Letter to my Son

My Son;

It is January 1, 2018.  I am comfortably seated in my recliner.  Mozart is playing in the background thanks to my new music companion Alexa.  God willing I will be 54 years old later this year.   There is not much I need or want for myself today.  I am neither rich nor abjectly poor.  It is difficult to put to paper what I most want to see in this world before I go without telling you briefly about my journey.

I was born and raised as the youngest of seven in an enclave of working class families in Bronx, NY.   Catholic Irish, Germans, and Italians pre-dominated my community.  Racism and hatred were present but through the grace of God and being the youngest I was never indoctrinated into this evil – and was from a very early age against all that it stood for from my child’s eyes.

My childhood home would be ravished by alcoholism, domestic violence, and premature deaths.  The dreams and hopes of my parents dissolved as both parents sank into alcoholism and poverty.  All seven children were impacted in profoundly different ways influenced by our developmental ages as the family fabric of normality unraveled with the progression of the disease of alcoholism.  None was spared abnormal and terribly sad events.  To capture each sibling ruptured youth would require many pages and perhaps we would be none the wiser together with the intent of this letter.

Suffice it to say that we experienced great shame, tragedy, and loss together as a family.   My father would pass while I was in middle school.  My Mom when I was finishing graduate school.  My two closest brothers in age would suffer early deaths.

Amidst our family troubles, like soldiers in a fox hole, great love, compassion, and understanding were always present.  The expression of these wonderful loyalties was not always apparent amidst damaged self-esteem, developing addictions of our own, and the normal sibling rivalries that are present in any large family.  One thing was certain.   Getting out was a goal for everyone despite the contradictory yearning for love and kinship.    And one by one siblings left as the family continued to dissolve.

Amidst this destruction love and caring was still provided in ample reserve.   Both parents made efforts, grandparents provided a shared home, and aging siblings (young adults) helped at every turn.  Thirteen years of Catholic schooling (many of the earlier years not paid and the high school years paid for by eldest brother and sister) helped ferment both my character and a modicum of educational ability.

Alcoholic drinking was not foreign to me in youth and into sophomore year of college and later in life.  This too, is another chapter that would take too many pages and tertiary to the intent of this letter.   However, it introduces the first request for God’s help.     In high school on a cold winter evening I wandered away from my friends in Pelham Bay Park and leaned against a fence and pleaded with God to help me find a way out of this life in the Bronx.   Alcohol was my thing at that time and my friends were into that and heavier drugs of different varieties.   In God’s time I was accepted into Stony Brook University and had the ability to attend due to a combination of loans, grants, student work-study and some family help.   This was an answered prayer.

There were many situations than and afterwards where I could have had a very different path in life and not be where I am today.  I reflect on an unnamed boy who lent me one of his gloves when we were sleigh riding in the Bronx.   He was older and gave me kindness this one winter day.  The following day he was murdered by strangulation behind a local bowling alley for money.  I think of Chucky, a childhood friend whose father used to beat him.  I helped him run away once before he did for good.  His father strangled me on the side of my house until I finally pointed in the direction Chucky had gone.   I had given Chucky my bike and he should have been gone – but he wasn’t gone, he had nowhere to go.   He did eventually run away and visited a year or two later, dirty and beat up some, telling me a Tom Sawyer like story of throwing rail road ties onto the third rail.  My story is not as seeped in tragedy as others.

College gave me an avenue out of the Bronx and philosophy and psychology gave me the tools to examine life from a different perspective.  Before long, armed with Nietzsche and alcohol God was dead.   I was not necessarily any happier a person.   However, I was an armed and an angry man with a little enough wisdom to espouse my hold on reality.   There could not be a God with all the suffering in this world, in my life.  And if there was a God, he would not accept me.

