It’s so easy to want nothing but a good life here on earth. We want our happiness. We want things to go well. We want our plans to work out. And that’s all good. But what happens when they don’t?

In our deepest pain, especially in suffering like I am experiencing where the pain is prolonged, its nice to know that its not all about this life. If your suffering is the kind that changes your life forever, and you don’t like the way its changed, its quite a comfort to realize that there is something more and better waiting for you.

I know it sounds so negative to say, but sometimes its true. Sometimes this life just sucks. And that’s when we long for Heaven.

Like a lot of the other things I’ve talked about that we learn from suffering, Heaven is never as important to us as when we don’t like what’s going on in our lives on Earth.

Yet, we’re made for Heaven. We just don’t always realize it–until we are forced to. When you think about it that way, you can kind of see why God allows us to suffer, to turn our eyes to Him! And not just to Him, but to eternity with Him! I am going to be honest–this has always been a weak point of my faith. I always felt like for as long as I have been a Christian, I should have a more Heavenly perspective! But I get too caught up in this earthly life. I don’t remember the bigger picture. I’m not always comforted by the knowledge that there is more than this life. That’s a problem. But this suffering, that has just knocked me off my feet, has made me say, “Thank you Lord, that there is more than this life.”

See how we get on our path to sainthood? If we long for Heaven then we begin to strive for Heaven. We walk with steadfastness and purpose on the path of holiness.

Or as Steven Curtis Chapman wrote:

But I had no way of knowing
Just how hard this journey could be.
Cause the valleys are deeper
And the mountains are steeper than I ever would have dreamed.

But I know we’re gonna make it.
And I know we’re gonna get there soon.
And I know sometimes it feels like we’re going the wrong way,
But its just the long way home.

(Long Way Home) From the album Re:Creation

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In a blog about saints and suffering, I knew I had to deal with patron saint of those in pain and suffering–Padre Pio.

But I confess, I’m finding it difficult. Its not difficult because I don’t know that much about him and therefore don’t know what to say–it’s because I know so much about him, and there are so many amazing things about him, that it’s hard to express it. So I’m counting on you to help me out!!

I’ll say this:

He was an extraordinary example of suffering as he endured the daily stigmata, literal attacks from the devil, skepticisms and criticisms, and a lot of unwanted attention.

As if this wasn’t enough, he added to his Cross, by eating and sleeping very little, and hearing confessions for sometimes up to 19 hours a day.

But he embraced suffering. Why? Because he understood its purpose–its value. Here are a couple of his many quotes on suffering:

“In order to  attract us, the Lord grants us many graces that we believe can easily obtain Heaven for us. We do not know, however, that in order to grow, we need hard bread: the cross, humiliation, trials and denials.”

Or this:

  “Jesus said to me; ‘How many times would you have abandoned Me, my son, if I had not crucified you. Beneath the cross, one learns love, and I do not give this to everyone, but only to those souls who are dearest to Me.”

So let me open it up to you. What is it about Padre Pio that speaks to  you, inspires you?

When we get to that place in our life–the place of intense suffering, we begin to ask different questions. We live day to day in the sense of being in survival mode–we take one day at a time and feel accomplishment at having survived it. But in another way, we are looking beyond the business of our day to day lives. We aren’t asking, “what am I making for dinner?” and “how can I coordinate getting two kids to practice tonight?”

We are asking, “Why is this happening? What does God want from me? How will my life change now?”

And even bigger questions, “What is the point of suffering? What is the point of life? What matters most?”

But its not the asking that moves us and changes us. It’s learning the answers. Well, not so much learning the answers, but accepting them.

For example, I wish the answer to the question, “why are we here?” was to be happy. But that’s not the answer. The answer is to learn to love God or as the old Baltimore Catechism says, “to know, love and serve God in this life so I can be happy with Him forever in the next life.” What that means is this life is all about perfecting our love for God and well . . .  . chances are that’s not going to happen by us being happy all the time. I’m going to point out again–I’m not saying God doesn’t want us to be happy but what He wants more is for us to be in Heaven with Him.

Now some questions are too big for us to understand on earth–like, “Why is this happening?” If we are lucky we may get a glimpse of that someday. But we may not. And we have to accept that too.

But its just something about asking that moves us from the mundane . . .makes us remember in a more than casual way that there is more to this life. It makes us want to know what that is.  It makes us remember that God is there. And that we need Him.

We need Him because we need answers. And only He has them.  And when we begin to see life as more than our day to day busyness, we remember what we are here for.

Heaven.

Heaven. And remembering that is another step on our path to sainthood.

I was thinking today about when I read St. Francis de Sales’ book, Finding God’s Will for You. I was remembering  a part that had stood out to me: he was saying how when we really become good at wanting only God’s will for us, that we don’t care what it is. So if He says, begin this project, we begin it. And if He says abandon this project, we abandon it. Simple as that.

