
Be assured I will be praying for you in a very special way during these days of Christmas. I’ll be back and blogging again in January.

Be assured I will be praying for you in a very special way during these days of Christmas. I’ll be back and blogging again in January.
A few years ago, a wonderful wife and mother named Catherine came to see me.

Catherine is a loving and generous woman who has inspired the many people at her parish who know her. She constantly seeks God’s will amidst the usual and sometimes unusual challenges of married life, and puts herself at the service of the needs of her parish. But recently, she underwent a particular experience of change, accompanied by darkness: her children were growing up and leaving home and didn’t seem to need her as much; her relationship with her husband felt routine; her daily life gave her little satisfaction. At one point, Catherine confided to a friend, “I was attracted to religious life when I was younger, and being a sister is so much more peaceful and holy. Maybe I missed my vocation. What if God really called me to religious life?”
This thought that she might have “missed” her vocation was a scary one for Catherine (and for anyone serious about seeking God’s will–more on that later). However, because she still had commitments to her husband and children, it was clear that God’s will for Catherine was to continue in her vocation as a loving mother and wife. If Catherine had indeed chosen a path other than what God originally willed for her, God’s will for her at his point in her life was clear: to continue in her vocational commitments. Her doubts were almost certainly not a call to switch vocations in midlife. But at her age, repeatedly experiencing these doubts could be an important part of Catherine’s midlife journey: she may have needed to re-evaluate certain decisions and how she was living her vocation. Rather than something to discourage or scare her, Catherine could use these troubling questions as an invitation to reflect on her life, bringing them to prayer and spiritual direction.
When we talked together, I encouraged Catherine to consider these possibilities:
A) It was possible her doubts were a temptation, especially because the doubts seemed to be making Catherine lose some of her interior peace. Perhaps the devil wanted to distract this loving, goodhearted woman from her true vocation—that of being a loving mother and wife. By putting the “holier” life of a religious sister on a pedestal and entertaining doubts about her own vocational discernment, Catherine could have been letting the devil gain a foothold in her thoughts, blurring her perception of the unique beauty of her call and gradually weakening her commitment to her vocation.
Instead of allowing these doubts to distract her, Catherine could use them as an opportunity to recommit more deeply to her life of self-giving love as a mother and wife, perhaps discerning new ways in which she can express her love in her changing situation.
B) Catherine might have been going through a time of desolation where, through her doubts and longing for “more,” God was inviting her to purify her motivations and deepen how she lives her true vocation. Catherine could take time to examine how she was living her vocation and how she could grow in her call to love as a wife and mother.
C) Perhaps God was inviting Catherine to dig deeper into what attracted her about religious life. Catherine’s feelings of dissatisfaction could have been reflecting a desire placed in her by God for greater union and intimacy with him—something that she previously thought was reserved only for sisters. God could have been using her feelings of desolation to call her to a deeper spiritual life of union with him. Perhaps deep within her restless longing, God was calling Catherine to offer herself to him in a special way: for example, in a particular ministry or consecrated lay institute.
Every person’s individual experience and discernment has specific details that God uses to lead them. Catherine never shared the fruits of her prayer after we talked, but she chose to continue in her vocation of love. She is now a happily devoted grandmother.
In times of deep desolation, what can we do? St. Ignatius encourages us to be faithful to our commitments, to rekindle our prayer and our longing for God, and to wait until the Lord lifts the fog. As our time of deep desolation passes, we will gain a renewed perspective to see the beauty and potential for love, even in the suffering we are undergoing; we will be able to recognize how God is inviting us and how God makes even times of desolation bear fruit. But in the meantime…
How To Avoid Becoming Discouraged by the Darkness
When we are going through great desolation and the darkness is so intense that we really want to give up, this is the time to pull out and use the tools that our Catholic spiritual tradition—especially the tradition of discernment—have given us.
* Continue to pray—be faithful to your usual prayer time. Even if it feels like your prayer is “wasting time,” and that you’re “not getting anything out of it”, remember that times of dryness or desolation in prayer are often the times when God can do the most work in us. If you aren’t doing anything or getting anything out of your prayer, and you continue to faithfully show up and trust in God, God will take over…and work within you in ways that you cannot imagine. (And you may only recognize this afterwards, sometimes years later.) You may wish to vary your prayer if it’s dry: one day, pray the Rosary, another day simply sit quietly with the Lord in Eucharistic adoration.
