Days When You Wake Up Like This...
Occasionally when I wake up, the day's work sort of looms in front of me. Somewhat threateningly, a vague "To Do" list takes shape and presses in. Still wiping the sleep from my eyes, an urgency builds as I go through my morning routine. Struggling to focus on my prayers, barely able to concentrate on my daily reading (Scripture, doctrinal study, spiritual works), I go through the motions distracted and somewhat anxious.
Anxious? How can a Catholic start the day anxiously? Didn't I say my Morning Offering right away upon waking? And in praying thusly, wasn't I speaking to God to start the day? Yes, that's right. I was speaking to God in those few seconds of waking prayer. God, my Father, Who I know listened to every word, even when not enunciated clearly and with full concentration. I know He listened to those words and accepted the good intentions expressed. And the key intention in this wonderful prayer is to give to Him everything - everything - I encounter during the day. Yet despite my intention to give it all to God - which entails confidence that He will sort things out according to His will - I'm still feeling that nagging anxiety.
Looks like we've got a good example of a situation where just having good intentions doesn't necessarily result in good execution. On the job, if you do this enough times, you may find yourself on the unemployment line. A business typically driven by the bottom line can't afford to carry good intentions without good results. Be thankful it's not that way with God. He knows our weaknesses. As a result, intentions count for something with God.
So my feeling anxious, while it does betray a rather weak faith that God really does have it all in His hands, won't consign me to the bowels of Hell, to be sure. I suppose I feel a bit better now. But what exactly do I do with this nagging anxiety? It's still there - a burr under my saddle that's likely going to keep irritating me throughout the day.
OK. Time to switch gears. The work day's begun, burr or no burr. I'll just suck it up and forge ahead. But I won't be satisfied with my being able to work through my anxiety, kind of like the way an athlete might play through an injury. That's not good enough for us Catholics. Something's missing. Oh, right. I'll offer it up.
Once I tell God I'm offering up this suffering - and anxiety here really counts as a form of suffering - I've "super-naturalized" my work. That extra effort it takes to get the job done right, despite my nagging anxiety, raises that effort to a form of prayer. Prayer is just talking to God, and that's what I just did. I said, "Dear God, I'm offering up this anxiety." In my case, I'll likely offer it up for the poor suffering souls in purgatory.
Now the loop is closed. I started the day telling God "I offer Thee all my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings" in my Morning Offering. In a sense I continued my Morning Offering, or at least the intention of my Morning Offering, but more specifically by identifying a bit of suffering and offering it up. What can sometimes be mere words I recite upon waking now become living actions as I go through the work day.
At the end of the day, as the sun goes down, I see the light. "Days when you wake up like this" become gifts from God when you really offer them up to Him. They're opportunities for you not only to strengthen your spiritual life, but also to do good for others, in this case the Holy Souls in Purgatory.
Anxious? How can a Catholic start the day anxiously? Didn't I say my Morning Offering right away upon waking? And in praying thusly, wasn't I speaking to God to start the day? Yes, that's right. I was speaking to God in those few seconds of waking prayer. God, my Father, Who I know listened to every word, even when not enunciated clearly and with full concentration. I know He listened to those words and accepted the good intentions expressed. And the key intention in this wonderful prayer is to give to Him everything - everything - I encounter during the day. Yet despite my intention to give it all to God - which entails confidence that He will sort things out according to His will - I'm still feeling that nagging anxiety.
Looks like we've got a good example of a situation where just having good intentions doesn't necessarily result in good execution. On the job, if you do this enough times, you may find yourself on the unemployment line. A business typically driven by the bottom line can't afford to carry good intentions without good results. Be thankful it's not that way with God. He knows our weaknesses. As a result, intentions count for something with God.
So my feeling anxious, while it does betray a rather weak faith that God really does have it all in His hands, won't consign me to the bowels of Hell, to be sure. I suppose I feel a bit better now. But what exactly do I do with this nagging anxiety? It's still there - a burr under my saddle that's likely going to keep irritating me throughout the day.
OK. Time to switch gears. The work day's begun, burr or no burr. I'll just suck it up and forge ahead. But I won't be satisfied with my being able to work through my anxiety, kind of like the way an athlete might play through an injury. That's not good enough for us Catholics. Something's missing. Oh, right. I'll offer it up.
Once I tell God I'm offering up this suffering - and anxiety here really counts as a form of suffering - I've "super-naturalized" my work. That extra effort it takes to get the job done right, despite my nagging anxiety, raises that effort to a form of prayer. Prayer is just talking to God, and that's what I just did. I said, "Dear God, I'm offering up this anxiety." In my case, I'll likely offer it up for the poor suffering souls in purgatory.
Now the loop is closed. I started the day telling God "I offer Thee all my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings" in my Morning Offering. In a sense I continued my Morning Offering, or at least the intention of my Morning Offering, but more specifically by identifying a bit of suffering and offering it up. What can sometimes be mere words I recite upon waking now become living actions as I go through the work day.
At the end of the day, as the sun goes down, I see the light. "Days when you wake up like this" become gifts from God when you really offer them up to Him. They're opportunities for you not only to strengthen your spiritual life, but also to do good for others, in this case the Holy Souls in Purgatory.
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