Monday, December 8, 2008

November 2008 – The still, small voice

One pleasant surprise last month came in the form of some comments on my blog. Sherry Weddell, whose radio interview first inspired me to discern my charisms, wrote some kind words, as did Kathleen Lundquist, who is also involved with the Sienna Institute. I was very happy to hear from them, even as I became more and more convinced that writing is most likely a passion of mine, but not a charismatic gift. Their contact encouraged me to continue with the discernment process, despite my slow progress.

I was also feeling better about my volunteer experiences. I had finally started working one-on-one with clients who needed help with their resumes and online job applications, and found it quite rewarding. I gained a great deal of insight into the plights of our clients, which made me even more thankful for my own cushy life. I only hoped my listening ears and meager help could bring them a little comfort, too.

But the most wonderful experience that befell me this fall was hearing the voice of God. I had been fascinated with this possibility ever since reading Dallas Willard’s book on the subject. In “Hearing God”, Willard mentions several ways that God communicates with people, from the dramatic visions and dreams, to more subtle revelations triggered by our own meditations and prayers. Willard speaks of the “still, small voice”, which he describes as “a gentle whispering … taking the form of thoughts that are our thoughts, though these thoughts are not from us.”

So one there I was in church one Sunday, and at the end of Mass, when I was least expecting anything out of the ordinary, I heard the still, small voice of God. I can’t really describe it, but I definitely knew from Whom it came. And interestingly, the message wasn’t any different than the one I’d heard more than a year earlier, when I was trying to decide whether or not to accept the early retirement offer. The message was “Reject the accumulation of wealth.”

Well, by retiring I had certainly done that, hadn’t I? So why was God telling me this now? Why wasn’t His message, “Don’t worry so much about money” or “Give more to the poor”?

All week long I pondered this message. Perhaps God was telling me that I had not rejected the accumulation of wealth just by quitting my job. I also had to give up the notion that savings we had put aside was what would see us through in our mid-life and retirement years. After more contemplation, I came to realize that it is not money that will see us through, but rather our faith in God. This, I believe, is the meaning of the words I heard in that still, small voice.

This sentiment echoed what my husband had expressed a few weeks earlier. In the wake of the stock market’s huge plummet, my past anxiety concerning our finances had resurfaced. Deep down, I was still feeling guilty about not working, and even though Terry had been very supportive, I wondered if maybe he didn’t regret my decision at times. But as we discussed the situation, I learned that this was not the case at all! In fact, Terry was quite pleased that I had been able to quit my stressful job and spend more time exploring my creative and spiritual sides. As we began to catalogue all the good things that had come about due to new lifestyle, we came to appreciate the benefits that money can’t buy.

Terry’s final admonition was that I needed to give him the job of “worrying” about money (he has always been the family’s chief financial officer, after all) and that I turn over all of my concerns about the future to the Lord. Of course, I had been trying to convince myself to do just that for more than a year. But now something was different. With the words I heard in a still, small voice, and with affirmation from my husband, something finally clicked. I was suddenly able to let go of my concern that I’d made a bad choice by retiring. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew that God would give me the grace to deal with whatever might come.

At last I felt that the peace I had been asking for was truly granted. How else was I able to get through the constant reports of our failing economy without the anxiety that had plagued me earlier? Every day I was amazed to awaken with feelings of contentment, and often excitement about the future, despite the doom and gloom swirling around me.

As the first anniversary of my retirement drew near, I reviewed all I had gone through in the past year. I like to think that I performed a vital service for my mother-in-law in her time of need, and that my efforts with St. Vincent de Paul and the Helping Place were making a difference in the lives of the poor. But whether these things were true or not, I knew that my own faith had increased and that I had grown spiritually in so many ways, and those were worthwhile ends indeed.