I suppose it is a grace not to be able to have time to take or derive satisfaction in the work we are doing. In what time I have, my impulse is to self-criticism and examination of conscience, and I am constantly humiliated at my own imperfections and at my halting progress. Perhaps I deceive myself here, too, and excuse my lack of recollection. But I do know how small I am and how little I can do and I beg You, Lord, to help me, for I cannot help myself. — Dorothy Day
As the father of eight children and director of evangelization for four parishes, I can say with Dorothy: I have little to no time to take or derive satisfaction from my work. There is always more to do. So much more. And I will never be able to catch up to the heaping amount of it. In fact, I’m often discouraged by this. Still, perhaps it’s a grace. In what little time I have, my melancholy usually gets the best of me. Self-criticism kicks in. I become increasingly aware of my faults, my selfishness, my limitations. One cannot become humble but by humiliation. My imperfections and stops-and-starts on the journey provide a solid dose of that. Yet perhaps I’m just too busy and I use my busyness as an excuse to not be more recollected or more grateful. I am sorry. Through all of this, I know how small I am and increasingly so. I see how little I can know and do and in light of this, Father, I beg you to help me, for I cannot help myself.
Dorothy’s quote/prayer reminds me of a similar one from Bl. Sara Salkahazi, a strong-willed journalist (like Dorothy) who became a religious sister and was killed during WWII for housing Jews:
I am short-tempered, vehement, nervous, and passionate, but I still love you! I am disobedient, stubborn, and defiant, yet I love you! I am restless, hasty, and confused, but I love you! I am dark, envious, and making comparisons, but I love you!
These women were not scandalized by their sin (or the sins of others, or of the Church). But with tax collector-like humility, they bowed before the Lord fully aware of their humanity a willing to surrender any holier-than-thou, smarter-than-thou, more-active-than-thou, more-synodal-than-thou, more-liturgical-than-thou attitudes. In other words, despite the constant gravitational pull, they remained focused on Jesus, the singular subject who is the object of our faith. They repented and kept moving.
Amen to this post. It reminds me of the letter Flannery O’Connor wrote to Cecil Watkins—“To expect too much is to have a sentimental view of life and this is a softness that ends in
bitterness. Charity is hard and endures; I don't want to discourage you from reading St.Thomas
but don't read him with the notion that he is going to clear anything up for you.That is done by
study but more by prayer.”