Willing to Bend

As I awoke a few days ago, feeling particularly tired and unprepared to face a new week, I looked around at what seemed a mountain I must climb. The piles of laundry, sink full of dishes, and a mess everywhere I looked. Just three days ago this house was perfect top to bottom, how could it not stay that way...and so it goes with a family I guess.

While these “trials” are ultimately insignificant and relatively unimportant in the scheme of life, it so often seems, as least to me, that it is even the small everyday things, chores, and annoyances can take us off track, discourage us, and even lead us away from the Lord when we are least expecting it.

As I mustered the courage to shake it off and get moving, after a cup of coffee and some morning prayer time, I still felt frustration. A desire for complete perfection, which often tempts me, began to disillusion me and I felt a sense of anger welling up inside; over something as silly as having the house just the way I wanted it. How can learn to face the big things in life if the small things keep holding me back?

It was then that I felt an interruption from the Holy Spirit, reminding me that this “perfection” that I so often desire, is ultimately a desire for Heaven, a completion in eternity with Christ. However, in my imperfect and sinful ways, this “perfection” often gets misplaced and degenerates into a controlling ego-centric beast looking to devour any and all that get in her way.

I quickly realized that Christ never promised us complete fulfillment on earth. There is no perfect career, perfect home, or even perfect family. Perfection only comes in Him, and in life, we are tested by fire. Perhaps the flames come from a burning bonfire as through tragedy and severe physical or mental suffering. However, it can also come through the small “brush fires” of everyday life that can quickly spread and burn an entire village if not contained through prayer and complete surrender to God.

As I thought about Christ asking me to continually bend and change, through life’s fires and storms, I asked myself this question, “What is that I am made of?”

Here is what I found, I am often floating back and forth between three entities:

A Marble Statue:
In my desire for constant perfection I can distance myself from God and actually convince myself, either through indifference or self-righteousness, that I have and will reach perfection on my own. The beauty and grandeur of a marble statue is impressive, seemingly perfect, but fleeting. As one looks closer you will find a cold, austere being that no one can seem to penetrate. Often the remedy requires, through humility, some careful chiseling from Christ, or in some instances a jackhammer for a complete overhaul.

A Mud Pie:
Without proper hydration, i.e. the Living Water of Christ, I can often become hardened and cracked. And while unlike marble, as a mud pie I can be prone to self-pity, doubt, resentment, or even anger, because let’s face it, I’m acting like a mud pie. Besides kids in the backyard thinking it’s the best thing ever...mud pies don’t exactly attract anyone else and can be prone to a hardening that could be irreversible if left unattended. A fossil of my own self-pity...leaving me far from Christ.

A Sponge:
While seemingly attractive because I can soak in many things as a sponge, my porous nation can be equally harmful without the gift of discernment and wisdom to guard against unwanted or harmful substances. As a sponge I oftentimes fluctuate frequently from being over loaded with moisture (i.e. busy activity, overcomitted, constant communication, etc.) which leads me to “ringing myself out” and becoming overly dry, and again hardened. In my “spongy” moments I find myself always gripping for the next thing, hardly ever staying on track, and never reaching a consistent prayer life or solid relationship with Christ and His Church.

Content as Clay:
I have concluded then, that my best bet is to be content to be clay. While at first glance, clay, usually a neutral unassuming color may seem dull and mundane, it is one of the most pliable and flexible substances known on earth. It can be easily kneaded, pulled and stretched as much as the Artist deems necessary. In order to become it’s ultimate creation, a beautiful piece of pottery or handmade art, it must be molded again and again and then placed in the fire. In the end, this willingness and eagerness to bend is what allows clay to become the work of art it’s Creator intended it to be.

How then can I return from marble, mud, or as a sponge to a flexible servant for the Lord?

During Advent, in this time of penance and prayerful anticipation, let us examine our conscience with greater care and diligence. Let us look at ourselves honestly and see what we are made of and ask ourselves if this substance is something that allows Christ to work and move in us. As we await the most joyous event in our calendar year, the Incarnation of our Lord and King, let us turn back to the precious Babe in the manger and come home to Him through penance and Reconciliation.

What a joyful reunion awaits us this Christmas when in purity and meekness of heart we are intimately united to Christ through the gift of the Eucharist! Let us be as soft as clay Lord, so that during this Christmas and New Year we are ready to bend at your will, be stretched as necessary, and coming running when you beckon.

Marilisa Carney