Holly Gustafson, Author at Regnum Christi

Come, Holy Spirit: A Simplified Version

May 14, 2024 / APP News Feed, Regnum Christi News

With the Feast of Pentecost fast approaching, the daily Gospel readings have been trending towards all things Spirit-related: Jesus has been consistently preparing his apostles not only for his Ascension, but also for the arrival of this mysterious Spirit to follow.

And the Holy Spirit is a bit of a mystery. Jesus we can picture (despite how inaccurate that image might be), and at least we have a basic understanding of the concept of a Father, since all of us have one, in some form or other. But comprehending the Spirit is tricky.

I understand how important it is to call upon the Holy Spirit – for comfort, for guidance, for renewal – because Jesus says so. He even goes so far as to say that the arrival of the Spirit will be even better than his own physical presence on earth: “But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you.” (John 16: 7). I can only imagine the apostles’ confusion, and perhaps scepticism; after all, what could possibly be better than having the living Christ in their midst?

And so, despite the ethereal nature of the Holy Spirit, whom I cannot touch, or picture, or really even compare to any human relationship I might have, I try to remember to call upon his help. I frequently recite the Come, Holy Spirit prayer, particularly before I read the Gospel, or when I’m in a situation without a clear solution:

Come, Holy Spirit,

Fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created, and you shall renew the face of the earth.

O God, by the light of the Holy Spirit, you have taught the hearts of your faithful. In the same Spirit, help us to know what is truly right and always rejoice in his consolation.

We ask this through Christ our Lord,

Amen.

But sometimes, if I’m tired or not being attentive or not in the mood, that prayer just starts to sound like a lot of words strung together in my head, without much meaning, and certainly without much intentionality in truly calling on the comforting guidance of the Holy Spirit. That’s when I go back, and re-pray, this time speaking only the verbs:

Holy Spirit:

Come.

Fill me.

Enkindle me.

Create in me.

Renew me.

Enlighten me.

Teach me.

Console me.

I don’t know if this helps me at all to comprehend the incomprehensible, or grasp the intangible, but breaking the prayer down into its simplest form does seem to help my human brain and my fumbling faith make a little more sense of the Mystery.

Holy Spirit, Come.

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What Would Mary Do: Maternal Advice for When You’re Obsessing

May 7, 2024 / APP News Feed, Regnum Christi News

Recently, I had a fairly negative encounter that terribly hurt my feelings (which, I’ll be the first to admit, are very fragile and easily injured), and I replayed the entire thing over and over in my head until I’d nearly driven myself crazy. How could they say that? How could they think that? How could they do that? Only after I had lost plenty of sleep and wasted way too much time obsessing about what had happened did I finally pause and seek Christ’s guidance. And He immediately pointed me to His mother and invited me to ask, what would she do? I knew immediately that whatever the answer was, it was probably pretty close to the exact opposite of what I had been doing, and exactly what I needed.

She’d respond with humility.

Mary was perfect, so she was never at fault, but I’m human enough to admit that I, on the other hand, am not perfect and, unfortunately, I make a ton of mistakes. And while I’m in the midst of madly spiralling over some perceived slight, or defending myself from what appear to be total falsehoods, it never hurts to take a step back and ask myself: is there any truth in this? Most times, if I’m humble enough to admit it, I can see how I may have played a role in the situation or misunderstanding – even in a small or unintentional way – and I can take simple steps to make things right, or at least better.

She wouldn’t try to fix things on her own.

When I’m in the middle of a negative situation, I always want to take control and make it all okay. Maybe if I send the perfectly worded text, or come up with the best comeback, or do just the right thing, I’ll make everything magically better, or at least bring about my own version of justice. But that wasn’t Mary’s way – she never relied on herself. At the wedding at Cana, she didn’t go off in search of more wine or attempt to take control; she knew that transformation was not within her power or control – for that, she always turned to her Son. “When we are powerless, let us be quiet and let God act,” says Father Jacques Philippe. The best way to fix things is to be still, pray, and let God do the work. (But be ready to run and fill a bunch of jugs with water if that’s what He asks.)

She’d surrender.

Surrendering to the will of God was Mary’s special gift, but to me, it doesn’t come so easily. When I’m especially upset, worried, or obsessing about something, it’s really hard to let it go, even in prayer. That’s when I pray a surrendering rosary, during which time I do not allow myself to think about the thing that’s been taking up all my mental bandwidth. As soon as I catch myself thinking about the concern or worrying situation, I simply wave the thought away, and return to my Hail Marys. It might happen a dozen times, or as many times as there are beads on a rosary, but it’s an intentional and active act of surrender, and calls me continually away from myself – and the thing that’s got me all worked up – and towards Christ in the mysteries.