* Hold fast to your convictions, and the resolutions or course of action you made when you weren’t experiencing such profound desolation. A time of deep discouragement is not usually the time to make big changes in your life. Instead, if you are overwhelmed by the challenge of staying with your convictions and way of living, make small changes in how you live your long-held convictions. Experiment with how you live your convictions, rather than giving up on your actual convictions.
* Don’t get discouraged—or at least, don’t let discouragement grip you too tightly. To gain insight on desolation and darkness, you may want to read what Saint Ignatius has to say about desolation and consolation. (I recommend Discernment of Spirits by Father Timothy Gallagher, OMV)
* Don’t be afraid of the unknown. God is already there. If you are receiving new—even uncomfortable—insights about your life, evaluate them one by one. Could these be possibilities for growth or invitations from God? If you feel your values are shifting, take time to pray with these new insights and desires so that gradually you can discern if or how to act on them. Perhaps take some time to go back to and re-visit your first real encounter with God. Remember his love for you, his invitations to you, his affirmation of who you are. Rest in his loving gaze, and renew your commitment to him, wherever he is leading you.
* Read and pray about God’s love for you and how trusting in God—who is almighty, who loves us, who is faithful—is the best choice you can make every day. Because you are in a spiritually dark or even dry place, find resources that you can read more easily. Read a favorite book of the Bible or a spiritual writer whose insights resonate with you.
* Seek advice from your spiritual director or other mentors; go back to the spiritual wisdom you have already received and have striven to live by. What does it tell you about your current situation?
* Seek support from good friends you trust who share your values, might understand your struggles, and always want what is best for you. Seeking support and comfort can strengthen us in the deep loneliness and suffering that accompanies desolation.
* Make the time to do something that you love to do, that you feel drawn to doing now. Doing something you truly enjoy can give you a place to find a break or comfort from the darkness that you are undergoing. Truly enjoying something can relax you and also give you a safe place to “process” or “connect” the pieces of what you are undergoing.
When we are going through a midlife transition or another big change in our lives—a change that means a long transition and many days of desolation and darkness—we often feel a sense of urgency to discern God’s will for us because so many things in our lives are changing and we need to make decisions about how to move forward with our lives. Yet, how do we discern God’s will for us in the midst of a big transition when it is accompanied by a sense of confusion, loss, darkness, and even desolation (as big transitions often are)?
Ignatius of Loyola, along with other saints such as Francis de Sales, counsel that in times of desolation, we should stay with our good resolutions that we made before we entered such a time of desolation. In times of great distress it is easy to give in to feelings of discouragement, to give up. It can even be easy to impulsively decide to radically change the direction of our lives because everything feels different or overwhelming.
* * *
When we pursue anything new that requires commitment, we will face multiple crises when we will reevaluate whether it’s worth pursuing. One of our culture’s most frequently used metaphors about perseverance through difficulty is sports movies. Sports films illustrate well the importance of persevering through a particular moment of failure and desolation. (The film Rudy is one of my favorites in this regard.) As the protagonist goes through their biggest moments of crises and discouragement, we root for them to continue on, because we know that the crisis is temporary, and the person can only make a good decision (discernment) when they base their decision on the entire experience, not just the discouragement and desolation they feel now.
In the film Freedom Writers (2007), first-time teacher Erin Gruwell (portrayed by Hilary Swank) chooses to teach in a tough, gang-infested school because she wants to make a real difference in the lives of troubled teens. At first, the kids in her classes ignore her entirely, the other teachers discourage her and even make it more difficult, her father pressures her to teach at a school in a safer neighborhood, and her husband wants her to spend less time with the kids and more time at home. At a certain point, it seems that Erin’s big heart and belief in these kids isn’t enough. She has to face the truth that what she’s doing in the classroom isn’t working. The temptation comes, of course, for her to give up teaching at that school, and perhaps to give up teaching altogether.
Instead, Erin digs deep. As she creatively confronts each obstacle, we cheer her on, because she doesn’t allow failure, isolation, discouragement, and desolation to overwhelm her. Although she has to adjust her attitudes and how she teaches, she doesn’t give up on these kids nor on her original purpose.