I think that passage struck me so much because I am so far from that ideal. I want what I want. But suffering . . .well a lot of time its the loss of something we want. Often times, its the loss of something that we even thought we needed. Oftentimes all we want in our suffering is for things to go back the way they were.

But we don’t get that.

And because we can’t go back, only forward, we have to detach from these powerful wants. For me, the life the lies ahead is so not the life I wanted. But suffering often doesn’t give us choices. Looking back only keeps me stuck in the pain. Ok, Lord, I don’t think I am ever going to want it . . .help me to accept it.

And so we take a deep breath and begin to accept and when we do that, we begin to detach. I think its a pretty slow process.

I heard once that the one thing we want most of all is the one thing that God will take from us. Because if we kept it, we would replace Him with it. If that’s true, then our most powerful wants are always the ones we have to let go of and if we can let go of that, then we lose the most powerful attachments.

Our attachments to earthly things is what keeps us from following God’s will. And maybe He has to pry them from our hands because we would never let them go on our own.

That’s what’s been so hard for me in my own suffering. I trust that God could make me ok but I don’t want to be ok. I want Him to fix the situation–not me. I want the future I have planned and not the future He has planned. Really, it is just a lack of faith–it’s like I am saying that my plan was better.  I have to let go.  It’s like that trust game that you play where you close your eyes and fall backwards and you trust your friend will catch you. That’s exactly how I feel–I realized that I have to be willing to close my eyes and just fall and trust that God is going to catch me.

And maybe for some, its knowing that if we can walk with God through this storm, we can trust Him to walk us through anything.

Heard Father Larry Richards talking about Abraham today so I looked up the story. When God called him, what did he say? He said, “Ready!” (Genesis 22:1)  even though he had no idea what God was going to ask him.

Ready.

I am ready for anything you would ask of me, Lord. I am ready to go wherever, do whatever, be whatever. Ready.

And when God told him to go sacrifice his only son through whom God had promised to bring about many generations, whom God describes as the one “whom you love”  what did he say? Nothing.

Nothing. He just went and began to do what God commanded.

He trusted God completely that what God promised would come true even if it didn’t make any sense to him.

Detachment.

The things that helped me:

We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we have faith to believe

‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise. (Laura Story Blessings) From the album Blessings

 

And where are you God
Cuz I am finding life to be
So much harder than I had planned
Know that I am afraid
To  ask these questions
But You know  they are there
And if you know my heart
The way that I believe you  do
You know that I believe in  You

Still I have these  questions
Like How could you  God
How could You be so good and  strong
And make a world that can be  so painful
And where were you  God
I know you had to be right  there
I know you never turn your  head
You know that I’m  confused
By all this  mystery
You know I get  afraid
But if you know my  heart
As completely as I trust you  do
Oh you know that I trust in  you

Is it true that fore every tear I cry
You cry a thousand more
Cuz  you weep for those that weep  (Steven Curtis Chapman Questions) From the album Beauty Will Rise

Is there anything aside of suffering that works to break those powerful attachments?

It’s  not just me is it? I mean when things are going well, I do make an effort to pray. I schedule my prayer time, my reflection time, my Rosary time . . .and I do my best to stick with it.

But when things are going really bad, I am always praying. Seriously. Suffering gives meaning to that Bible verse, Pray without ceasing (1 Thes. 5:17). I am storming Heaven, spending  more time in Adoration (as much as little kids allow!), lighting candles, doing novenas, begging saints . . .and on and on. Prayer becomes a part of my fabric, almost a part of my being. And I certainly become reliant on it to get through the day. There are moments, do you know these moments, where prayer is the only thing that gets you through the day–through that minute, through that wave of pain. I pray as soon as I wake up. I lie in bed and pray. And when I have trouble sleeping because of all the painful thoughts, I say the Rosary.

And when you’re praying more, something else happens. You are listening to God more. Something about the suffering makes us open ourselves up more. I think its because we are going along our merry way and all of a sudden we have our feet knocked out from under us. And you are lying there, thinking, . .

“Did I have it all wrong?”

Well there is only One who can answer that question for you.

And so we need to start the conversation. We start by crying out, by praying. And then we ask the questions. I think when we suffer, we really want to know the answers. We have been stripped down to nothing. Sometimes it is like a starting over. You don’t want to end up back at the suffering, so you cry out. And you listen. “Tell me how to do this Lord. Tell me how to find my way through this.” And then, because we don’t want it to be in vain, “Tell me what you want me to learn from this.”

That’s the real gut response. And I think that God more than respects that. I think He says, “See? That’s what I wanted from you all along–honest feeling, honest listening.”

And that’s why prayer, probably the first step we take in our suffering on our road to sainthood, moves us. Because what happens when you talk to someone and when you listen to someone? Your relationship deepens. So here we are, finally really willing to listen, and to bring our lives more in line with God’s will, not trying to force His will to conform to our lives. It’s the suffering, the having nothing to lose, that puts us there.

What do you think? Have you ever been stripped down to that place of  crying out in prayer?

Or do you have any suggestions of prayers for the suffering?