What Would Mary Do: Maternal Advice for When You’re Obsessing Read More »

How to Overcome Pray-er’s Block

April 23, 2024 / APP News Feed, Regnum Christi News

Daily prayer has been dry for me lately. Every day, I read my Gospel. Every day, I pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and enlighten me. And every day, at least lately, I feel neither inspired nor enlightened. But also lately, I’ve been realizing that the important thing about praying every day is not the inspiration or enlightenment. The important thing is the every day.

While palpable divine enlightenment would really hit the spot right about now, there’s something to be said for showing up to the Gospel on a regular basis, whether you come away feeling enlightened or not. As a writer, I read a lot about writing, by people who do it consistently and well. One of my favorite authors on the subject is Julia Cameron, who’s made a career out of inspiring people to overcome obstacles – usually ones they’ve placed in their own path – and become the writers they want to be. A lot of her advice on how to overcome writer’s block (that dryness that takes away your ability to write) started sounding particularly adaptable to addressing what I’ve been experiencing recently in prayer (a dryness that convinces me it’s useless to pray). Here’s some of Cameron’s advice on writing, which I’ve adapted to apply to persevering in prayer (in most cases, I’ve just substituted the word “write” for “pray”):

Don’t wait until you feel like praying.

“One thing I know about [praying] is that you do not have to be in the mood to do it.”

If I prayed only when I was in the mood to do so, I’d end up going a long time between prayers. I have to just do it anyways, whether I feel like it or not. “It is a luxury to be in the mood to [pray],” says Cameron (of writing, of course). “It’s a blessing but it’s not a necessity.” She insists that writing, even excellent writing, can be done without the benefit of feeling inspired, and I suggest that praying can be done without the same benefit. “The sheer act of [praying] is the only antidote” to not feeling like praying. Just do it.

Listen more than you speak.

“When… I struggle to [pray], it is because I am trying to speak… rather than listen.”

Cameron insists that “writing is about getting something down, not about thinking something up.” I need to constantly remind myself that prayer is not an act of self-enlightenment; I am not required to think up something inspiring, entirely on my own, that will get me through the rest of the day. All that is required of me is that I be silent.

Use the time you’ve got.

“The trick to finding time [to pray] is to make time [to pray] in the life you’ve got.”

With a family of seven, alone time is hard to find (and pandemic-triggered school closures and work-from-home mandates certainly haven’t helped). “One of the biggest myths around writing is that in order to do it, we must have great swathes of uninterrupted time,” says Cameron, and this belief that I needed a decent chunk of uninterrupted time in order to pray well has, in the past, kept me from praying at all. “The myth that we must have ‘time’ – more time – in order to [pray] is a myth that keeps us from using the time we do have,” says Cameron. “If we are forever yearning for ‘more’, we are forever discounting what is offered.” Don’t wait for the time to be perfect in order to pray – instead, pray in the time you’ve got.

Be honest.

“Telling the truth… always takes you deeper.”

Cameron says that any time she’s stuck on a piece of writing, unable to move forward, she asks herself: “Am I failing to tell the truth? Is there something I am not saying, something I am afraid to say?” Prayer, like writing (according to Cameron), takes emotional courage – the courage to be honest with God, and say “I’m fearful” or “I’m disappointed” or “I’m not in the mood to pray today.” “It is almost impossible to be honest and boring at the same time,” says Cameron, so being brutally honest with God seems like a good way to inject some life into a prayer life that’s feeling dry and boring.

Pray regularly.

“[Praying], when we let ourselves do it, is like breathing. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It need only be regular and steady.”

I try not to be constantly dissatisfied with my prayer life, but when I’m not careful, I can feel disappointed. Disappointed that my prayer life these days doesn’t feel inspired, or transformative, or even halfway good. In fact, the only thing I can say about my prayer life right now is that it’s consistent. And that, I guess, is more than enough, for now.

Unfortunately, I know that none of these suggestions will transform my prayer life into the awe-inspiring, life-changing experience I’m craving these days. But that’s not my goal, or my responsibility, or even within my power. All I can do is just show up, and know that that’s enough.

All quotes come from The Right to Write: An Invitation and Initiation into the Writing Life, by Julia Cameron.