As we continue to mature (and our perspective also matures), we have the opportunity to give and nurture life in new ways. But sometimes we experience change as more of an ending than a beginning, more of a loss than a gift.
And in every big change we do lose something. Specifically in the transition of midlife, we lose or are forced to let go of certain life-giving aspects of our life that we’ve given a great deal to. Perhaps our children have all left home, and we have “empty nest” syndrome. Or perhaps we no longer have the energy it takes to run marathons. Perhaps we let go of our dream of becoming an astronaut (or ___________ ) because it’s no longer realistic.
Loss leaves a hole, and that hole can make us aware of a more pervasive emptiness within us. Missing our friends at our old job can open us up to suddenly realizing how lonely we are. From feeling the emptiness of our home after our last child has moved out, we can start wondering if our inner emptiness means that we missed our vocation in life.
Potential for New Ways of Giving Life
Although feeling empty doesn’t feel good, it is something to rejoice in—because God can only fill us if we are empty! When we feel an inner emptiness, when we recognize our insufficiency, we give God room to enter and to fill us with his gifts.
Sometimes God seems to let the emptiness grow—from a small loss to a gaping hole. It’s not that God want us to suffer. What he is really doing is letting our emptiness and longing for him build—either so that he can make us a greater gift, or so that we have the capacity to truly receive what he wants to give us.
Emptiness is a daunting feeling, but it’s actually a part of being human. We are made for God, we are made for eternal beatitude. Living in the “not yet” of life here on earth helps us to prepare our hearts to receive God more fully. Becoming aware that we are incomplete, that there are “holes” in our lives that we long to have filled, enables us to depend or “lean” more on God and to receive fully what he wants to give us.

When we experience a sense of inner emptiness, we may wish to pray with the Canticle of Philippians (2:5-11)—that celebrates Jesus’ self-emptying in order to redeem us. We might find it helpful to pray with the sentiments of the following prayer.
Prayer in Emptiness (A Kenosis Prayer)
Jesus, I come to You today empty.
I don’t feel I have anything to bring to You except my poor self.
And today, that doesn’t feel as if it’s enough.
I feel helpless and vulnerable, lost and desolate.
This sharp-edged emptiness reminds me
how dependent I truly am on You,
that I am not self-sufficient,
that I need to learn to trust You always more.
You experienced this emptiness while You were here on earth.
You let go of not just the fullness of divinity but even of the human respect You deserved,
in order to be with us, to teach us, to serve us, and to save us.
You emptied Yourself for me, so that I can offer my emptiness to You to be filled.
Divine Master, fill me with what I need most:
Your love and Your grace.
Hold me close to Your Merciful Heart
until the day that I am made whole in You,
immersed in the loving embrace of the Most Holy Trinity. Amen.
Learning To See with God’s Eyes
Whether it’s transition, gradual growth, or crisis, midlife offers wonderful opportunities to grow in doing God’s will, above all because we start to see with new eyes, with new awareness. Any time we are “shaken out of” a routine or habitual way of seeing or doing things, we become more open to hearing God’s unexpected invitations.
One characteristic of midlife is that we may become tired of doing things the way we’ve always done them. We may start reacting to things in unfamiliar ways—even ways that are the opposite of how we used to react. While earlier in life, we may have put the emphasis on “doing,” now we may feel that “being” is more important. We recognize how unrealistic our earlier high ideals are, and we become more accepting of the reality of human nature. In our 20s, we might have focused our energies on how much we’ve achieved and will achieve; now we may feel that it’s more important to focus on who we are, or becoming a better person, because accomplishment flows from who we are. We might shift our focus from being overly preoccupied with what others think of us to simply seeking to act with integrity. We might feel less patience with things that we consider nonessential, like others’ emotional drama over inconsequential things, or competitive behavior, so we simply ignore them.
The shift in our perspective might be so great that we might even feel that we’re becoming our opposite, because our new perspective is encouraging us to make new and different choices. In midlife, as at any time in life where we are facing big changes, moderation is a good basic principle and practice to keep in mind. If we can bring a discerning attitude into our new awareness, the uncertainty and excitement can help us to find new opportunities for seeking and living God’s will.
