Tag: Hopelessness

Looking for God’s Goodness in contemplation and prayer. James Clear, author of “Atomic Habits: Tiny Changes, Remarkable Results,” says we often overprioritize intensity over consistency, but consistency is what matters most when it comes to making progress. This practice is not intense. It can be done in literally one minute. If/when you have time for more involved practices (meditations, journaling, prayer, contemplation, whatever speaks to you), that’s awesome and worthwhile. Otherwise, something like this is a useful go-to.

We are given the gift of hope and are not meant to live in hopelessness.  So much of our suffering comes from our inability to surrender ourselves and be united and aligned with our creator.

There is nothing for us to fear except refusing God’s mercy.  When our Lord foretells His own betrayal, it is because He still loves Judas. It’s as if Jesus is saying, “I already know what you are planning to do; I know your problems, your evil intentions, your secret sins. Yet still I am here with you. Since I already know, why continue in this way? It is not too late.” And when the others heard the prediction, instead of becoming defensive and proud, they might have said: “Don’t let it be me! Lord, by your mercy sustain me! Give me your grace, Jesus, I love you!”

How often do I resist events, the situations, and the many people who come into my life each day that block my opportunity for growth? As I realize that every moment of every day is offered to me as a gift, I see my life through a different lens. I stop resisting my reality —the gift of awareness of other people, awareness of our natural surroundings, awareness of our own personal impact on creation. And in awareness comes our growth as women.

Love Poured Out

In this post from the Center for Action and Contemplation, Cynthia Bourgeault, states the heart of Jesus’ ministry is summed up in the way He radically surrenders Himself for the sake of love:  [Jesus’] idea of “dying to self” was not through inner renunciation and guarding the purity of His being, but through radically squandering everything He had and was. In life He horrified the prim and proper by dining with tax collectors and prostitutes, by telling parables about extravagant generosity, by giving His approval to acts of costly and apparently pointless sacrifice such as the woman who broke open the alabaster jar to anoint Him with precious oil; by teaching always and everywhere, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth.” John the Baptist’s disciples disapproved of Him for drinking and banqueting; the Pharisees disapproved of Him for healing on the Sabbath. But He went His way, giving Himself fully into life and death, losing Himself, squandering himself, “gambling away every gift God bestows.” It is . . . love utterly poured out, “consum’d with that which it was noursh’d by,” in the words of Shakespeare’s sonnet—that opens the gate to the Kingdom of Heaven. This is what Jesus taught and this is what He walked.  

Lately I’ve been seeing how narrow the space is between some of my thoughts. How quickly hope can turn to despair, gratitude to ingratitude, patience to impatience. A simple critical thought or a moment without love, mercy, and compassion can turn hope into hopelessness. It is a very fine line.

How well do I listen? As I grow more aware, I see the subtlety between the two voices that play out in my head. The distinction is sometimes minuscule between the two yet can have very different trajectories.