The other night, I went into my weekly holy hour slot entirely spent. On this particular night, despite feeling completely spent and alone with my exhaustion, frustrations, and poverty, I felt compelled to write. I do not keep a prayer journal or write during my prayer time beyond occasionally jotting down a few notes if I have any inspirations or resolutions: I am not a “prayer journaler.” But this night, I obeyed what I now realize was the prompting of the Holy Spirit. What I wrote is included below. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but it turned out to be exactly what a friend needed to hear that day.
Have you ever prayed a holy hour before? Here’s a helpful guide.
Toward the end of my holy hour, as I finished writing down my reflections, my daughter texted me that we were out of a few items, so despite wanting badly to just come straight home, I decided to stop at the grocery store. As soon as I walked into the store, I ran into an acquaintance that I hadn’t seen in a couple of years—a great, faithful guy who I know through church.
We exchanged hellos, and I asked him how he was. He paused sort of awkwardly and said with exasperation how busy he had been. Not an unusual answer—that’s what everyone says—but something struck me about it. I said likewise, and we both sort of pensively looked at each other for a bit, exchanged a few more words, and then parted. The nonverbals from both of us were screaming divine providence.
Immediately, even while we were exchanging words, I felt certain, though also embarrassed, that the Holy Spirit wanted me to send him the reflection I had written earlier . While I walked through the store, I attempted to dissuade myself from sending it to him: “It would be totally weird and awkward.” “I probably don’t even have his email anymore.” “Is he going to be offended and think I’m totally presumptuous or out of line?” “Will this be TMI for him?” And so on. But I couldn’t shake it. As soon as I got into my truck, I found his email and pasted my reflection into it with an attempt to explain myself for my awkward and perhaps presumptuous note. I said a prayer and hit “send.”
To my surprise, the next evening, I got a response. He explained that he was also struck by our encounter. He said he normally responds to “How’ve you been?” with “Life is good; lots to be thankful for,” but, for some reason, he didn’t respond that way to me. He also said that, lately, he and his wife had been referring to life as “a grind.” I could relate. It turned out that he also had walked to his car wondering if the Holy Spirit was prompting him to help me, due to the difficulty we had in common.
He also explained that when he got my note, it was exactly what he needed to hear and that he was facing some of the exact same difficulties as me during his holy hours. He said that the last paragraph might have been the most important thing he had read in the last year.
I’ve done a lot of thinking about this encounter and about how God orchestrated the whole thing from start to finish. I am so grateful that I listened to his prompts to write even though it’s not typically something I do during prayer time. That I decided to serve my daughter instead of following my more selfish desire to go straight home. That I perceived the Holy Spirit’s promptings during the encounter and sent him my reflection despite my misgivings.
Here’s what I wrote in my prayer and sent to him:
It took me fifteen minutes to just settle down…Life has felt like a real grind lately. Really abrasive. Life is frenetic to the point of feeling frantic. Without getting into the details, my weekdays start at 5 AM, and I usually don’t get to sit down at home in any meaningful way until about 8:30 or 9 PM. At that point I need to start getting ready for bed because I have to wake up again at 5. And we don’t even do club sports or scouts or anything like that —with eight kids, we can’t. I’m not even gonna get going on what weekends have been like lately. Let’s just say that I usually get to sleep in till a lazy 5:30 AM—and it hasn’t been to do yard work. My neighbors can attest to that.
It’s all good stuff. Really good stuff. But I just can’t help but feel like there’s something deeply off about it all. But I don’t know exactly what it is or what I can even do about it. I feel rather trapped actually; sometimes even alone. And yes it’s a frequent topic of spiritual direction for me.
…So here I am in the adoration chapel after fifteen minutes of agitation, and all I can do is sit here and stare at Him. I don’t even know what to say. In fact, lately, it’s been that way: the moment I sit down, all the stuff that I want to take to prayer and have talked about in spiritual direction just—“poof”— goes away and I sit here blank, feeling like a dolt. Nothing comes. And it’s not like I don’t prepare. I literally have lists of things I should pray about and bring to Him. But then I get here and it’s like I get total amnesia. I forget that I even have lists.
Maybe I’m just tired. Or maybe—this just came to me in a fleeting thought—this is what He wants. Maybe He’s giving me a grace of forgetfulness because my whole life is crazy, figuring stuff out and doing logistical gymnastics and stressing… and this is the one moment I get to simply be. And maybe that’s what’s keeping me from losing it.
Maybe—no, almost definitely—there is something deeply off with my life and the frenetic rat race of the suburban religion of involvement, achievement, and productivity. But maybe there’s nothing I can do about it right now. And maybe the only thing I can do about it is what I’m doing; being with Him. “Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).
I learned in a new way, through this experience, that God is scrappy, and will use anything—including our poverty—to spread his kingdom of mercy and peace. I learned that the graces he gives us are also always mysteriously for others, and are only properly owned if we give them away. And perhaps most importantly, I learned that every “yes” to God and obedience to his promptings, even in the most subtle and sometimes hidden of his promptings, opens doors for more graces and a more meaningful and adventurous life. I am so grateful.
Peter Andrastek is a Ministry Consultant at the Evangelical Catholic. The Evangelical Catholic’s mission is to equip Catholics to live out the Great Commission. Learn more.