Reality progressively got worse quickly.  I will pass over the personal failures here.  Existential meaninglessness was taking hold as drinking increased.   Behaviors and grades deteriorated.  This period was short-lived.     One morning about 4 a.m. a born again African-American women cleaning lady came onto my college hall and saw me sitting quietly in my literally trashed college room.  She helped me clean it up without any judgement or lecture and peacefully went on with her arduous day.  I wanted what she possessed. Several other factors including threatened with eviction from campus life and mandated counseling led me to turn away from alcohol and dive into true study.

I met my wife to be not long after this transformation and she would be my strength in the years to come.   My career was steady and fulfilling.  I was provided great mentors at different points in life and my family grew.   My wife’s family was also blessed with deep faith and their faith seeped into my hardened heart.

I am however a dense man.  Let me throw out a few co-incidences and let you decide if God seeped into my life or crashed the door down.

  • Chess piece: While driving my caprice classic upstate New York on Taconic parkway at top speed (100 miles per hour) as I was truly testing how fast I could get it to go, my dashboard ornament, a glued on chess piece, loosened from its felt base, and fell to the floor as I was cresting a mountain top.  I bent over and in so doing came of the gas pedal as I reached for the piece, grabbed it, and came back up.  Just over the hill, a car in my land (left hand lane) was standing still, hazards on.  I missed it by inches swerving right.  If not for the chess piece falling to the floor the caprice would have been my coffin.
  • Blind men: I took ill for several weeks and could not work.  The doctors and disease specialist could not find the cause of my weakness.  At the end of it all it was discovered I had mononucleosis that the original test failed to capture!   That is not miraculous.  I had taken to force myself to walk to the deli and get a coffee and egg sandwich.  On this day, on my return trip, a blind man was waiting to cross Lefferts Boulevard in Queens.   I offered assistance and he accepted.  The elder gentleman interviewed me as we traversed crossing two streets and at the end of the cross walk told me it was time to go back to work and that I did.   I returned to work and within two to three days I had the Manhattan work pace going in full force.  As I left from one meeting to the next I ran into a man’s Seeing Eye dog, almost fell, and dropped papers.  The dog did not budge nor did the blind man.  He simply and calmly advised me to take things easy and not be so rushed.      I had another encounter with a third blind person within that two-week period who gave me less memorable guidance.   Three blind people in my path in a two week period where I was feeling physically and psychologically at my lowest – due to misdiagnosed mononucleosis!
  • GPS: I was planning to attend a Buddhist meeting.  It started at 7 P.M.   I typed in address.  The GPS went squirrely and then took me north, than west, and then south and bought me right past my catholic church.    Why the hell did it take me this way around for in the totally wrong direction?  I am going to be late.   I speed up a bit and am heading down State Street.  The road is closed off.  A telephone pole is down.  Does that awaken me to maybe I should not go?    I divert and force myself to still get to the location.  No offense to the people searching for the God of their understanding, but this particular group of three Buddhist did not offer “meditation” techniques guidance or balanced Buddhist teachings that warranted my presence.  Only afterwards did I recognize my obtuse lack of insight that I was never meant to go to that meeting.
  • Car Skid: One winter storm day my closest brother called me telling me about how he lost control of his car and had a close call.  I asked the time.  5:27 P.M.  I had skidded in my car some 90 miles away on a highway off-ramp at just about the same time!
  • Drinking: I resumed casual drinking after September 11, 2001.  November 10, 2001 in Chicago I had my first drink since 1986.  In the 15 years that followed I cannot detail here the mistakes I have made and the risky situations I have put myself in while drinking.  Not a single bone broken or person hurt physically by my poor judgement over the years.  No jobs lost.  However, a general decline in the peace in my life followed each successive year.  My drinking also had a negative impact on my elder siblings drinking – whom I professed to try to help stop drinking.   Giving up drinking is not as easy a decision for me as it maybe for some who have suffered heavier consequences with legal involvement, medical crisis, and losses (families or jobs).  Even without these I have suffered soulful injuries that bruise deep and have hurt others in the same manner.  It is a spiritual miracle for a guy like me with my family history and personal sense of mastery to be able to not be drinking today.  This too is another chapter but nevertheless for many recovering alcoholics being sober is a miracle.
  • Career: For a youngster with a significant stutter that still emerges from time to time, having a career on social work, a master’s degree, and 27 years serving people with words in homeless services, disaster services, and mental health services defies logic.    I had aimed to be a city employee (Sanitation or bus driver).  I had taken the civil service test.  I was accepted and a letter sent to my house with an appointment for bus driver in NYC.  I was away in college.  I called home and asked Jimmy if there was any mail for me.  He answered no.  I discovered the letter two weeks after the appointment date and my bus career was over before it started.  I would not have had my career, my wife, or my kids if Jimmy had told me of the letter and the job.  I would have had a city job and a bar stool along with other Bronx kids.