Taking Advantage of the Precious Moments of Our Lives
Midlife often brings with it strong new desires—desires that might make us feel less sure of ourselves. We can sense change within, and we might worry that certain values that had been so important to us are not as important any more. As at any time in life where we are facing big changes, moderation is a good basic principle and practice to keep in mind during midlife.
Because we are increasingly aware that our lives are finite, we may suddenly start to feel that obstacles that used to stand in our way aren’t really obstacles any more. Our thought may be: if I don’t do this now, when will I?
My shyness makes a small personal example, although I don’t know if it’s just a natural maturing process or connected to midlife.
I’m a very shy person. In the past, it was hard-to-impossible to strike up conversations with people I didn’t know. In addition, I’m a small woman raised in the suburbs who had no experience with inner-city life. So perhaps it’s understandable—although certainly not desirable—that during my first couple of years in any big city, if I was walking alone on a city street and was approached by tall, large men who seemed homeless, I would smile, say “God bless you,” and walk away as fast as I could. (I would also pray for them, but they didn’t know that.) I’d feel guilty that I didn’t stop to really talk with them, but my timidity was very strong if I was alone.
Over the years, I’ve interacted with many people “on the street.” I started to realize how deceptive appearances are. I grew in my conviction that as a sister who practices seeing others through the eyes of God, I also wanted to try to respond with God’s heart. But I still had to struggle to overcome my shyness each time. Finally, one day I was out with a friend and witnessed how fearless she was when a someone on the street asked her for money. At that moment, I thought to myself, “I don’t need to let my shyness stand in the way of real encounters with people any more. These encounters are just too precious to let my fear get in the way!”
I don’t know if that was a “midlife” change of perspective, or just a natural maturing process, but I still remember the first time it just seemed natural to stop to talk to a man who was homeless who greeted me. We chatted for about five minutes—about how he was doing and about God. As I was leaving, the man asked me, “Sister, please bless me!” I didn’t even hesitate. I can’t remember now if he bowed his head so that I could put my hands on his head, or if I simply grasped his hands. But I prayed from my heart for him. And I walked away feeling that I was blessed; that I had received more than I’d given. That evening, as I was praying over my day, I was astonished to realize that I hadn’t felt a twinge of shyness–it just felt that responding to him was the thing I was supposed to do at that moment.
My shyness is not completely gone. I still feel it at times, but fear is much less likely to stop me when I meet people for the first time. The real connection that can happen—even in a two-minute encounter on the street—is too important to miss. Ironically, now people tell me that they can’t believe that I’m shy. I’m grateful that my priorities have shifted through God’s grace and my life experience.
The time of midlife offers many opportunities for discernment. As we gain life experience, we grow in many ways and see ourselves and our lives differently. Our discernments can therefore be richer and deeper. In midlife, people may experience or receive these gifts:
As we grow in maturity and reflect on our life experience, we grow in wisdom. We know ourselves better: both our strengths and our weaknesses, and we understand human nature better. If we are growing spiritually, our capacity to love in a fuller and freer way is probably growing. As we pass the “midpoint” of our lives, we recognize the giftedness and limits of our lives: we see more clearly that we only have a certain number of years in which to change the world for the better. We might feel a greater urgency to make difference in the world, or we may wonder if we are truly fulfilling God’s mission for us. Often, we decide that we will no longer let fear or others’ opinions prevent us from saying or doing what we think is right. We may lose patience with the noise and nonsense that surround the nonessentials of life, such as: office politics, unhealthy rivalries (whether at work or in our personal lives), or doing things just for the sake of preserving reputation.
Midlife is sometimes talked about as if it’s a crisis, and it certainly can become one. As our perspective shifts in midlife, we see our lives and our responsibilities in a new light. Sometimes we can become depressed about the physical limitations that our age has or will bring, or the reality that our time here on earth no longer seems unlimited. (Recognizing the shortness of our lives can feel like a punch in the gut, even though we’ve always known this theoretically.) In midlife, our change in our point of view means we evaluate our lives differently, because we have more experience, and hopefully, more wisdom. We might look at our lives more from a spiritual perspective, rather than from the perspective of accomplishment, status, or early dreams. We may feel we have wasted our lives on nonessentials and become discouraged at what we haven’t accomplished, or that we haven’t fully lived up to our ideals.
