Call it postpartum hormones or just plain anxiety, but I have been a little panicky about the state of the world. If I let my brain ruminate for too long, I quickly begin to worry about climate change, Israel and Iran, Ukraine and Russia, the increasingly polarized political landscape, artificial intelligence, the ubiquity of pornography—not to mention fears closer to home like kids choking on grapes. Times certainly feel hard right now, and the future of America, let alone the world, can feel bleak. My parents lived through the Cold War, the Vietnam War, the sexual revolution, and the AIDS epidemic, to name a few. Did they struggle with these fears? Did life feel particularly frightening for them, too?
One hundred years ago, no one was privy to every suffering in the world. We didn’t know if a child in another state was kidnapped, let alone about every geopolitical conflict happening across the globe. Our worries centered much closer to home, our immediate families and the people in our town. Now, with access to information via news outlets and social media (or news outlets’ social media!), we can find out about a high school friend diagnosed with cancer and a school shooting within minutes of each other. Holding everyone’s suffering at the same time, not to mention giving our prayers and charitable support to all of these people, is impossible. And each crisis, both within our immediate spheres and around the world, seems to require immediate attention or else we become “part of the problem.” Use less plastic! Buy locally sourced food! Shop at small businesses! Avoid pesticides and processed food! Learn the history and remain informed on every country at war! Compost and minimize food waste! Research and boycott businesses known to utilize unethical labor practices! Oh yeah, do all of this while prioritizing your relationship with God and eating dinner together as a family every night.
God does not permit us to sit in our comfortable houses and say that all of these problems are for someone else to deal with; we aren’t allowed to turn a blind eye to the very real suffering of the poor, incarcerated, abused, and neglected both here and abroad. But I do think the Enemy can use very good, very important issues as a distraction from our true vocations. If we are so focused on reading labels that we spend our grocery trips yelling at our kids, maybe seed oils aren’t the enemy we need to be worrying about. If shopping in-person at local businesses is taking up so much of our free time that we aren’t spending time together as a family, maybe buying online sometimes can be okay, too.
When I start comparing myself to other moms, one of my friends wisely reminds me, “All moms can’t be all moms.” In the same way, “All people can’t be all people.” In other words, as parts of Christ’s Body, we all have different roles to play. Some of us are gifted at intercessory prayer while others offer themselves to the Church through hospitality, teaching, or leadership. We can’t all muster the same passion for the environment, the poor on the other side of the globe, and responsible antibiotic usage. We weren’t all given the same gifts because we aren’t called nor equipped to slay each and every dragon.
As I have struggled to hold both a healthy awareness of the world’s problems in tension with my vocation as a wife and mom, I have felt God telling me that I am first called to spend time with Him and be filled with His love for me. Only when I rest in His presence and am filled with His love, goodness, and generosity can I give that love, goodness, and generosity to others. Then, I must strive toward virtue, using that love, goodness, and generosity to serve those in my immediate circle. (As St. Teresa of Calcutta said, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.”) Besides extending that love to my husband and kids, I have to be heroically kind to the barista who got my order wrong or the family member who repeatedly asks when I am getting my tubes tied. I have also discerned that distance from social media and the news is, generally speaking, best for my mental and spiritual health. But when I do need to take on the emotional burden of sad news, I can take the anxiety it produces, pray for a greater trust in the Lord, and offer up that uncomfortable feeling for those suffering firsthand.
But in my current season of mothering littles, taking on huge swaths of volunteer hours would be neglectful of my vocation. Still, I don’t want to excuse myself from selfless generosity. While I can’t go on a mission trip, I feed the hungry by signing up for Meal Trains, especially ones that may be inconvenient because of timing, location, or meal preferences. When I can’t afford the prices at our local small businesses, I can try to seek out my local Goodwill before I order online. I can’t be a regular witness outside of Planned Parenthood, but I can support postpartum mothers or babysit so Mom and Dad can have a date night.
Eventually, where, when, and how I can serve will change, and I trust I will be equipped with the energy and empathy needed to do as the Lord calls me. For those on the front lines of mission and service work, I am so grateful for your inspiration and for finding ways that we can contribute, regardless of our season. But for now, I try to feel peace knowing that God just asks me to answer to His call in this present moment; as long as I respond, I can have confidence and hope that He is using all of it for our good.