These little mysteries do not in and of themselves prove a God.  They do for me as I have felt the grace of God in little and small things.   When it comes to purpose in life and the million different directions and decisions that transpire and intended and unintended consequences that follow it is difficult to define divine purpose.

None of the above accurately defines and answers the mystery of God and the challenge of the question of suffering.   In the life of Jesus Christ much can be explained if one looks hard enough.

I have investigated the atheistic perspective, the agnostic perspective, and the religious tenets of the three great monotheist religions.  I have looked at other faiths as well as well as those basing life purely on scientific mathematical concepts.   At the end of the day each has kernels of wisdom that can benefit mankind as well as potential for treacherous acts of evil including my own religious faith.

Putting aside the humble attempts by man to define God, the utter inadequacy of our words, the terrible application of our well-intentioned religions distorted by man, there is a higher purpose than our sense of self.

I cannot define the impact I may have had in my social work career, in my family life, and in the lives I have had the opportunity to influence directly or indirectly.  I know I have mentored many that went on in social work with genuine passion and commitment to help people.  I know that there are many people out there with greater talents than I that are natural leaders that seemingly effortlessly live selfless and holy lives.  The vicious game of relativity to thy neighbor’s accomplishments has no end.

So Son, I am almost there with being ready to tell you what I most want to see in this life before I go.  First, what must it have been like to be John the Baptist?  Imagine ostracizing oneself into the hills to preach and baptize people under threat of execution knowing one who is to come is greater than thou?  In essence John knew he was limited and could not be the Messiah.  He was able however to witness the Messiah.  What was the purpose of John the Baptist?  Did he prepare the way?  Sometimes in life we are meant to be preparers or people behind the scenes that perform the unseen acts of kindness or assistance that helps others is the saints or leaders of tomorrow.

I am “no John the Baptist.”  I have done okay by myself and my family and by those I serve.  Sometimes I want to have done more or have been more influential.  Sometimes I have been aggrieved of my limitations and challenges in life that may have limited by personal and professional ambitions.

Today that is not the case.  I can recognize others carrying out work and life in a manner that demonstrates their natural calling, ability and purpose.   There is the Mother Theresa of Kent General Hospital who works in Palliative care.  The work she is doing daily with the dying and people living with chronic disease processes is nothing short of awe-inspiring.  It is clearly God’s work.   The more I can help her or help others who help people the greater I am fulfilled and aligned with God’s purpose today.   In my own work today my major role is to help people who do the work be able to do the work and problems solve when barriers prevent that work.  It is unseen drudgery!

There is a theme here.  There were countless decisions that happened prior before “Mother Theresa” of Kent General came to Delaware, studied nursing, got her RN degree, got her Nurse Practitioner degree, and started this role.  No one knew.  I gave up a significant career in NYC at the time without the knowledge of what was to come.   Now it is purely a work of spiritual inspiration in action.

What do I want to see before I go?  I have a desire for my son to know God.  Not in a zealous manner loaded with religiosity and ambiguity, tied to theological text, and preaching on the corner.  In a humble way where my Son knows his purpose in life and when it is in question can sit and reflect and find the answers.  When confronted with suffering can withstand the pain and do what he has to do with God as a partner.   If my son has that the many pitfalls of this world he will be able to withstand and some maybe even avoid some (think Alcoholism).

