Wednesday Witness: Learning to Surrender

Blogger’s Note: Originally published on the Saint Andrew Catholic Church and School website, July 25, 2018.

Last weekend was a whirlwind. We hosted a graduation party for our second son, Gabe, which meant that my parents, their dog, and my eldest son’s girlfriend, Becky, joined the seven of us and our dog in our three-bedroom house Friday through Sunday. The Engels—six in number, and as much family as our blood relatives—spent much of the daylight hours and a few after dark with us as well. The house was packed to the rafters and filled with laughter; the weather was wonderful, the turnout was great, and a joy was pervasive among almost everyone.

Almost everyone, except me. Continue reading

Wednesday Witness: What Are We Doing Here?

Blogger’s Note: Originally published on the Saint Andrew Catholic Church and School website, July 18, 2018.

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One of the spiritual practices I am trying to cultivate in my life these days is holy simplicity. For example, just today I finally ditched my sleek Motorola smartphone for a bulky blue flip-phone with very limited data capabilities. My smartphone had become a distraction from the things that matter—family, friends, and even strangers who are present to me in the moment—as well as a source of frustration and anxiety. I can’t remember how to get anywhere without Google Maps and at random moments through the day, I feel the phantom buzz of notifications that don’t exist. It’s too much.

So I’m trying to simplify: to limit the number and kind of things I am about and to do what I am doing. Continue reading

Wednesday Witness: Do What You Are Doing

mduv60nlydoh277fe0hd2b7yg0l.jpgBlogger’s Note: Originally published on the Saint Andrew Catholic Church and School website, July 11, 2018.

I came to Saint Andrew after leaving a great job as faith formation director at St. Michael Catholic Church to strike out on my own as a writer, speaker and evangelist. When I arrived here, my new career was not going according to plan: I had been unemployed for a couple of months and was getting up at 2:30 AM to sort packages for FedEx.

The part-time job I took here—communications, evangelization and outreach coordinator—was a godsend, and shortly afterward I drummed up enough freelance work to leave FedEx just as my spine was beginning to feel its age. My family had come through my unemployment without falling behind on bills, and I could clearly see that God was working in my life.

Then partway through last fall, the faith formation director here received a great job offer in the Cities. I, along with several others, stepped in to fill the void while we sought another director. The initial search was fruitless, and Fr. Mark began to nudge me to consider the role myself. Since I had just left a similar job at my home parish, I wasn’t particularly interested. But as my freelance project wrapped up, my bride and I began to wonder again how we would make ends meet. Jodi loved the prospect of steady, full-time income again. I told her and Father that I would pray on it.

I went to Adoration and raised the question with God. Not ten minutes in, He said to me, “Why do you think I put you there?”

He reminded me that He brought me here. He reminded me that I had the skills and experience to do the work well. And He urged me to be straight with Father about my concerns and needs.

Working here full-time has been a tremendous blessing—and as my spiritual director put it, I began to realize that God works not only in the big circumstances of our lives, but also in the details. He is placing us, moment by moment, where He wants us to be. Our job is to stay open to His plan, not to assume we know what He wants and run off on our own.

Over the past few months, however, I’ve again realized I haven’t been as open as I ought to be. This job has seemed like a safe haven from which I can plan my next endeavor while preparing Saint Andrew for a more permanent director. But each time I try to do something—anything—in addition to my work here, nothing goes according to plan. I began to wonder if God was again trying to tell me something—possibly, “Do what you are doing.”

Finally last week I had the opportunity to spend some time away. I rose early each morning to pray, read and reflect. One morning, I asked God specifically, “Am I where you want me to be?” I am currently reading a book of letters of spiritual direction from my patron, St. Francis de Sales, and that morning, I opened the book to the next letter:

Here I am writing you not knowing what to say except to tell you to continue joyfully along the heavenly path where God has placed you. I shall bless Him all my life long for the graces He has prepared for you. In exchange for this, you, on your part, should be ready to be totally abandoned to Him … Do not consider the importance of the things you do, for of themselves they are insignificant; consider only the dignity they have in being willed by God’s will, arranged by his providence, and planned according to His wisdom. In a word, if they are pleasing to God and acknowledged to be so, to whom should they be displeasing? – St. Francis de Sales to Madame Brûlart, June 1605

I choked up a bit as I read, knowing He was speaking to me through His saint. I was awash in peace knowing that He has placed me precisely where He wants me, and that He has the future well in hand.

I share this story to let you all know that I truly believe I am right where I’m supposed to be. I will be here as your director for as long as God’s good pleasure permits me to be, and we are going to do great things together. I am praying for you and your families, and I hope you will pray for me.

Loose Ends and Lessons

Blogger’s Note: This is the latest in a collection of daily posts outlining my journey to the Sacred Heart over the past year or more. See an overview and links to past posts here.

This is my twentieth post related to the Sacred Heart in twenty-one days. As I mentioned in the first one, my motivation for this series was to break into bite-size pieces what promised to be a sprawling single post about how Christ has been drawing me toward His love and mercy via His Sacred Heart (with a secondary motive of breaking through writer’s block to begin writing daily again).

The result has been bigger and more sprawling than I thought, with a longer timeline and deeper connections than expected. In this final, formal post of the series, I’ll share three last connections from along The Way. Continue reading

The Narrow Way

Blogger’s Note: This is the latest in a collection of daily posts outlining my journey to the Sacred Heart over the past year or more. See an overview and links to past posts here.

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many. How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few.” — Matthew 7:13-14

The narrow way leads ever upward, and you follow as you can. Bare rock and brambles, clefts and washouts so steep and deep you turn sideways to pass or clamber out on all fours. Feet and fingers dirt-caked and bloody; knees rubbed raw, and muscles aching, you begin to imagine the weight of the wood.

The path that left the road was barely a path at all: a crooked parting in the thistles and brush, leading up to scrub oak and pines. Emerging at last above the trees, at intervals you glimpse the road below, broad and easy, winding downward into the cool shadows of the valley; you hear snatches of ribald song, bells, and laughter.

But that was hours ago—the temptation to join the carefree throng is long past. Beyond birdsong and brooksong, the air is thin and sharp as a blade in your lungs. As the sun drops, the urge now is not to turn back, but simply to cease. Continue reading