The three big gifts of midlife mentioned above make this a rich time for discerning God’s invitations and for living God’s will more deeply and fully in our lives. These gifts—maturity, new awareness of the giftedness of our lives, and a deepening sense of what is truly important to us—shape our perspective so that we see in a new way. Less constrained by fears or conventions, we open ourselves more fully to God’s will.
What do you see as the gifts of midlife that can lead us into a deeper following of God’s will?

By Sam Garza from Los Angeles, USA (Mono Lake Serenity) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons
Discernments about making big changes in our lives, such as discerning our vocation, changing jobs, or moving across country, are best made when they are coming from a place of relative peace in our lives. This is true because we can best hear God’s invitation when we have a certain amount of serenity. For example, if our life is so chaotic that we can’t make time for prayer and we are deeply distressed and unhappy, it might be hard to discern our vocation because we cannot get past our own inner turmoil to be able to hear how God is calling us.
It’s not that our lives have to be perfect or happy for us to discern well, but the best discernments often presuppose a certain foundational security/freedom. Otherwise, we may think we are discerning, but actually we are simply trying to survive and running from our pain.
Sometimes crises include with them a call from God to make an immediate and big change in our lives. But sometimes crises are times when we need to “sort through” the meaning of the crises and its effects on our lives before we can discern making a big change in our lives.
Tragedy can include within it a call from God in which God invites us to something more. Certain difficult or painful events, like the death of a loved one, change our lives forever. We may need to take time to discover what these painful events mean for us before we can start to discern another big change. Losing a job can become a crisis when it happens in a way that’s unfair, unexpected, and financially unmanageable.
If we find ourselves in crisis, in a place of unmitigated darkness, turmoil, and chaos, God may be inviting us through this darkness to grow in our relationship with him. When we are calmer, having had some time to resolve some of the distress and immediate challenges that the crisis precipitated, we may have the focus and freedom we need to begin a larger discernment, even if we are still in a time of suffering and desolation. When we are going through a crisis or a deep spiritual darkness, a spiritual director is a valuable guide who can help us decide whether this is the time to discern a big decision in our lives, or whether it might be better to wait.
Below is a beautiful reflection that can be very helpful during a time of discouragement or desolation. This reflection is taken from a book I highly recommend: Secrets of the Spirit: Wisdom from Luis Martinez, edited and with a foreword by Germana Santos, FSP, published by Pauline Books & Media.
Another online resource you may want to check out is this article that briefly describes how Saint Ignatius of Loyola recommends dealing with desolation.

Meditation on God’s Action in Our Lives
by Servant of God Archbishop Luis Martinez
I have a special place in the thought of God. I occupy a post of honor in his heart. I am the unique object of his providence and his action. God is singularly present in my life and in my soul. God is for me a God present and hidden. Not for a single instant does the action of God fail to touch me—not only his power that preserves and moves all creatures, but more especially, his exceedingly gentle action that keeps guiding me along unknown paths toward my perfection and happiness.
I do not understand how much God loves me nor how immense, constant, and active is the love he has for me. Not for one instant does he fail to draw me toward himself with the force of his love of predilection. My life is God’s work, my life with its alternations of joy and grief, fear and hope, activity and rest, and with all its variable and innumerable circumstances. It is the fruit of his love. God foresees everything in my life, and he directs and disposes of it for my good. Only when I separate myself from him by sin does my life cease to be the fruit of his action. Yet God permits even my faults, then returns to convert me and to repair the damage caused by sin.
Beneath all external happenings, God is always present and hidden. Joy and sorrow are equally God’s messengers coming to accomplish in my soul the work of his love. They are instruments of his action, veils that cover his presence. If only I would continue to discover this God hidden in my own life! If I would always let myself be led by his gentle hand, my life would be his action, my soul, a temple, and I, a saint. – Secrets of the Spirit: Wisdom from Luis Martinez, edited & foreword by Germana Santos, FSP
A meditation for those who want to grow in trust in God’s loving care for us during our discernment…
We begin our meditation by remembering God’s power, love, and mercy for us with a short aspiration, like “God, come to my assistance!” “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Or pray to Our Blessed Mother to offer our intentions and concerns to her Son.