Who is my Son?  He bares my name.   But I have daughters as well, and nephews and nieces.  I desire for everyone I know to have a spiritual grounding with the God of their understanding.   In that vein this letter is not just for my Son, it is for anyone who reads this letter, for all my brothers and sisters here on earth.

So Son, there you have it.  I am sending you two books with this letter.  Understanding the Scriptures, A Complete Course on Bible Study by Scott Hahn, Phd and Jesus A Pilgrimage by James Martin, SJ.    The first explains every book in the bible and time-lines in an easy to read fashion.   The second is written by a Jesuit priest that I find to be amazingly intuitive on Jesus Christ and on finding faith and belief in your life if you look for it.  This book has him reflecting on the life of Jesus as he visits the historical sites were Jesus Christ and the apostles lived and preached.  The combination gives both archeological and spiritual insights that truly bring together why so many people can believe in a guy that dies on a cross over two thousand years ago.

I have only touched briefly on highlights of my spiritual struggles and graces.  Life is messy and I am far from a theologian or ambassador for the word of God.  I have read several books of James Martin, SJ including The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything.   He is of the same ilk as Pope Francis.  I have found him to be quite controversial to some staunch Catholics as his views are similar to Pope Francis.  He has been attacked by some very conservative religious groups.     He is no Martin Luther.  This is how James Martin finishes the book and is an apt way to finish this letter:

“What I want most for you is to meet Jesus.  You have met my Jesus.  Now meet your own.”





Jewels of Confession (Personal Reflection)

I am in my mind’s eye an amateur, a novice, a man sentenced to be an apprentice for life.  It is the epitome of grandiosity to believe anything else.  There are just too many barriers for me to join the ranks of those considered by men to be held as examples of a devout man, much less than to even consider judgement by God’s expectations to respond to living a life aligned with his desires.

Theological, sociological, psychological, and genetic realities have reinforced my understanding of my imperfections and inability to obtain or much less so maintain sanctification – to be set apart for God’s work, to be truly live a spiritual life in everything I am.  I can expound on original sin, on my socio-economic status, my troublesome youth, and my genetic disposition ad infinitum for “causation” of my falling short, for my mediocre, for my deepest failings.  At the end of the day excuses, rationalization, or deflection is not mine to give.   My apprenticeship does not absolve me from full responsibility for “my thoughts, my words, for what I have done or what I have failed to do this day.”[i]

My greatest accomplishments and must evil acts do not afford me special status in the ledgers of holy acts or Hades hall of fame.   I have not been called by God or by Satan to champion the ideological battle of Good versus Evil.  I am humbled by many.  Everywhere I turn there are people with greater faith than I when I choose to truly look for the warriors of God.   I can see and feel the vibrancy of interior peace in many faithful, the unquestioning tranquility of those who have truly surrendered, and the energy of those who perform many acts of service with seemingly tireless commitment.  It exhausts me and replenishes me simultaneously.

I have been blessed with a vocation of helping people oppressed by circumstances, homelessness, by poverty, by addiction, or by severe and persistent mental health disorders for 29 years (including two years of graduate school).  I have equally been blessed with the vocation of the sacrament of marriage and three beautiful and healthy children.  I have also been blessed with personal struggle and immense suffering from an age that included the devastating impact of addictions, family violence, premature deaths, and utter chaos in a very confusing youth.  The blessing of suffering has humbled me to be sensitive and compassionate with every human being I encounter.

Without a portrait of my background it is difficult to give weight to the jewel of confession.  In essence, what does it matter if I bring my sins to a confessor given my sins and my accomplishments relative to others would not move the Richter scale of human morality in any meaningful measurable direction?  I am no St. Augustine or Stalin.  I am neither rich nor poor.  I am neither exceptionally intellectual, exceedingly dim, or an idiot savant.    In an existential sense, I am “being and nothingness” exemplified as is most of humanity.

