Hearing from God (or, Post-Partum Depression for New Grandparents)

Hearing from God happens. During "normal" life we are often so bombarded with the distractions of this world that the voice of God is largely blotted out. When we do seek times of prayer, it seems that nothing happens. We speak our supplications, trying to listen for answers, but our minds are in such disarray that nothing seems to come through. So we shrug our shoulders and walk away, resigned to do the best we can on our own, without the comfort of hearing from God.

But once in a while, something happens that allows the voice of God to come through. In my case, the birth of our first grandchild was the initial trigger. You probably think that I am going to talk about the great miracle of a new life, her tiny hands and feet, her major cute factor, the beautiful shining eyes exploring the world for the first time, the purity and holiness of innocence, the utterly peaceful sleep, the helplessness and dependency that so pictures our need for God. These things are all certainly gifts from the Lord, pointing us to love and holiness.

But these are not the most potent signs. In a sense they, too, are a distraction. The reason I know this is that, after the first joyful week, we returned to our home hundreds of miles away, leaving the precious little one behind. Human love, while surely the greatest of earthly blessings, is a double-edged sword. It can raise us to the highest of heights, or plunge us into deep sorrow, whether by physical separation, emotional distance, or even death. Despite all there is to be thankful for, we must not lose sight of the fact that life is fragile and transient.

But just knowing that is hardly comforting. Sorrow can pierce us to the core. Depression can gain the upper hand for a time. We wonder, what is life all about? What is the meaning of life when I can't have the object of my desire? Once more we struggle with knowing God's will - God, what is it You want from me? Should we move to that far away city, a complete change from the life we have known? What about the things I do each day, do they really mean anything at all? What is the point of anything in this world of fleeting happiness, where the Lord gives and the Lord takes away? Why do You torment me with this roller coaster of fulfilled and then broken dreams? Sorrow pulls down every distraction, and there is only raw pain.

Then, it seems, a voice speaks. It's not about you. You can't always get what you want. It's not about your whims and fancies. It's really about doing what is right, regardless of how you feel. It's about doing God's will, which you may or may not yet know, but you CAN start walking in that general direction. You can do the daily tasks that need doing. You can work with your hands. You can care for a neighbor in need. You can plan for the part of the future that you can see. You can continue to seek God, study the lives of (canonized or not) saints, probe the intellect for God's presence. If you fall down one day, you can get up the next. Do My will, and you will have what you need.

What does this have to do with distributism? Not a whole lot, except that I definitely heard the word that I should work with my hands. It's the just-take-one-step-at-a-time, don't-bite-off-more-than-you-can-chew, don't-think-more-highly-of-yourself-than-you-ought philosophy. Divine and practical at the same time.

The overarching message is that yes, we can hear from God. Despite the messes of the world, and the messes in our own hearts, don't be afraid of the pain. Perhaps it's a mini-purgatory, a cleaning agent of the heart. If you go through it you may well hear from God.