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Hope for Control Freaks: Two Biblical Images to Help You Surrender in Prayer

April 9, 2024 / APP News Feed, Blog, Regnum Christi News

There are a lot of words I might use to describe my approach to prayer over the years. Sometimes I’ve been faithful and persevering. Sometimes I’ve been unfocused and fickle.

I’ve been sometimes devoted, often demanding, occasionally attentive, and frequently distracted. But in general, if I had to choose one word to describe my past attitude towards prayer, I would say it was purposeful.

Purposeful prayer does not initially sound like a bad thing. Purposeful prayer sounds persistent and decisive; it’s prayer that knows what it wants and strives to attain it. And this was precisely the problem. I was approaching God in prayer with both the problem and the solution, and reading the Gospel already knowing the message I wanted (and thought I needed) to hear. It was as though my prayer was simply me saying “Here’s the situation, God, and here’s how I think You should handle it”. Or “Don’t worry, God, I’ve got this. You just sit there and listen.”

The trick is: how do I approach prayer with less self-driven purpose, setting aside all my presumptions about what I think I need and what I think God wants to say to me, and instead come to prayer with an attitude of surrender?

Because I’m a visual person, images often give me inspiration, provide something on which to center my thoughts, and help me to focus. Here are two images that I call to mind in order to help me surrender in prayer. If you’re someone who likes to be in control of everything, including your relationship with God, they might help you take first steps to letting go:

The Lifted Lamb

“For He is our God, and we are the people of His pasture, and the sheep of His hand. O that today you would hearken to His voice, harden not your hearts!” Psalm 95:7

One of my favourite images of surrender to God is the lost lamb. In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells us the parable of the shepherd who, having lost one of his sheep, will leave the ninety-nine to go after the one that is lost, until he finds it. “And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing.”

The little lost sheep does nothing in this parable. He does not actively seek his shepherd; he is merely found. And when he is found, he does not even actively follow the shepherd on his own; he merely allows himself to be lifted up onto the shoulders of the shepherd, to be carried. The sheep does nothing but consent to be lifted up.

I realized that I was approaching prayer as the one doing all the seeking, all the leading, and, most importantly, all the talking. The first change I made in my prayer life was to be quiet. The image of the lost lamb – sought, found, and lifted up – helped me to approach prayer with an attitude of silence instead of speaking, of trusting God enough to know that I don’t have to scramble to make myself, my concerns, and my intentions known. In silence, I consent to stop leading, and instead allow myself to be found and lifted up by God.

The Melted Wax

“Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm.” Song of Songs 8:6

As I was reading The Interior Castle, St. Teresa of Avila provided me with another image with which to open my prayer: the melted seal. Teresa uses this metaphor to describe the ideal state of the soul in regard to God’s will: we are to be like wax when a seal is impressed upon it. The wax does not impress itself with the seal, she explains, but is merely soft. And the wax doesn’t even soften itself; “it merely remains quiet and consenting.”

Imagining myself as wax, willing to be softened of my hardened habits, and prepared to be impressed with His seal is another helpful tool in learning to surrender myself in prayer, and ultimately to God’s will. “All You want is our will,” says St. Teresa, “and ask that Thy wax may offer no impediment.”

Instead of approaching prayer with a set of problems (and possible solutions from which God may choose!), I tried simply to soften myself to His will, and set aside my need to control both my life, and my prayer. While I’d love to come away from prayer each day feeling like all my problems will get solved if I follow a precise God-given, Spirit-inspired action plan, I’ve finally realized that that’s not the point. Prayer isn’t about gaining control of my day, my life, and my soul. It’s about surrendering that control to a God Who will do a much better job of it all anyways.

Hope for Control Freaks: Two Biblical Images to Help You Surrender in Prayer Read More »

Lenten Resolutions to Improve Your Relationship With Food

March 19, 2024 / APP News Feed, Blog, Regnum Christi News

“It’s complicated.”

That’s how I’d describe my relationship with food. And let’s face it: living in this body- and beauty-focused world can be tough on the old self-image. On any given day, you can probably find me wishing I were thinner or fitter, or wondering if I should be hopping on the newest fad diet. And it’s easy for me to only see food as “good” or “bad,” as something to control (or else be controlled by), instead of what it is truly meant to be: nourishment.

If you’re like me, and longing to re-establish a healthy and uncomplicated relationship with food, here are some things I’ll be trying this Lent. Choose one resolution from each category, and approach Lent as the season of healing that it is meant to be.