There is nothing I can bring a priest that he has not heard.  There is nothing I have bought to a priest that my God does not already know.  And to make matters worse, in my belief, although my actions are important, I cannot achieve any holiness on my own merit without God’s justification or saving grace.[ii]

Furthermore, I dare to say that I have had many a confession that was ill-conceived or perhaps even ill-received!  The confessor and the penitent cannot enter into the confessional without grounded intent and inspired purpose.  How many confessions of my youth was coerced ritual? How many confessors were limited by systemic rituals from practicing true teaching in the confines of the confessional time and space allotted?

Does any of it matter?  Yes.

In the hands of Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino my life story could be transformed onto the big screen into something unrecognizable to me by mere condensing of timelines, sharpening of dramatic events, and adept usage of poetic license to create an inspiring story of coming into one’s own or a depressing comedy of errors and sadness or both.   In other words, we do not truly know the impact we have on others during the arc of our short tenure of life.  Our stories cannot accurately be portrayed without capturing the offshoots and trajectories of other people’s lives that have been influenced by intersections with our own – for better or for worse.  Scorsese, Tarantino, and our very own self-defined sense of our own lives cannot accurately capture and define the individual lives we have led with any degree of certainty.

I remember an old man living in an “SRO” (single occupancy unit) on 28th street in NYC.  I saw him daily for a certain number of years before he passed.   His name was Eli.  Our conversations were never long or deep.  There was eye contact and a smile with each conversation that transcended words.   I was called one day when he had a coronary heart attack in the hall way.   I went and held his hand and looked into his eyes until the paramedics came.  I will never know what I meant to that man.  I know I knew him and he knew me as if we had a secret club, an unsaid bond.   He passed and I never fully knew his life story or how he came to be alone in New York City.

Meaningfulness:  The first principle of confession is that we have meaning beyond ourselves and our sense of self-importance or lack thereof.  What did I do for Eli or not do for Eli in those years preceding his death?  Were my actions aligned with God’s will?  How would I know it then or now?   When we accept we have a purpose and a meaning beyond our own definition we also must accept a challenge as to how we use our body, our minds, and our soul to fulfill our mission(s) in life.

There are many definitions of sin.  Most of them can be simply be defined as taking us away from our purpose in life – from what we are meant to do.   And each micro-aggressions (examples of seven deadly sins:  gluttony, lust, greed, pride, despair, wrath, glory, or sloth) against our purpose in life wears us down, deflate our strength, and weakens our resolve.  For some of us, the depletion is so complete that we are left with seeking refuge in synthetic intoxications of the worldly life as an end to themselves.

Acceptance:  The second principle is that in our fallibility we can easily be consumed and distracted from our source of purpose in this life by both external challenges and internal decay.  Where our attentions are our hearts will follow.  How many minutes, hours, days, months, or even years of our lives are spent attending to inconsequential or damaging activity that takes us away from our purpose or mission in life?  When is our pleasure or joy turned into selfishness or sin by direct action or omission of action?

Right now 1.6 billion people are estimated to have inadequate shelter, 795 million people are suffering from hunger, 208 million people are using illegal drugs, and 450 million affected by Mental Illness.  Let’s estimate I have directly or indirectly helped 1300 families achieve permanent housing, 14000 people with access to or support of treating mental illness or addictions, and gave occasionally to various charities and causes.    In this context, how much of my life’s activity should be directed at my own pleasure?  How much charity should I give?  What change opportunities have I shied away from during my life?   To put it simply, my work is never done if my true calling was homelessness, world poverty, and serving people with mental health issues.  The second principle is accepting my fallibility and even if I was to practice total self-denial I would not be able to end the misery associated with these conditions.  Balance and humility is called for at all times.

Informed confession (ACTION):  Accepting I cannot live a life of total self-denial, that our collective “sin” currently and historically is beyond my ability to reconcile, and that I still desire to pursue a holy life I have found that self-reflection and informed confession can help alleviate the wounds of our individual and collective failures so that we may continue on to do what we can within our sphere of influence.

