I wrote this piece more than two years ago for a group of women praying and fasting together. The boy in question has gone out of my life with all my Hail Marys and I have more questions, doubts, and grudges than I did then. I'm still seeking God's plan in my life, and perhaps I need to learn wisdom from my younger self : Give up my need for knowing and let God run my dreams.
A couple weeks ago, I was at a pub. It was the last of the Theology on Tap series for the Diocese of Arlington, and the priest speaking focused on forgiveness. I had just finished with commencement weekend, three days filled with speakers and times when I had to appear attentive. Perhaps another speaker was not the best idea at the time, and anyway, while the priest was a good speaker, he did not speak to where I was in terms of forgiveness. But he did say something that stuck with me:
A priest had told him not to give anyone else free rent in his head. When we refuse to forgive someone, they have permission to stomp all over inside our heads, and what do we get from it? Nothing.
I have my own vices, but holding grudges is not one of them. So at first I thought, "There's no one with free rent in my head." Then I thought again, and realized that wasn't true. A certain boy had open-ended permission to be wherever in my mind, whenever. Not only is that not healthy, but it also isn't exactly letting God work freely in me.
It can be hard to let things go, especially dreams. But how can I ask God to work in me, when I don't leave myself open to Him?
Modifying the priest's suggestion, I began to pray a Hail Mary for the boy who lives in my head whenever I think of him. Not for me, not that he gets out of my head, but simply for him. For some reason, I find it easier to accept that God might have amazing, never-dreamed-of plans for him than for me. Praying for where God is taking him not only gives him more Hail Marys than he could dream he's getting; it also makes it easier to accept that fact that God is taking me unknown places too.
I have a hard time being okay with the unknown and the unknowable; it's the struggle I have in this fast, because the unknown takes the center stage: this unknown vocation, for which I offer its merits. And that's how God often works in my life: the beauty of the unknown.
Today, I will pray for grace in giving up the desire to know. To know the who, the what, the when of my future vocation. I will offer the graces of this fast to a man whom I do not know, but whom God does know. And the rest, I will work on leaving to God.
A priest had told him not to give anyone else free rent in his head. When we refuse to forgive someone, they have permission to stomp all over inside our heads, and what do we get from it? Nothing.
I have my own vices, but holding grudges is not one of them. So at first I thought, "There's no one with free rent in my head." Then I thought again, and realized that wasn't true. A certain boy had open-ended permission to be wherever in my mind, whenever. Not only is that not healthy, but it also isn't exactly letting God work freely in me.
It can be hard to let things go, especially dreams. But how can I ask God to work in me, when I don't leave myself open to Him?
Modifying the priest's suggestion, I began to pray a Hail Mary for the boy who lives in my head whenever I think of him. Not for me, not that he gets out of my head, but simply for him. For some reason, I find it easier to accept that God might have amazing, never-dreamed-of plans for him than for me. Praying for where God is taking him not only gives him more Hail Marys than he could dream he's getting; it also makes it easier to accept that fact that God is taking me unknown places too.
I have a hard time being okay with the unknown and the unknowable; it's the struggle I have in this fast, because the unknown takes the center stage: this unknown vocation, for which I offer its merits. And that's how God often works in my life: the beauty of the unknown.
Today, I will pray for grace in giving up the desire to know. To know the who, the what, the when of my future vocation. I will offer the graces of this fast to a man whom I do not know, but whom God does know. And the rest, I will work on leaving to God.