Fast…

…from mindless eating

Eat intentionally, by not doing anything else (like working, watching TV, or scrolling through your phone) while you eat. Don’t eat standing up; always set the table or place when you eat, even when you’re eating alone. Eat when you’re hungry, and not when you’re not, paying attention to your body’s cues that you’ve had enough.

…from needing to see “results”

“Our progress has nothing to do with the body, which is the thing that matters least,” says St. Teresa of Avila. Focus on fidelity to your Lenten resolution, and not the physical fruits it might produce, by ditching the scale, and even tucking your full-length mirror away in the closet.

…from food that won’t give you the added benefit of weight loss

If you like the idea of traditional fasting from food, but fear you will focus more on the physical benefits of fasting than on the spiritual, fast from food items that won’t cause you to lost weight (like artificial sweeteners, salt and pepper, or ice in your drinks).

Pray…

…grace at every meal (and snack!)

Get in the custom of praying before every meal, even if it’s just a midday coffee or a small evening snack. Build the habit of gratitude for every bite.

…the Word of God daily

“Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4). Remember that your daily prayer is the greatest nourishment you will receive each day, and make extra time and effort to contemplate the Gospels this Lent.

…for virtue

Instead of focusing on being thin, or even fit and healthy, which in itself does not necessarily make us more available to God’s love and mercy, concentrate on the virtues. Pray for detachment from the bad habits you might be clinging to, self-mastery over your passions, fortitude in the face of temptation, and temperance in all things.

Give…

…time, food, or money to the hungry

Spend time this Lent around people who might not have the privilege of overeating, eating according to a specific diet, or being picky about what they eat by volunteering at a soup kitchen or donating to a food bank.

…a meal to someone in need

Once a week, deliver a meal to a person or a family in need, like an elderly neighbour who lives alone, or a family with a brand new baby.

…your time

Make a point to meet someone for coffee, invite a family for brunch or supper, or have friends over for drinks once a week, acknowledging that food is meant to nurture relationships as much as it’s meant to nourish our bodies.

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Lenten Resolutions for Your Mental Health

March 12, 2024 / Blog, Regnum Christi News

Several years ago I went through a long bout of anxiety (you can read about it here). While I’m feeling much better now, I know that my anxiety is something that needs to be continuously managed, and my mental health must be continuously maintained. During that period when Lent came around, I focused on resolutions that will nurtured both my spiritual and mental health, and drew me closer to God, the only true source of peace. Here’s what I did:

1. Consistent prayer

St. John Chrysostom called prayer “a place of refuge for every worry” and “a foundation for cheerfulness.” Most years, I make a plan for a daily prayer routine to follow during Lent. In this case, it included a novena or simple prayer to St. Dymphna, patron saint of mental health.

2. Walking outside every day, rain or shine (or snow)

Walking – especially outside – is great for your mental health, but it can also be a sacrifice, especially on the Canadian prairies; the season of Lent is usually a cold one here, and leaving my cozy couch is an act of mortification in itself! But I know it’s good for my mental and physical health to get outside, and good for my soul to offer up something I don’t always feel like doing.

3. Reading peace

Father Jacques Philippe’s Searching for and Maintaining Peace is a lovely little tome full of great advice, like “nourish your own heart and return it to peace by gazing with love on Jesus,” and “Abandon yourself anyway!” I’ve never read Hallie Lord’s book On the Other Side of Fear: How I Found Peace, but it sounds like it might be a good fit too.

4. Focusing on others

“Joy, with peace, is the sister of charity,” said Padre Pio. “Serve the Lord with laughter.” If I want to feel more joy and peace, I need only love and serve more. I came up with a concrete plan on how to serve others, particularly my family, with selflessness, cheerfulness and charity. “The soul of the one who serves always swims with joy,” said St. John of the Cross, and that promise of joy sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

If these resolutions aren’t fitting the bill, you might try:

Lenten Resolutions to Improve Your Relationship with Food

Lenten Resolutions for Your Marriage

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Lenten Resolutions When You Have Relationships in Need of Healing

March 5, 2024 / Blog, Regnum Christi News

I consider myself a pretty likeable person, but it’s only because my vanity makes it so reasonably unpleasant to be disliked. Over the years, I’ve had to work on my disordered desire to choose peace and people-pleasing over walking courageously through the conflict. I’d much rather concede than fight if it means that the relationships in my life will be easy, serene, and tension-free.

