When I speak or write about St. Elizabeth of the Trinity, I often focus on her now-famous message, “Let Yourself Be Loved.” Leading retreats, I walk attendees through an imaginative prayer experience where they go with the Good Shepherd back into the places of their past, where buried hurts and rubble-covered shame lay waiting to be rescued, healed, redeemed, and loved by the only One who can do so.
I’ve even written a litany inspired by Elizabeth’s letters that includes supplications such as:
In the place of my deepest wounds
Lord, love me there.
In the place of my secret shame
Lord, love me there.
In the place of my buried memories
Lord, love me there.
In the place of the enemy’s strongholds
Lord, love me there.
More and more resources are springing up–no doubt inspired by the Holy Spirit–to tenderly revisit and heal our past hurts and memories and become more fully alive in Christ. After all, He didn’t save us only to have us limp through life in shattered pieces. He came that we might be made whole and have life to the full (John 17:21; 10:10).
There is another way, however, that I’ve realized God is asking me to “let myself be loved.”
Lately, He’s been reminding me of another “me” – this time, it is not a past me, but a future one.
The future me is almost certainly going to be as busy as I am now. Maybe more so. She will be concerned with children and household duties, work and writing deadlines, and financial stressors. She will sometimes feel so burdened with what must be done that she will not want to get up in the morning. She will want to trust God but will still be tempted to believe she must hustle, hurry, and work to the point of exhaustion.
Her calendar could easily become so cluttered that there is no margin for her or her relationship with God. She will turn its punishing pages to increasing feelings of despair–when will there be a square with white space? When will I be able to breathe?
The future me feels her body aging and her mind slowing down. She needs to rest but worry courses through her veins when the house is quiet. She wants to exercise but feels guilty for fitting it in. She longs for connection but can’t find time for friends. She desires to be fully present to her people but is unable to be attentive. She sits down to pray but her to-do list is running like a playlist through her mind.
She risks becoming isolated, sick, and spiritually lukewarm- maybe she already is.
There is one person who can best take care of her and love her.
It is present-day me.
With God’s grace, I can love her and help her live with more joy and interior freedom. I can make space for God’s love to reach her. The best way to love her is to protect her and create margins around her time, her energy, her health, and her heart.
What I’ve been convicted of is that my yes and no today protect and love the me of the future: “Let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’, ‘no’. Anything else comes from the evil one.” (Matthew 5:27) This means our ‘yes’ and our ‘no’ must be discerned, firm, and joyful. They create boundaries designed by God, within which we flourish and thrive.
I can make decisions that consider my vocation, personal calling, limitations, and well-being, therefore caring for the me of tomorrow and beyond. Discernment seeks to know God’s will so that we may follow it. There are many questions to ask ourselves when discerning an idea, opportunity, or inspiration: Does it conform to God’s revealed will (Church teaching, my state in life, etc?) Is it consistent with the way God has communicated to me before and what I’ve already discerned? Do others confirm it? Do I feel convicted?
But also, will it lead me to deeper conversion? That is, will it bring me closer to my goal: union with God and the peace and joy and emotional and spiritual–and even physical–well-being that come with it? Will this ‘yes’ mean that the future me is more aligned with God’s will and more interiorly and exteriorly free to carry it out?
In other words, discerning God’s will today means considering how it will affect us, our lives, and our loved ones in the future. God wants to love us there. Will we let Him?
Will I be happy and healthy traveling to three speaking events in as many weeks? Will I be able to love my kids well if I add another commitment to my crowded calendar? Will I be able to get up early to pray if I stay up late working on this project? No? Then I think I have my answer. Loving me tomorrow means making hard decisions today.
It’s not easy. This requires a tremendous amount of self-awareness, recognizing that the present me doesn’t want to miss out. The present me is flattered. The present me, all evidence to the contrary, tends to be convinced that future me will have figured it all out by then. That I will be just fine with this “one more thing” on the calendar. That I’ll be prayerful, well rested, and ready to tackle all the extra things present me has committed her to. Present me is also pretty good at pointing out the possible “fruits” without examining the cost to the plant: “For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?” (Luke 14: 28). This is particularly dangerous because we have a sworn enemy who’d happily surrender some good fruit if it means we’ll become exhausted, resentful, and spiritually depleted.
Now, God does sometimes stretch us. He inspires goals and dreams that may not seem to fit into our conservative plans. He can give us grace beyond our natural abilities. And so sometimes the answer is ‘yes’! I’ve prayerfully discerned and committed to many things today that mean more work for me tomorrow–Master’s degree courses, book contracts, business opportunities. And I think future me will be glad I did. Tired, yes, but happy. Fulfilled.
So I’m not talking about staying safe or playing small. But I do think, in this season, He’s inviting me to play the long game, to pace myself so I can stay on course and finish strong. For there will be a future moment upon which all future moments will converge–an “hour” when the future me, God willing, will hear these words: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” And that moment will depend on the many moments of faithfulness in which I say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ today.
How might God want to love the future you? How can you let Him do so with your “yes” and “no” today?
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Image courtesy of Unsplash.
