“Genuine devotion is consistent with every state of life. Like liquid poured into a container, it adapts itself to any shape.” – St. Francis de Sales
Another Mass, another marathon—or so it can sometimes feel.
My hour-plus encounter with the Lord often consists of reminding my big kids to stop staring at the people behind us, patiently(?) holding a three year old who wants to touch my earrings and hair constantly, and ensure the toddler (who must have, like, seven guardian angels) doesn’t careen off the edge of the pew holding a container of pretzels. Oh, did I mention, at the time of this writing, I’m nine months’ pregnant?
My husband or I—generally, whoever was not supervising our pint-sized Evel Knievel at the time—will often say to the other, “What did you think of the homily?” or “The music was really beautiful today, wasn’t it?” The other person will usually respond, “To be honest, I mostly missed it.”
Man, I didn’t know what I had during those Masses without littles where I could just worship and listen.
That’s not to say I don’t love taking my children to Mass. I do, truly. When they sing and participate, when I hold a kid who buries their face into my neck as I pray, when I get to receive communion with my oldest—Mass with kids can feel like a slice of Heaven. And yet, I have certainly found myself wiping sweat off my brow or walking the halls with a screaming baby or getting my favorite notification from my watch: “You seem stressed. Would you like to try a breathing exercise?”
This past weekend, my youngest wanted a lot of cuddles with Mom and was in my arms during the consecration. Trying my best to focus, I kept moving my head to see past her face. But every time I would move my head to see Jesus, she would move hers, as if to say, “What are you looking behind me for? I’m right here!”
Finally, I paused and looked into her big blue eyes (dang, she’s so cute, even when she’s trying to topple to her death). And I felt the Lord tug on my heart as if to say, “If you’re looking to see my face, I’m right here in hers.”
Gut check.
As a mom of five, almost six, kids under ten, finding quiet time alone with Jesus is . . . hard. Sleep deprivation shortens, even eliminates, my early or late night prayer time, and pockets of silence throughout the day are, well, hard to come by. I often feel like I’m not doing enough to pray, that I am failing in my call to put God first in my life. When I compare my current prayer life to that of the past where I could get a full hour in before work, I feel like I’ve only moved backward in my relationship with the Lord.
But that moment with my sweet little girl and Jesus’s reminder hit me really hard: I am encountering Jesus face-to-face every day, most often in the little people He has blessed me with, but with every person I see. And each of those moments with Him can count if used well.
Do I treat my kids as Real Live People who have unique needs and yearn to be loved, or do I treat them as interferences to my own agenda? Do I thank God when I see them taking steps on a path to holiness and pray when I need guidance or we have tough moments? How do I relate to my husband? Do I see him as both a guide and partner in our family’s journey to Heaven or merely a roommate whom I pick apart when he doesn’t do what I want? Do I pray for the strangers I encounter throughout my day and remember they are carrying unique and unknown joys and sorrows?
Of course, we should seek quiet time with the Lord in whatever season we are in and ask Him how that time should look for us. But as the ever-wise St. Francis de Sales reminds me when I am not praying as much as I’d like, “It must be obvious that devotion ought to be practiced differently by the gentleman, the artist, the employee, the prince, the widow, the celibate, the spouse.”
I have been trying to give myself grace in this season of fatigue and overwhelm that it’s okay that my prayer time looks different now than it did years ago. But I have also found I need to find new ways to engage with the Lord. For example, I used to love cooking, folding laundry, or driving alone with a podcast or music, but now that my quiet time with God is cut short, I recognize that I need to allow room for Him to speak to me, even while my hands are moving. My prayer time currently is often spent in the kitchen or on my way to an appointment. I also have been encouraged just to start my day with a Morning Offering and intentionally choose someone to offer my exhaustion, pain, and impatience for, so I can keep that person in my mind throughout my day.
And maybe most importantly, I feel called to keep all of these little faces of Jesus in my heart. Each encounter that I have with someone, especially my family, is an opportunity for prayer, particularly in offering myself to them when I feel like I have very little left to give. Intentionally and joyfully loving them serves the Kingdom of God and draws me closer to the Lord, and I can encounter Him in each of the people I meet if I choose to let myself look with eyes of faith.