I’ve pretty much succeeded at my goal of being likeable, even if at times it has meant being unhealthily agreeable… until recently. Despite all my best efforts, I am, indeed, disliked. And for a peace-craving, people-pleaser like me, that is extremely uncomfortable.

Christ, of course, had it much worse than me – he was hated literally to death. My feeling mildly uncomfortable because someone is less than enamored with me doesn’t seem to qualify as walking in the footsteps of Christ, experiencing His rejection, and uniting with His suffering, but I know by the way He has accompanied me through this discomfort that His love and mercy are meant for this space in my life. There is healing waiting for me here.

Wounded relationships take as many forms as there are reasons to be hurt; whatever yours might be (a suffering marriage, a conflict-riddled relationship, or strained family ties), there is healing to be had. The healing might not look like you or I want it to (a perfect resolution, peace, and everyone happy in the end), but I know that Christ wants to heal me here, in a way according to His perfect, peace-filled will. And I’m going to be spending this Lent offering up the brokenness, and the wounds that it has created, for healing, however that may look.

Here are some resolutions to unite a broken or hurting relationship to Christ throughout your Lenten journey this year:

Pray the Litany of Humility

I have a love-hate relationship with the Litany of Humility. It’s such a beautiful prayer, but oh so painful to pray sometimes. “From the desire of being loved, preferred and approved, free me, Jesus. From the fear of being despised, ridiculed, and suspected, free me, Jesus.” Praying this prayer reveals to me just how strong my desire to be loved and my fear of being rejected truly is, and yet, at the same time, it offers me freedom from both.

Pray for the ones who have hurt you.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:44 to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Make a concrete plan (a daily rosary, for example) to pray for the good of those with whom you have a complicated or wounded relationship.

Unite your sufferings with Jesus.

Reflect specifically on Christ’s experiences of rejection: the betrayal by Judas, the loneliness of the Cross, the denial of Peter. Read the Passion, pray the stations, or recite the rosary seeking unity with Christ in the experiences and mysteries that reflect His being hated, rejected, and abandoned. He wishes to pour out healing there.

Reach out, if it’s possible.

Over the past year, I’ve come to the uncomfortable conclusion that not all relationships are within my power to fix, despite the emotional acrobatics I’ve put myself through trying. Some wounds require boundaries and distance that only prayer can cross. But if it’s within your power to do something towards healing, do it this Lent. Make the phone call, arrange the meeting, give the long-overdue embrace; ask Christ how He wants you to participate in the healing of the brokenness in your own life.

If you’re blessed enough not to need these resolutions, you might be interested in:

Lenten Resolutions for Your Mental Health

Lenten Resolutions to Improve Your Relationship With Food

Lenten Resolutions for Your Marriage

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Virtue of the Month – March “Now. Here. This.”: The Virtue of Presence

March 1, 2024 / Blog, Regnum Christi News

As a parent, I’ve developed some unique talents. I can disassemble and pack up a snare drum practice pad in the time between when my son remembers that it’s band lesson day and when the bus arrives at our door (about 18 seconds). I can coordinate a weekend soccer schedule of three children playing on six different teams (and I’ve only shown up to a game with the wrong child once!). I can get a week’s worth of groceries for a family of seven during a single modern dance class. And I can tune a fiddle in a noisy ballet studio hallway. It’s a busy, busy life stage (that period when everyone’s in a thousand activities, but no one can drive themselves), but I’ve become pretty good at making every minute count.

Being a busy parent has made me very efficient at going and doing and getting things done, but over time, it’s made me pretty lousy at just being present.

I’ve been noticing that in all the different areas of my life, I struggle to be fully present in the moment; instead, I’m constantly demanding of myself what more or what else I should be doing. When it comes to my family and its busy schedule, I’ve got the virtues of Orderliness, Purposefulness, and Good Use of Time mastered, but the virtue that I really need to work on is the Virtue of Presence.

“Presence is about being one’s self for someone else; it is refusing the temptation to withdraw mentally and emotionally, but it is also an occasion for putting our own body’s weight and shape alongside the neighbour, the friend, the lover.” – James McClendon

If you, like me, struggle to pause once in a while in the chaos of a busy family life, here are some ways to practice the Virtue of Presence with your family, your neighbour, and with God.

