped me to appreciate the concept through a new lens and embrace it, rather than having a response of fear/anxiety, especially because he emphasizes that it is the Lord's strength that helps us combat these spiritual battles.

In general, this book wove together so many threads that have been on my mind about growing towards God, such as: suffering, great peace, trust, and detachment. It also provided me with some answers about tendencies to ponder the experiences of others and how that links to my own sense of peace.

I am so fortunate for these two women recommending this specific book at this specific phase of my life. Developmentally, it felt like just what I needed and that it was rich enough that I will continue to gain insights from it by re-reading in the future.

The Thief

Just like The Well, Stephanie Landsem's second book in the Living Water series, The Thief, drew me right in. While reading, I realized it would be hard to write a review about it because so much of what I love is the element of surprise, and it is challenging to share the power of the reading experience without giving away the details that would lessen the process of discovery for other readers. As a result, I will attempt to convey the experience by sharing generalities, rather than specifics.

Landsem has a way of letting readers know what one of the focal biblical links will be fairly early on, but then that element occurs part way through the book and there is still a lot more that will happen and additional less obvious layers emerge. Or, in the case of this book, there was one element that I started to expect and anticipate, and it did happen toward the end but in a way I never would have imagined that carried so much more weight, provoking a stronger emotional reaction.

I love that there is depth to her characters - that the inner tensions and conflicts in their lives are palpable. I appreciate seeing how they develop and are transformed through the course of the novel. It is powerful to see how they are irrevocably moved by recognizing aspects in others that they are drawn to (such as inner peace in great trials) but that they do not understand at all, leading them on an inquiry process to seek understanding and ultimately grow through the process. 

I have always enjoyed novels from multiple perspectives and this one switched back and forth between two main characters, being able to see glimpses into what they both understood and areas where there were gaps in their understanding of each other. This also leads to feeling more deeply connected to both vs. a sense of distance from the one whose perspective we do not see as closely. 

I am looking forward to reading the final novel in the series, The Tomb, as well as anticipating the release of the Advent version of Walk in Her Sandals with her contributions. 

The Power of Silence

I couldn't seem to keep a copy of The Power of Silence: Against the Dictatorship of Noise. I first heard about it in an Ignatius Press mailer. I was drawn to the description about the role of silence because through grieving a shift in my life and pondering why it was so hard, I realized that what I was longing for was more space for calm and silence in my life and then reflected on how I could invite more silence into the rhythms and routines of my days.

Then when I looked at the preview on Amazon and saw, "What virtue does Cardinal Sarah expect from the reading of this book? Humility" (p. 17) followed by the Litany of Humility, I instantly clicked to purchase. The Litany of Humility had also been a recent part of my journey - framing my thinking about different challenges and struggles, being able to recognize how my ego was coming into the picture and causing me to lose my sense of peace unnecessarily.

However, when the book arrived, I realized it would be the perfect going away gift for someone who was moving out of our community based on his model of spending quiet time in the church and him expressing how powerful Eucharistic Adoration had been for him, time spent contemplating our Lord in silence. He had a calming presence, and I thought he might love the book/that it would be a good fit for him. My reading would have to wait until another copy arrived.

When I was nearly finished with the book, I once again had the pull to pass it on to another person who seemed to love silence. This time it was to someone I had actually never talked to or officially met and as a result, I was shy to approach. I hesitated and went to reflect in the Adoration Chapel to capture some thinking about the daily Mass homily and thinking that when I finished, if he was still in the church, I would offer it to him. As I left the Adoration Chapel, he ended up walking out of the church into the same space. I passed the book along and realized that it would be the last time I would see him as he mentioned his visit had finished and he was leaving town that day. This time though I did not have to wait for another copy to arrive in the mail to continue reading as I had luckily noticed a little bit prior that the book was available on Formed.org. I loaded it on my Kindle and finished it.

The book is written as a series of questions from Nicolas Diat and answers from Cardinal Sarah developing into a deep consideration of the role of silence in connection to relationship with God. It focuses on how God speaks in the silence. I especially liked the book with regards to this as I have been thinking more intentionally about the awareness trying to understand God's will for my life and overall spiritual growth, and this book gave a lot of ideas to consider.

Responses are broken into smaller pieces and numbered, providing a means to note aspects of the book to revisit later for further reflection. The responses also draw in the wisdom of many others in order to show a glimpse into the previous body of literature woven in with his own thinking. Often it was apparent that responses were written specifically with priests and the religious in mind, but other times there was a more general feel, including a response that specifically addressed the role of silence in different vocations.

I know this is a book that I will want to revisit over time. I have considered I might even approach it by reading 1-2 of the numbered responses a day over a large span of time. In the book he also brings up the concept of God or nothing again and again - a concept he focused on in his earlier book by that title which is also available on Formed and has the same question and answer format with Nicolas Diat. Eventually, I would like to read that one as well.

My Husband, My Dad, and My Priest

Early on in my marriage I remember the calm of my husband's voice saying, "Paz, paz, paz," the repetition of a single word - peace - in Spanish. I can't remember the context of why I was all worked up, but I remember his soothing words.

***

"I won't be able to come this weekend," I said a couple of years later, trying to get the words out without completely falling apart. I was in my 2nd year teaching in a new community with a newborn and a four year old while my husband was in Mexico for an extended stay. Trips to my parents' house 2 hours away on weekends were my lifeline. It helped me keep it all together. 

Yet, this weekend was going to be different. As I walked out of work and heard an odd hissing sound that I later realized was a nail through my tire, the disappointment and desperation started to rise. I picked up my girls and drove home before calling my dad to explain the scenario.

"Get in the car and go to Les Schwab to fix it," he said. 

"What? I can do that. I didn't think I could drive on it." I said.

The solution was so easy, but I had not yet stopped long enough to problem solve. I had only focused on getting my girls safely home and not driving my car, thinking I would have to call someone to come to me and that it would be a lengthier process. I didn't think about how Les Schwab was not much further than I had already driven to get the girls home and that there was still plenty of air in the tire. I didn't think about how the store would take drop-ins with an immediate need. Relief set in as I realized I would be able to have it quickly resolved and continue on with my weekend plans. 

Later my dad told me, "Man, I don't know why you worry about stuff like this."

***

Almost a decade later I had grown with regards to not worrying so much. I had been able to stay calm through my computer crashing on Mother's Day right as I was completing the last transcription of my last interview for my dissertation. I was able to relax and trust in the process when we moved back closer to home without knowing whether or not our house would sell. Yet, I still had plenty of room for growth, especially with the littler day to day.  

"For every problem there is a solution," my priest would say, along with a range of other comments, such as, "I don't know how you have time to worry about this," or "These are all little things."

***

Along my journey I have realized that I can conceptualize a worry-trust continuum. If I am worrying about something, it means I am not trusting in God enough. Now when I notice my worries, I try to re-direct my mind to God. At different phases and related to different layers of life, my husband, my dad, and my priest all contributed to helping me recognize that rather than allowing my mind drift to worry, I need to keep things in perspective and turn to peace. Jesus, I trust in you.