Begin where we are: what are we worried about?
Although I haven’t completed my discernment yet, it seems to be leading me to do something that is hard and new, something that I haven’t done before. I’m worried about how it will turn out. If I make this choice, will I be happy? What if doing this new thing is too hard, or I don’t like doing it? What if I take this “leap of faith,” but it really isn’t God’s will for me? What if something happens that I don’t expect, and it really doesn’t work out?
Confront our lives—in this case our fears—with Scripture
Psalm 62 is a powerful prayer of trust. In the Revised Standard Version, Psalm 62 is entitled: “Song of Trust in God Alone.” We prayerfully read Psalm 62 slowly, letting the words sink deep into our hearts. You can find it online in any number of translations or pull out your own Bible. Below are the first two verses.
Psalm 62
For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation.
He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall never be shaken.
Apply the Scripture to my situation
Psalm 62 lists reasons to trust in God, and also encourages us to take certain actions. What are the reasons that Psalm 62 gives for trusting God? Because…
Heart-to-Heart with God
Psalm 62 encourages us to “trust in God and pour out our hearts to him.” “Pouring out your heart” to someone is a profound act of trust. We take a few minutes to do exactly this with God: talk to God about what is happening in our life right now, including our fears and uncertainties about the future, and why we hesitate to put our future completely in his hands. We ask him for what we need most! Remembering the imagery of Psalm 62—safety, fortress, salvation—thank him for “being there” for us always. Surrender all of our concerns into his loving care. Take a few moments of silence to listen to God’s response or invitation. (If we are not sure how to pray in the silence, we can listen quietly to our heartbeat, realizing every heartbeat is God’s love in action, sustaining us.)
Pray Psalm 62 again
This time, truly pray the psalm. Which “word” or “phrase” of this psalm resonates most deeply with you? Stay with that word or phrase. You may want to note it down on a piece of paper or on your smartphone, to remember throughout the day.
Anchor for Our Day
As we come to the end of our prayer, we review it briefly. What happened during our prayer time? Has something shifted inside of us? What is our deepest desire now? We might wish to conclude by praying the “Our Father,” offering our deepest desire to God, and asking for the grace to live his will in our lives today. As we return to every day life, we take with us the word or phrase from Psalm 62 that most deeply touched us, using it as an anchor or shelter any time today that we feel worried or anxious.
Our discernments can start to go offtrack when we allow anxiety to take over. But if we are at a turning point in our lives where we might be changing directions or where we cannot see the future, it can be easy to start worrying about the uncertainty of the unknown.
One young woman who was discerning her vocation told me. “Discerning is hard. It’s like I’m trying to predict the future.”
Discernment isn’t easy, but not because it’s predicting the future. Discernment is about seeking God’s call in the present moment. While it’s true that whatever choices we make today will affect our future, the way to live in discernment is to seek to faithfully live God’s call in the present moment, taking it moment by moment.
So why do most of us, at some points in our discernment, become anxious? Why is discernment so hard?
Discernment can be hard because it requires us to trust God in a very personal way. Discernment calls us to trust…
We may think that we trust in God because we can recite an Act of Faith or the Creed. But sometimes the truths of our faith can seem theoretical or far away from us personally, even though they are not. Yes, we believe in the Incarnation. Yes, we believe in Jesus’ most holy Presence in the Eucharist. Our faith sometimes seems more like a checklist.
But do we believe that Jesus is present in the Eucharist not just for everyone else, but for me, personally? Do we believe that God will act in our lives, right here and right now, when we need him to? For many of us, that kind of trust in God has to be learned experientially.
Sometimes the best thing to do when we struggle with trusting God, especially when we feel anxious about the uncertainty of the future, is to turn our prayer into surrender, entrusting even our fears to God’s loving hands. We can more easily do this if we can focus on living the present moment. We can almost always entrust this moment and whatever we are going through to God.
The Bible is full of wonderful passages that express and help us grow in trust in God. Some of my favorites are:
If you have a favorite Scripture passage that encourages you to trust in the Lord, I’d love for you to share it below. In my next post, I’ll share a favorite psalm that is an oft-repeated prayer in my life.