The Hour(s) of Presence

We’ve got a pretty strict rule of not allowing phones at the dinner table. One day, my youngest daughter and I made a trip to the dollar store where she chose a basket that would house our phones during our meals, and since then she’s been unyieldingly firm in enforcing the law. However, lately I’ve been challenging myself to extend this half hour of Presence that we impose during mealtime. Could I set aside my phone and my projects when the children tumble into the house, home from school, hungry and tired and sometimes even wanting to talk? And what about after supper, when we’re all tempted to go our separate ways, withdrawing into our rooms or our screens? The habit of being truly present to each other during dinnertime is a great start towards the virtue of Presence, and the best part is, it makes me long for more.

Presence in the Blank Spaces

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I’ve become one of those people who can’t stand to be doing nothing. Even when I’m in the grocery store express line, I’ll use the thirty or so seconds between the time I put my items on the conveyor belt and the time it’s my turn to pay to quickly check my texts and emails. I carry a book with me whenever I pick up the kids from soccer, just in case I might have to face the agony of having nothing to do for three minutes before practice is over. I often catch myself walking while scrolling through my phone; I read while I blow-dry my hair. Every single minute is filled right up.

And yet I am fully aware that if I fill up every minute, there’s no space for anything – or anybody – else; after all, it’s in the empty spaces between the seemingly more important transactions when meaningful encounters truly occur. In the empty spaces, I notice the tired mother in the check out line, who looks like she needs an encouraging smile. In the empty spaces, I chat with a new parent in front of the school, and find out that he is recently widowed. In the empty spaces, I make myself available for an encounter with my neighbour, and make myself open to the Ministry of Presence.

As tempting as it is to fill the empty seconds and minutes with something – anything! – to do, I know that God needs me so save some space for an encounter with my neighbour. Perhaps it is Taylor Swift who said it best: “I’ve got a blank space, baby, and I’ll write your name.”

“Now. Here. This.”

This habit that I’ve developed as a parent, of staying and keeping efficiently busy, hasn’t had a positive impact on my prayer life. If there was ever a time when I excelled at sitting tranquilly and patiently in contemplation, those days are long behind me. Now when I sit to pray, I have to fight the urge to check my calendar, make up a to-do list, or simply let my active mind wander. The famous three words of Thomas Merton are especially appropriate and helpful in moments of distraction in prayer. “Now. Here. This.” I repeat these words, to myself and to God, to draw me back into this present moment, this present place, this present gift.

Monthly Virtue Resolution:

Practise the Virtue of Presence in one area of your life this month. Whether it’s your interactions with your family, friends or colleagues, with strangers in the checkout line, or with God in prayer, try to give each encounter your undivided, undistracted attention.

Monthly Motto: “Now. Here. This.”

Virtue of the Month – March “Now. Here. This.”: The Virtue of Presence Read More »

Halt Your Mind in the Truth: How to Pray in a Time of Worry

February 27, 2024 / Blog, Regnum Christi News

“Pray, hope, and don’t worry.” – St. Pio of Pietrelcina

Easy for you to say, Padre Pio. Me, I’ve been doing a lot of all three lately, and if I’m being honest with myself, there have been many moments when the amount of worry has exceeded both the prayer and the hope. It’s sometimes hard to pray with hope in worrying times.

Padre Pio, the twentieth-century stigmatic priest who lived through two world wars, and a global pandemic (the Spanish Flu) must have understood this. And yet he has the faith to say “Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer.”

Unfortunately, sometimes it feels like my prayer is just me verbalizing my anxiety these days, or worse, I find myself not even being able to focus on prayer over the distraction of worry. Not good, says Padre Pio.

“The reason you cannot meditate,” he says, “is mainly because you begin to meditate with anxiety, in search of something to gladden your spirit.” He’s right – I bring my anxiety to my prayer with the expectation of being consoled and relieved, which is fine, but according to Padre Pio, “this is not enough to find what you seek.”

According to Padre Pio, we must go one step further: “The only remedy I know of is to abandon anxiety.”

Once again, this is easier said than done, but Padre Pio gives us some solid advice: “Halt your mind in the truth about which you are meditating.”

For me, “halting my mind” means that I try to take a moment to stop the swirling worry and sit in the truth that God is, ultimately, Hope. I read the Gospel, and I enter in, as best I can, abandoning anxiety, and clinging to the truth that Christ is Emmanuel – God with us – then, today, and always. I halt my mind, take a breath, and try to remember Padre Pio’s words to pray, hope, and let go of worry, at least for a while.

Halt Your Mind in the Truth: How to Pray in a Time of Worry Read More »

Holly Gustafson

Alex Kucera

Atlanta