“Would we rather have God’s gifts and troubles or God Himself and peace of mind?”

 

I have noticed of late that many people’s woes stem from ‘Needing’ what they want but not wanting what they need. It creates a lot of tension, pressure, disappointment and often broken relationships. Sometimes it seems that God gives in to the whims of His children (and sometimes not) but which is really the greater blessing? 

We can feel at times that some people are jumping the queue when it comes to blessings, that our prayers are stuck in God’s spam folder somewhere and in a spirit of false comparison we feel a bit left behind. But if you take a long view what is revealed may be quite unexpected. 

An acquaintance of mine, a prayerful man to begin with, was given the opportunity to have a business in his chosen field. He did everything in prayer, from applying for contracts, to suppliers, to staff; each meeting or letter he wrote would be under God’s guiding hand. He did well. From being an employee he was catapulted to success, multimillion Peso contracts flowed in like a river and profits with them. At what point things changed I don’t know. He acquired property, vehicles, houses, luxuries, holidays and entered into ventures without seeking God’s guidance and things started to fall apart. Bad payers squeezed the cash flow, unexpected tax bills, and his integrity in money matters was compromised. During that time, periodically he turned back to God, who bailed him out; then he would repeat his folly and back to repentance and so on. It’s an old story of lacking the character to rule the kingdom. Perhaps it’s part of his learning curve. 

Others face economic calamity, pray for a restoration of past glories and instead realise that there is a gift within losses; the discovery of the benefits of simplicity. That having God is enough of itself without being adorned with gifts and blessings to make life comfortable. 

Would we rather have God’s gifts and troubles or God Himself and peace of mind? 

Setting the prisoners free….a story from Ireland (by Padraig Caughey)

(By way of introduction,the chap in the story was a member of the IRA (Irish republican army which seeks to liberate Northern Ireland from British control ..)

In 1981, when I was 26 years old, I was captured by the British Army and thrown into Crumlin Road Jail, Belfast, in the North of Ireland. At the time I was extremely bitter and full of hate, not believing in God at all and very angry at the Catholic Church, which I considered to be pro-British.


But the years of rage and violence during the ‘Troubles’ had taken their toll on me and I was increasingly suicidal. The only thing that stopped me from killing myself at once was the knowledge that it would bring great pain to my family.


One night, as I entered my cell, I found a newspaper photo of Padre Pio, bearing his stigmata, lying on the floor. I don’t know how it got there as neither myself or my cell-mate were believers. Anyway, as I looked at the marks of the Passion on Padre Pio’s hands, I thought, “The old fool did it with a screwdriver!” But I wondered how he had never gotten blood poisoning and been caught cheating over such a long life.

That night as I was going to sleep, I said in despair, “Padre Pio, go to God, ask Him to prove to me He really exists in the space of one ‘Hail Mary,’ for if He doesn’t, I will know for certain that He does not exist and I can go ahead and kill myself.”

As soon as I said ‘Hail Mary,’ my eyes flooded with tears in rivers, for there, standing at the end of the bed in great glory, was the Mother of God herself. Extraordinary holiness, and beauty, and majesty, and motherliness and love and kindness: indescribable!!

She said, “Now you believe.” I could only nod and say, “Yes, I believe.” Then she said, “Faith without love is vain. You must forgive; do you forgive?”

Then I saw before me picture-forms of all whom I had hated, while Mary’s voice gently kept asking me, “Do you forgive, do you forgive, do you forgive, ...” as each one passed before me.

She then said, “Now is there anyone, anyone at all, to whom you bear hate?” There was no one; I forgave them all; it was as though the weight of the universe was lifted from my soul. For the first time, Mary smiled, “Now you have faith and now you have loved; now you must pray, for prayer is the food of faith. Pray, pray the Rosary,” and she held a set of beads towards me. But I was embarrassed and said, “I am sorry I have forgotten how to say them.” Then Mary said with great firmness, “I myself will teach you!”

And she was gone

Well anyway I cannot tell the joy I felt; it was as though I was reborn. I found it hard to say the rosary at first, but then I came to love it. Eventually, I ended up saying it all the time; the way Mary taught it was not at all as we prayed it as a child. It was slow and thoughtful

Well, when I left prison I entered a Cistercian Monastery for three and a half years. But I will never forget that night in prison.