Catholic Motherhood – This Catholic Family: Catholic Womanhood, Family, and Conversion

Lorelei Savaryn ponders the power of the words “so that” in being open to the movement of God in the midst of human struggle.

This past year, I have walked through a number of struggles that at times were rife with uncertainty and confusion. It has been tempting at times to emotionally distance myself from God because, for me at least, it is easier to be happy with God when things are going well on the whole than it is when I’m being asked to navigate some kind of storm. Difficult times make it easy to call into question God’s goodness, or God’s involvement in my life, much more than the easy times do.

But the truth is, at any given moment, most of us must coexist with struggle. Sometimes those struggles are bigger; other times they take up a smaller place in our lives, but it’s a rare day when we haven’t faced some trial, no matter the scale.

Maybe a relationship has broken down, or maybe you are being asked to sit a while in the waiting place until you learn what’s coming next. Maybe you’re feeling lonely, or that you’ve lost yourself somewhere along the way and aren’t sure how to get yourself back. Maybe you got stuck in traffic, or forgot to pack a lunch, or are simply waiting for the sun to break through an endless stretch of clouds.

No matter what it is, we’re all there at some point or another, or maybe even most of the time.

As I navigate the situations in my own life, I am finding it helpful to ponder the phrase so that as a way to help direct my suffering toward God and helps keep my heart open to Him.

The idea of so that is a leaning in to trust that God does care very much about our trials. It is a leaning into hope that we are going through a thing for a reason that is good for us and/or for those who we interact with. It is choosing to believe that there is a picture bigger than the piece we can see.

So that allows me to affirm that God has allowed anything that I am facing into my life. I also believe that God is not in the habit of asking us to walk through something without a purpose. So when I’m in any of those struggling places, it can help to look around and be open to the potential reasons that God might be asking me to navigate the struggle, even if I don’t know what they are, so that something good can come, even if that something good is not unknown to me for today, or even for a long time to come. Leaning into the idea of so that helps cultivate patience. It helps to cultivate an openness to look around and pay attention for signs that God is working.

Are we in a boring job so that we can be done with work at the end of the day and be mentally and emotionally present for our kids?

Are we stuck in traffic so that we can grow in some virtue that is vital to our holiness?

Are we feeling lonely so that we can learn to better depend on God?

We can ask those questions, but we don’t even need to arrive at any answers in order for so that to be helpful. I’m sure that God’s reasons for allowing us or asking us to walk through a difficult time are as varied as the number of souls on this earth, but no matter the reason and no matter if or when we learn what the reason is, we can trust that the reason is there. We can be assured that there is a so that that God has in mind. And that can help us not only make it through a challenge, but to allow that challenge to do the work it is meant to do.

-Lorelei

Lorelei Savaryn reflects on the wisdom of finding quiet places, even when life is full.

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Since beginning spiritual direction last year, I have been learning more about and practicing Lectio Divina, a meditative kind of prayer where I immerse myself in a section of scripture. As a convert, this kind of praying was new for me. In my life as an Evangelical most of my prayer was me talking to Jesus. Lectio Divina is a lot of listening, and it is also a lot of just, as my spiritual director calls it, “wasting time with God.”

Of late, it has caught my attention during these prayers how often in the Gospels Jesus goes to a quiet place to be alone, or at least tries to. He has a difficult time finding solitude because of how intensely the people are pulled to Him, but still, time and time again, He withdraws to a quiet place. How like motherhood, I think, as I read these stories. It seems that almost every time I try to find some quiet, a little person comes near and needs something from me, whether it be a cup of milk or a hug. We sacrifice a lot of solitude as mothers, for the absolute best of reasons, and we can relate very much to Jesus in that.

But I also think there is wisdom to be found in the fact that Jesus continues to make time to at least try to step away. Moving ourselves out from under the noise of the day to day, even for a little while, is beautiful, and it can be healing, especially when interwoven with prayer.

It is my goal during this Lent to try more intentionally to make space for quiet places. And to hopefully meet Jesus there sometimes. Our barriers to finding quiet might look different from person to person, from home to home, but below is a list of some ideas on how we can carve out more solitude in our busy days as mothers.

I find that I lose a lot of potentially quiet moments scrolling social media. It isn’t always filled with physical noise, but it does bring in a mental noise that grabs at my attention, turning it this way and that. Perhaps choosing to not scroll, or to make set times each day when we avoid it will allow us to more easily dip our toes into a quiet place.
I used to take short walks when my firstborn was a baby, and even those little stretches of time helped a lot in the middle of the fog of new motherhood. That baby is now twelve, and there are three others besides, and I find I’m still so quick to make an excuse to stay inside. Maybe it’s too cold, or too windy, or not sunny enough, but I also know that whenever I still step outside and take a short stroll, it does wonders. To hear the wind in the trees, and the birds chirping…there isn’t much else like it. Maybe it’s possible to prioritize stepping away from everything for a short while a few times a week to take a solo stroll.
I love listening to music. Listening to songs has always been therapeutic for me, and is one of my favorite forms of worship. I also find that more often than not, when I am in the minivan by myself, one of the first things I do is turn on the radio or hit play on a podcast. There’s an opportunity for quiet there as well. Maybe we get so used to our vehicle being a noisy place, that its strange when we aren’t accompanied by the noise of our kids. But I wonder what would happen if I let myself drive in the quiet for a little while … if I didn’t turn on the noise.

These are just a few suggestions that show up often in my life that I hope might be helpful. Perhaps others among us have different noise inputs in any given day, or maybe other moms have noise sources that they default to in a world where it can sometimes feel like the only response to being overstimulated is to find a way to zone out with a different source of stimulation.

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Moving ourselves out from under the noise of the day to day, even for a little while, is beautiful, and it can be healing, especially when interwoven with prayer. #CatholicMom

But I also think that Lent is a great time to examine our lives when held up to the life of Christ. And we know that he prioritized solitude, moving away from the noise, on a regular basis. He did it when he was able to steal away, and he did it still even if the people still found him. Jesus’ pursuit of solitude teaches us that there is value to be found in seeking the quiet. There is value for us as mothers to find quiet spaces in our days and weeks. May the pursuit, and the times we enter into the quiet, draw us closer to Him.