I didn’t WANT a bunny. I did not even WANT to WANT a bunny. And yet, here we are. We are knee-deep in critter litter, Timothy hay, and various chew toys. My daughter has been asking for her own pet for a very long time. While we have a very elderly and antisocial family dog, she wanted a creature of her own that she could care for, love, and bond with in a special way. She has been doing everything she can to prove to us that at (almost) 9-years-old she was capable of taking care of an animal herself. So how did I end up with a bunny living in my house?
I stopped imagining the bunny and started imagining my daughter. In my discernment, I saw her growing in patience and responsibility. I imagined the joy on her face as she snuggled with the bunny. I saw her growing in tenderness, and finally feeling like she had an outlet for the love and energy that was exploding from every pore. The grace to say “yes” to the rabbit came from the grace of loving my daughter.
How often in discernment do we find ourselves focusing on the “mess” and the pain, instead of on the hope, the joy, and the grace? The goal of Ignatian Discernment is not to deprive ourselves of all earthly enjoyment. In discernment we ask ourselves how we might use all the things, opportunities, and relationships offered to us on earth as vehicles of coming to know God more fully. Imaginative prayer is one tool to engage our heart and mind in Ignatian Discernment. Is the rabbit bringing me closer to God, not necessarily. What brings me closer to God is my willingness to sacrifice some of my own wants and desires for my house, my schedule and my finances, in order to allow another person in our household to exercise the gifts that God has given to her.
Desolation stems from the seed of self-preservation. How can I possibly add more to my plate? Am I being selfish? How do I keep it all together? That seed germinates in me and tricks me into a false belief that I can control outcomes, for myself and others. This fixation fuels a fear of loss, and decision-making becomes more about chasing the sense of control than on listening to what God is calling forth in me.
The Seventh Rule for Discernment (Spiritual Exercise 320) addresses this false spirit. “Oftentimes in desolation, we feel that God has left us to fend for ourselves. By faith, we know that God is always with us in the strength and power of grace, but at the time of apparent abandonment we are little aware of God’s continuing care and concern. We experience neither the support nor the sweetness of divine love, and our own response lacks fervor and intensity. It is as if we are living a skeletal life of the bare bones of faith.”
The shocking image of a “skeletal life of the bare bones of faith” hits me at my core. Am I so fearful of discomfort and disappointment that I am content to live as a shell of who God calls me to be? Accepting and living from the fundamental truth that God is always with me, no matter what, frees me to take the risk to listen for God. Returning to this core truth gives me courage. Ministries fail, schools close, friendships deteriorate, loved ones pass.
These uncomfortable realities elicit “coulda, shoulda, woulda” reactions. “If only I had done something different…” “If I knew then what I know now…” “If I could go back in time…” If I KNEW, I mean REALLY KNEW how much rabbit poop there would be, perhaps I would have said no to the rabbit. If I knew how much heartache working for the church could bring, I might have majored in something besides theology.
I remind myself God is not in the hypothetical past. God gives me the wisdom, information, and courage that I need to make decisions in the present moment.
Going Deeper
The Audacity of Using Imagination in Prayer – Loretta Pehanich
Rules of Discernment, Translated by David Fleming, SJ
Donuts for Dinner
a previous blog post where I look at how false spirits work in my life
Read the rest of the Hope In the Spirit Series on “Into the Deep” by Ignatian Ministries
Jen Coito: Ignatius at Home 