Real Life. Real Faith.
“By his obedience to Mary and Joseph, as well as by his humble work during the long years of Nazareth, Jesus gives us the example of holiness in the daily life of family and work.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 564)
My life is pretty ordinary. I wake up, pray, eat breakfast, make a lunch, get dressed and head off to work. While there, I do my accounting thing until it’s time to come home. Then I exercise, eat dinner, tidy up, watch a little TV, crochet, shower, read and sleep. The next day, I do it again. It’s ordinary. And that’s OK.
Last year, I spent Advent with a book called “Prepare Your Heart” by Fr. Agustino Torres, C.F.R., and this first week I read about the sanctification of the ordinary. The mother superior of a Carmelite monastery told Fr. Agustino that “holiness grows through everyday things.”
This is why I’ve decided that my simple, ordinary life, the life of wife, mother and friend in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, is OK. It’s the life God gave me in the place he wants me. Over the years, I’ve strived to do his will and serve him. I’ve wondered if it’s enough. I’ve wanted to do more and be bigger, but St. Therese of Lisieux started stalking me a couple months ago, reminding me to be little, urging me to be OK with being little, suggesting that being what God wants me to be is the goal, not what I want me to be. His plan is sufficient — and the one where I’m happiest.
I’ve desired bigness at times, but the pursuit of that left me feeling a little slimy and a lot uncomfortable. Bigness isn’t for me, and that’s OK, because this small, ordinary life I’ve got going on is a nice place.
So how do I sanctify this ordinariness then? How do I pursue holiness in the everyday things? The daily tasks seem insignificant sometimes and not worthy of offering up. Yet, I think there must be beauty and goodness in those things. If there wasn’t, would the Holy Family have spent so much time hidden? Some of the exercises in the book were to imagine the ordinary of their life — the meals, the conversations, the chores. Jesus, Mary and Joseph had to fill their days just as we do. They had to eat, wash and earn. We don’t know what Jesus and Joseph built as carpenters, but we know that was their job. The first 30 years of Jesus’ life are veiled from us, but I think we can safely assume he pursued holiness. He readied himself for the next thing, whatever that was.
I can follow this example. I can embrace the quotidian routine, the everydayness, and sanctify it. I can offer up my daily workout for my friend who’s battling cancer. I can wash the laundry in service of my family. I can go to an extra Mass because some people in the world can’t go to any Mass and want to. As a mother, I can frame the things I do for my family as ways of showing love to them.
Much of what we do each day is mundane and may not feel important, but I have to believe it is and it matters even if I never know why. If God created me intentionally and has a plan for me, then the tasks of my life are important even if I don’t know why. My Advent goal is to value the ordinary and see it as my way to be closer to Jesus. Here is where he put me and here is where I can thrive. He is so good.
