How to live in Mystery amid the mundane stirs my curiosity when I read the works of Catherine of Genoa. Her words strike chords so deep. Have you experienced shimmering beauty or known profound pain that leaves you completely speechless? That’s the way I feel in response to her ponderings.
Catherine wrote from a heart that knew deep intimate union with the holy God. The more she entered that sweet union, the more her interior passion for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit grew.
“Indeed, every day I feel myself more occupied with him, and I feel a greater fire within.” – Catherine of Genoa
The Mystery That Awakens Desire
How do we live like that, where every day is more occupied with God and we feel a greater fire within? I mean, really, how do we do this and still function in the workaday world? Perhaps this might occur now and then in very small snippets. I easily think on Him, occupied solely on Him, when I am alone with my Lord in the quiet hush of dawn.
But how do I become more occupied with Him than with the bills that unexpectedly overflow? Or when dinner remains an uncooked thought and the crisis du jour is boiling over instead? What helps me think on God when a person in need comes along but I’m out of energy or in a hurry, and don’t want to be bothered? The fire that burns in me may be more of a flare of despair when I’m in the middle of a disagreement with a friend who is being most unfriendly. I’ve got some thoughts of my own in that moment. So can I say that I really want to be more occupied with God than with my agenda?
Living with Mystery in the Middle of the Mess
It is easy to think of God when I walk in the splendid beauty of the Rockies, hold a newborn grandchild, or dance in the waves at the shore. Yes, it is easy to think of Him when things are going well.
But what happens when the opposite is true? What happens when the world is caving in and all is not well? When diagnoses pile upon diagnoses, a teetering tower about to collapse, and I am hypervigilant to the what-ifs and if-onlys of life? What happens when I’m in the middle of a muddle and the Holy Trinity and I don’t see eye-to-eye? What happens when I want to keep my attachment to my momentary pleasure, more than I want to be occupied with what brings God pleasure? To be more occupied with Him requires desiring His holy ways more than my willy-nilly waverings. When suffering or selfishness rise, being more occupied with God feels hard, almost impossible.
The Journey Back to the Presence of Love
I come to these thoughts knowing I simply can’t find a way to deep communion with God all on my own. I am not an island. I need Holy Spirit to attune me to the heart of the Trinity. I need a community of Christ-followers who are safe places to disclose my wavering fears and pounding needs. I need the regular soul care of my spiritual director, who helps me stay curious about what’s off-kilter within me and what’s bubbling over with joy, joy, joy. I need inner awareness of how easy it is to not be present to the Presence of God. In that awareness, I need confession, noting how my longings often are more important to me than the longings for the Holy One. Confession offers space for forgiveness, where something profound rolls out.
In forgiveness, I hear an invitation to draw near to more of God. I am again moved to wanting to be more occupied with Him and less occupied with me. I lift my face to His face. I am lifted by the holy hands of others who also ache for Christ. I desire a holy knitting to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit that does not so easily unravel. Gazing steadfastly at Him, adoring Him more and more, slowly, ever so slowly, I no longer want all things my way all the time.
Oh to pray with Catherine of Genoa, who said, “I do not want to turn my eyes from You, O God. There I want them to stay and not move no matter what happens to me, within or without.”
Yes, this too is my desire: to stay so close to You, whatever comes. My desire is just to be yet more in the Presence of Your great love. Dear reader, may it be so for you and for me this day.
