Recently, I volunteered at Steubenville NW Youth Conference where I followed Jesus from the basement chapel to the opera house theater in which the Eucharistic procession took place. Darkened and filled with almost 1,300 youth, volunteers, priests, and religious, we all fell onto our knees before our Lord in Eucharistic Adoration. Though I’ve had “my first” moment with Christ, I watched in awe as many youth surrounding me experienced their “first” moment. My hope and prayer is that they continue in that spirit day-by-day.
As Jesus in the monstrance processed around the opera house, the band played “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” by Hillsongs. Suddenly, I wasn’t there anymore. Like a fly on the wall, I saw myself crying before Christ in a Eucharistic adoration chapel a year before. My brother was dying in an UC Denver hospital. With my eldest brother, father, his wife, and mother-in-law by side his side, I stayed with my mother who was on chemo and too ill to travel. I practically ran from Holy Family Hospital where I was work training to the nearby adoration chapel when I received the text.
I had no intention of crying. I don’t cry, let alone in public. But the foreboding reality of a life without my dear brother, my flesh and blood, and one of the loves of my life weighed heavily on me. If there was ever an “appropriate” time to cry, today was that day. I poured my heart and soul out to God as fast as the tears poured down my face. I knew that unless the emergency blood transfusion/ resuscitation worked within 30 minutes I would never hug or talk in this earthly life with my brother again. My heart shattered. All I could do was abandon myself in Christ.
Abandonment in Christ is an imposing task because it requires practice, much practice. It’s like falling in-love, well unconditional love, slowly but deeply and then there is no turning back. You choose it day-by-day, moment-by-moment. St. Charles Foucauld’s Prayer of Abandonment reads:
I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me,
and in all your creatures –
I wish no more than this, O Lord.
Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord, and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father. Amen.
A friend commented on this prayer saying she was impressed by anyone who could pray the words and actually mean what they prayed because of the grave and challenging nature of the words prayed. I didn’t learn to abandon my potentially dying loved ones in Christ overnight. I didn’t even know I would until life happened. It took practice, years of practice, and something provided beyond my own capacity- GRACE.
While my brother lay bleeding to death and I sobbing in the Eucharistic Adoration chapel, I remember explaining to God the thousands of pieces my heart would shatter into if my brother died, how much I loved him, and how much I would miss his earthly presence, BUT I prayed, “He isn’t mine God, and if you need him more than me, you can have him.” I knew praying that simple line could change the course of my life forever, but I believed I would still have relationship with my brother in heaven. A miracle happened and my brother resuscitated after 14 liters of blood. After an eighteen day hospitalization, he returned home to WY a gaunt shadow of his usual vitality but very much alive. I know one of these days one of my family members won’t resuscitate. In the meantime, I treasure the time I’ve been given.
My brother enjoyed listening to Hillsong United’s “Oceans (Where Feet May Fail)” during his 18 day hospitalization. A little over a year later, at Steubenville NW, I sang:
“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior.”