blindness

I once read part of a book of letters Mother Teresa had written to the Priests and God. It was hard to read. The circumstances were difficult as well as her deep, dark thoughts and feelings. It was sad to know she could relate to the rest of us but it was also comforting in a way.

One of the strongest, most faithful women of our time had her doubts, too. She doubted herself, her work, and the will of God as she thought it was so. Often times she had no idea where she could care for people or where the provisions for food and water would come, but she pressed on, blindly.

When things did not go smoothly or the way she imagined, Mother Teresa would question everything–just like we all do. She would take on the weight of the (Third) World as she saw fit since she cared for the homeless, lost, dying.

I recall one of her worries was running out of food. (In this case, a large bag of rice.) Never mind that at the end of the day, there wasn’t always something for her to eat. She wasn’t much bothered by that. She was more concerned about those in her care. She was in a state of panic and doubt. She had one job: to care for the rejected and see they die with dignity. What an admirable purpose! Talk about storing up for yourselves treasures in Heaven!

She would clean these people, feed them, and give them a place to rest. She said they’d usually die in the night. That sounds like an easy set of tasks–right?? Until the provisions aren’t there at a comfortable time. Until your thoughts and feelings creep in, and you forget you aren’t really the one in charge. You’re just doing the work. You have no control or power over anything. You just have a job to do. And you have to figure out how to do it. And without having all the answers or plans, you do the next thing–whatever your circumstances allow. All while saying goodbye to so many people you never knew. Admirable but sad. I don’t know that I could ever do it. I would be in constant tears.

Let’s think about this for a minute, though. She was taking care of the poor, homeless, and dying. She was treating them with dignity and preparing them to pass into the next life. Without her or others like her, these people would have gone all their lives without anyone caring for them, without anyone showing them the love of God. They would’ve passed in pain, dirty, starving in the streets. But she gave them basic human needs and made them comfortable and ready for the next life–which I believe was Heaven. What a sad but infinitely rewarding job! I bet when Mother Teresa passed away, there were so many people at the pearly gates waiting to thank her for caring for them. I bet the streets of gold were flooded with tears of happiness.

Can you imagine living a life like these people? Rejected by society. Left for dead. Having absolutely no one. This isn’t just a Third World problem. These people exist everywhere. The needs just vary from place to place. It’s a sad thing to think some people go their entire lives without another person caring for them or showing them the love of God. We probably all know someone. Or we are that someone.

Mother Teresa talked about the poverty of the Western World being so much different than that of the East. People here suffer from spiritual poverty–which is much worse. She considered her job easier than someone who’d care for the poor of the West, as she fulfilled basic needs and gave people dignity. (What does God’s love look like here? I think we all know in our own ways.) Back to Mother Teresa–

There were many of those times of worry for her, times where she had so many in her care and nothing to feed them for dinner. She had no idea what, where, or how provisions would show up, but she pressed on. She knew her purpose and did it to the best of her ability with what she was given. And when she stopped relying on herself or what she could see or think, God would show up, and her worries faded. Her faith was strengthened and restored, and her confidence in God’s will for her life would be made clear again.

Blindly. She went on blindly. This was God’s calling for her life. And she did it without abandon. (What strength!) She knew what she was supposed to do–often times without a clue as to how it would be done or when, and it all worked out. She kept the faith despite many obstacles. And what a reward!! Not only for those in her care but also for herself. I imagine that day of her soul’s departure was a beautiful one.

It’s hard to imagine such determination to fulfill one’s calling. It’s hard to imagine the emotions that came with those times of despair–especially when your life’s work is caring for others until they reach the ends of their lives. It’s hard to imagine the strength it takes to continue on when you can’t see in front of you.

It would have been easier to give up.

And we all do that, don’t we? Times get tough, and we become discouraged. Sometimes we run and hide like children (even if only momentarily). We pout or self-destruct. We go through a mix of emotions and deal with them in the western way.

And if we are lucky, we come back to that place we once knew, where life made sense, and our direction was clear. God makes himself visible to us once again, and we go back to a place of confidence and faith. But we had to get through times of blindness, darkness, hopelessness, and despair. All to be spiritually strengthened. The growing was painful, but faith is blind. That’s why it is faith. If we could see the future, believing would be easy. And if it were easy, everyone would do it. But just like Mother Teresa, we must hold onto the truth as we know it and move forward despite ourselves.

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of things we cannot see.” (Hebrews 11:1) I am sure of very little and can see even less. But like Mother Teresa, that shouldn’t stop me, “for we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)

I’ve been in the desert for 42 years, trying to find my place. I don’t know the point but I believe there is one. I am sure of it. I hope for it. I cannot see it. And while I continue on without a clue, I will write. It is one of very few things that makes me feel alive, that makes all of this struggle and pain worth it. And hopefully one day, this pain is turned into something beautiful, and I find my purpose within it.

May God give us all the strength and courage to move forward despite ourselves. May He remind us that faith is blind, His love and forgiveness is ever-present, and there is a time and purpose for everything under Heaven. (Ecclesiastes 3:1) Amen.