Where I Was Meant to Be

Father Pedro Arrupe, S.J.

Some days have a way of holding more than one emotion at the same time. Yesterday was one of those days for me.

For months, I had known the beatification of Blessed Fulton J. Sheen was coming. As someone who has spent time learning about his life, writing about him, and developing an even greater appreciation for his witness, I knew it would be a meaningful day. I also knew I wouldn't be there in person.

Still, when yesterday finally arrived and I began seeing pictures from friends who were there, I felt something I hadn't quite expected. I was extremely jealous. Not in a way that took away from how happy I was for them. I loved seeing their pictures and hearing about what they were experiencing. But there was also a little ache in knowing that this beautiful and historic moment was happening and I was watching it from hundreds of miles away.

So I kept EWTN on throughout the day. It became the background to my Thursday, allowing me to catch pieces of the celebration and feel connected in some small way. But as the day unfolded, I began to realize there was something rather fitting about where I would spend part of the evening.

Somewhere Else

Because I knew I wouldn't be able to attend the beatification, I had volunteered to help with Women Adoring Jesus, an event at my parish. I served on the planning committee, and the evening included Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, Confession, a talk on prayer by Father Luke, and time afterward for refreshments and conversation. About 50 women came.

As I sat in the church during Adoration, there was still a part of me thinking about everything that had happened earlier in the day. I thought about my friends who had been there for the beatification. I thought about Blessed Fulton Sheen. Then the connection hit me. Here I was wishing I could have been there to celebrate a man who had built his life around showing up before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and I was sitting before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

I couldn't help but smile at that. Maybe I didn't need to be anywhere else.

Learning to Just Be

Father Luke's talk last night was about prayer, but what stayed with me wasn't a new method or a list of things I should be doing. It was almost the opposite. He talked about opening our hearts to God's presence and learning how to simply spend time with Him, to “waste time” with God.

That phrase stayed with me because I am not particularly good at wasting time. I like to know what I'm accomplishing. I like checking things off lists. There always seems to be something that needs my attention, and sometimes I carry that same mentality into prayer. Am I concentrating enough? Am I saying the right things? Should I be reading something? Should I be getting something out of this? Suddenly, even sitting quietly with Jesus can become another thing I am trying to accomplish.

Father's words invited me to think about prayer differently. What if I didn't have to accomplish anything? What if I could just be there?

He spoke about Mary and her willingness to receive. There was something about that word, receive, that caught my attention. Receiving requires a different posture than doing. It means allowing myself to stop long enough to recognize that I don't have to earn what God wants to give me.

A Prayer I Keep Coming Back To

At one point, Father offered a very simple prayer: “Lord, help me to know how much You love me.”

I wrote it down. There is something about that prayer that feels both simple and incredibly difficult. It is one thing to know intellectually that God loves me. It is another thing entirely to allow that truth to reach all the places inside of me that aren't always convinced.

Maybe sometimes the more honest prayer is, Lord, I want to believe You love me, but there is a part of me that struggles with that. Maybe I don't have to fix that part before I bring it to Him. I can simply bring it.

Father also shared a few lines attributed to Jesuit Father Pedro Arrupe about falling in love with God: “Fall in Love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.”

I've heard those words before, but they sounded different to me yesterday, maybe because I was sitting there thinking about Blessed Fulton Sheen. What makes someone return to a chapel every day for a Holy Hour? Discipline certainly matters. Commitment matters. But I wonder if, underneath all of that, there is something much simpler: love.

Maybe Sheen kept showing up because somewhere along the way, that hour stopped being merely something he did and became time spent with Someone he loved. That thought has stayed with me.

What Happens in the Silence?

Father Luke also mentioned Pope Benedict XVI's 2012 World Communications Day message and his reflections on silence and communication. That immediately caught my attention because communication has been such a large part of my professional and academic life. We usually think communication requires words. Someone speaks, someone listens, and information is exchanged.

But Father asked a question I haven't stopped thinking about: What kind of communication happens in silence?

I thought about sitting before the Blessed Sacrament. Sometimes silence feels uncomfortable because I want to fill it. I want to say another prayer, read another page, or give my mind something to do. But perhaps silence doesn't always need to be filled.

Father described it as an awareness of the “even more.” I loved that. There is always more happening than I can see, more than I can understand, and more than I can put into words. Maybe silence gives me enough room to notice that.

Not Where I Expected to Be

When I woke up yesterday morning, part of me wished I were somewhere else. I wanted to be there for the beatification. I wanted to celebrate with my friends. I wanted to experience that moment firsthand.

By the end of the evening, though, I found myself thinking about the strange beauty of how the day had unfolded. I had spent the day watching Blessed Fulton Sheen's beatification from a distance, and then I ended it sitting before the same Jesus Sheen had chosen to sit before every day.

There was no grand spiritual moment or sudden revelation. Mostly, there was just quiet. Maybe that was the point. I didn't have to understand everything. I didn't have to produce anything. I didn't even have to know exactly what to say. I just had to show up.

Lord, here I am.

Those words feel different to me today. Maybe some days, that really is enough. While I still wish I could have been there yesterday, I'm beginning to appreciate where I was instead.