This is not the blog post I had ready for today.

But today, I had to do something I really didn’t want to do.  And because of that I got to see God’s hand. Here is what happened:

My suffering had been highlighted today, so I decided to drive to a parish that was near where I was. They don’t have perpetual adoration but I figured I could just sit in the church and pray for a few minutes. However when I get there the Blessed Sacrament was exposed!  That was my first moment of God’s blessing.

Then as I went to walk into the sanctuary, I grabbed the big glass door and a reflection caught my eye. It was the picture on the wall behind me. It was the picture.

I had seen this picture at St. Raphael’s bookstore (http://www.saintraphaelcenter.com/bookstore.html)  . . .a painting of Jesus’ face. It looks like it came from the movie, Jesus of Nazareth. And I have always planned to buy it for my living room someday Jesus looks so tender, so compassionate.

So I stood in front of the picture and I remembered when I was on a retreat a few weeks ago, staring at another picture of Jesus and praying . . .Let me see myself through your eyes. Let me see this through your eyes. I said that prayer again looking into the eyes of Jesus.

I went into Adoration. I sat in the back of the church and quietly cried for a while. Then I rifled through the information in front of me and there was the prayer to St. Michael. I prayed that and felt a little stronger.

I wrote this in my notebook to remind myself that on this day of suffering for me, God did not let me feel alone:

God indeed is my savior; I am confident and unafraid. My strength and my courage is the LORD, and he has been my savior. (Isaiah 12:2)

I fell to my knees–as you do when you are leaving the Blessed Sacrament. Bent to the ground, crying, I had a vision of myself standing up, rising up. God was saying, “OK. When you stand up, stand up tall.” I said, “OK.”

I stood up. Straight. Tall.

As I left the church, I prayed the same prayer in front of Jesus’ face again. I walked out and said again, “OK.”  Over and over again. It was a moment of telling God I was going to accept whatever would happen now.

These were very small things, maybe too small for anyone else to even appreciate. But it was enough. It was enough to get me through this hard day.

So why am I sharing this you? What does it have to do with my theme of how suffering makes us saints? Well, its because God is always around us, with us whispering to us that He is there. Do we remember to pay attention when we are not suffering?

Also its a reminder that God wants to comfort us in our suffering. Comforting us does not mean removing the pain, but just reminding us that He is there, that He is in control.

When we don’t suffer, we don’t get a chance to see His comfort which is such a powerful reminder of His love. Seeing God’s hand move increases our Faith!

So today is a day to stand up tall.

Helen’s husband abandoned her with a small child.

Rita’s husband was abusive.

Therese was in terrible health all of her short adult life.

Francis never had a dime to his name.

John was harassed by the devil.

Pio had terrible physical wounds and endured skepticism about who he was.

Sebastian was left to die, nursed back to health, only to be killed again later.

What do all these people have in common? They were all saints.

Does suffering happen to them because they have the ability to be saints? No,  I think suffering makes saints.

I began thinking about suffering lately as my own life has been turned upside down. In the midst of  intense personal suffering, so personal I am not quite ready to talk about it yet, I began to see–that if I could endure this well, if I could let it teach me and mold me, that it was the path to sainthood.

Why does suffering make us holy?

1. we pray more.
2. Since most suffering involves some kind of loss, we become less attached to “the things of this world.”
3. We begin to ask the big questions about life.
4. We long for Heaven.
5. We figure out what is truly important.
6. We learn the difference between what we want and what we need.
7. We ask God what He wants from us.
8. We begin to understand our total dependence on God.
9. It shows us how weak our faith is–and what areas of faith we need to grow in.
10. We see our imperfections more clearly.

In posts to come, I will reflect on each of these points in depth as well as reflect on specific saints and what they can teach us in their suffering.

Don’t misunderstand; I’m not saying that God wants us to suffer or that He doesn’t want us to be happy. I think He does, but what He wants more than our happiness is for us to be in Heaven in with Him. And if suffering is the path that gets us there, then He will allow us to endure it.  I suspect most people are less in tune, less interested in God when they are happy. And the saints . . .they are happy with their suffering!

I’m being very idealistic of course and believe me, the truth is I only want sainthood on my good days–and those aren’t that many. Most days, I just want it all to go away, to get better.

But we don’t get to choose whether or not to suffer. Usually,  we don’t get to choose how we suffer. But looking at the saints can show us how to make the best of it. As Catholics, we believe in the communion of saints. What that means is, we are not alone. Heaven is full of people who understand our suffering; People who care about us, people who will pray with us and intercede for us and can comfort us!

Here is what I will say about my current suffering:

It has changed the whole course of my life.

It is more pain than I even knew was possible to experience.

The grief is incredibly deep, so much so that while I can recognize beauty and joy, I cannot feel it.

It has caused me to question everything–and reflect on everything–and that’s what I’m hoping you can benefit from. Our own suffering comes in many intensities and paths. But it is all so real to us.

Does thinking about what the saints endured help you in your suffering? Do you want to be a saint?