Showing Up - 1/31/2026

Father Olds said something to me on the phone a couple of weeks ago that turned the little light bulb in my brain on. Something short and sweet this morning... maybe. Unless, as I am wont to do, I blather on too much. I'll try not to.

I told him I was working hard on my prayer life, trying to deepen my spiritual connection to God. I listed all the ways I'm praying.

• I pray either the morning or bedtime prayers in the little Magnificat magazine most days. Sometimes both.
• If I don't do the formal bedtime prayers from Magnificat, I'll often do a simple Our Father, Hail Mary, and an Act of Contrition. 
• I read the Bible almost daily, 3-4 days per week. I'm using the Ignatius Catholic Study Bible and I'm reading all the notes that go along with my daily readings.
• I read from the Catechism 3-4 days per week, too.
• I read various inspired books. I have a pretty good collection building up. Right now I'm reading The Eucharist by Lawrence Feingold. It's probably way above my level, but I'm getting through it.
• I sometimes listen to the Daily Exegesis on the Hallow App, especially while driving around town.
• I pray the Rosary once a week, usually on Friday.
• I'm learning the Rosary in Italian, too. I'm not sure if that quite counts, but I'm doing it.
• Of course I go to Mass every Sunday. I'm even going on other Holy Days of obligation, something I've never before put into practice. I try to be fully present and spiritually available to God the Father, Jesus the Christ, and the Holy Spirit while I am there. On Sundays I exempt myself from other prayer activities. I may or may not do some, but I treat it as my obligations for the day having been fully met.

All told, I spend at least an hour a day. It's a lot. I know. It may not be sustainable for me, but I am not going to waste this fire burning in me while it's glowing and bright. What am I yearning for? An apparently difficult to meet moment of deep spiritual connection to my God and Savior. I pray that my mind, heart, and soul will be open and transparent to Him, and that I might be a better person in all aspects of my life as a disciple. I confess, it sometimes it can feel like a lot of squeeze for little juice.

Father Steven said two things addressing my desire for a deeper faith and spiritual connection that were as profound as the were simple: "Give yourself credit for showing up," and "Don't beat yourself up if there are days you can't do all that."

I've given it a lot of thought, at the same time I've continued in my efforts. I realize that while we're here in this world, faith and Christian religious practice are a journey, not a destination. I'm on the right path, but the destination is in an afterlife I can't see or experience while I still live this earthly life. If I am going to have some deeply meaningful spiritual experience or event, it will happen of it's own accord in His was and at His time. All I can do is remain available to Him.

Jesus and St Peter on the Sea of Galilee

I read a story, maybe 25 or so years ago, in a Catholic magazine. I don't remember which one. A woman wrote about her pilgrimage to the Holy Land. I think it was something like a 10-day trip, and she and her travel mates hit up all the must-see spots in a Holy Land trip: the Holy Sepulchre, the whole 9 yards. She said she had expected some grand and profound spiritual experience, but everywhere they went felt touristy, hustle, bustle, commercial, and spiritually disappointing. She had written the trip off as a disappointment.

On the last night, the group took an evening boat ride on the Sea of Galilee. You know, where Jesus walked on the water and all that. The boat sailed out from the shore, and got a fair distance out, far enough to make the shore lights look distant and to be clear of all the noises of civilization. The boat tour guide talked about the various biblical events that took place on or at the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Then he offered a few minutes for individual reflection, asking people to please be quiet and prayerful until he turned the lights back on, and he turned off the lights.

There, water from Galilee lapping the side of the boat, away from shore, on her last night in the Holy Land, she felt an overwhelming and beautiful sense of God's presence. She said it was profound and powerful. Her emotions welled, and she felt tears rolling down both cheeks. This was it, the moment she was chasing. Motionless on a boat, no longer chasing, it found her. When the lights came on, she could see that everyone else had been crying, too. She kept "showing up", and when she least expected it, was rewarded beautifully and mightily.

I may not be in the Holy Land, but, like that woman, I'm trying. I really am. And I'm proud of myself for showing up. All this effort is making a difference for me at Mass. I get further and further away from something I'd call going through the motions, and more and more to meaningful and full participation: fully present, engaged, and available to God, bearing in mind that while He is my God, my Lord and Savior, He isn't "mine", I am his. He'll touch me if, how, and when He wants to. That's good enough for me.