An informed confession can lead to “a radical re-orientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our heart, an end of sin, a turning away of evil, with repugnance toward the evil actions we have committed.  It entails the desire and resolution to change one’s life.”[iii]

Confession is an opportunity for education and healing.  It is a time out to meet with another human being who is skilled in spiritual discernment (Priest) and bring your troubles (thoughts, words, deeds) to God for examination in a manner that allows you to seriously “repent, revoke, and replace” unwanted behavior, actions, or thoughts.

It is different from spiritual direction.  It is bringing to God a request to forgive your transgressions, heal your wounded self (as each transgression weakens your purpose), educate and enlighten your actions, and strengthens your resolve and commitment to continue along the road toward sanctification.   It can get down to the nitty and gritty of what is in your circle of influence to change.   A confessor help ensure you are not deceiving yourself or misguided in your application of theological applications – often to your benefit.

Scorsese and Taratino can take an inconsequential action and transform a characters destiny – imagine what God can do with a sincere and committed confession, however minute the conviction to change.

The third principle is with informed consent going to confession and partnering with a priest and God to make true amends and genuinely commit to ACTION to change as needed with the humble understanding that penance will probably be required sooner than later for similar offenses or new revelations of further refinement is required!

Spiritual DirectionThe Jewel of Confession is it informs one’s spiritual direction.  What endeavor in life does not require correction, improvement, refinement, and adaptation?  Ideally we would all have a spiritual director.

Confession and spiritual direction are not in vogue today.   Not every confessor or spiritual director is equal.  The Catholic Church holds this sacrament to be vital:  “Those who approach the sacrament of Penance obtain pardon from God’s mercy for the offense committed against him, and are, at the same time, reconciled with the Church which they have wounded by their sins and which by charity, by example, and by prayer labors for their conversion.”[iv]

The theological and Catholic doctrine on Penance is quite in-depth.  As a lay person I have always had mixed feelings about the sacrament of Penance.  Today I do not have the same reservations – my reservations today is on what I can bring to the confessional box or room and what the confessor can help with as we are both in dialogue with the Trinity.   Alas, it is not confidential.   The weight of my faults, the collective weight of our societies failings, and all the messiness of pursuing a holy life can be supported and guided by a thoughtfully and genuinely prepared confession that is meant for sincere dialogue with God.

Done with reverence both the confessor and penitent can benefit and be guided by the mystery of the sacrament and better serve God’s plan on leaving the ancient confessional booth.

We are meaningful in God’s eye and plan despite the existential threats that surround us in the world today.  Accepting that each human being is special including ourselves and accepting our fragility as individuals and as a collective we are dependent on both our own actions and God’s saving grace.  Knowing this we seek informed correction through confession and pursue sanctification through ongoing spiritual direction despite the immense suffering in the world, in fact, because of the immense suffering in the world!



[i] http://www.catholic.org/prayers/prayer.php?p=1780[ii] http://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p3s1c3a2.htm[iii]

7 Secrets of Confession by Vinny Flynn

[iv] http://www.vatican.va/archive/ccc_css/archive/catechism/p2s2c2a4.htm




Becoming Who You Are:  Insights on the True Self from Thomas Merton and Other Saints by Martin SJ, James

Father James Martin is a priest-author that I find writes in manner that leads one to understand the mystery of Christ and provides tools that help the believer (or unbeliever) deepen their faith.[i]  In a mere 90 Kindle pages (90 minutes) he makes the case to invite you to become a saint!  This book is a great way to skim the surface of pursuing a deeper faith.


My reflections – applying this book to my journey with God

“Find your own Calcutta”[ii]

Inevitably we will suffer in this life from spiritual, physical, and mental anguish.  Our own suffering and perhaps more importantly the suffering of others, left unattended can take us away from God.  When Mother Teresa says above, find your own Calcutta, she is speaking about helping others who are suffering.  Helping others is a powerful spiritual experience but likely will fall short of providing a sustained peace unless we have been attuned to our own suffering and our response to these trials as well.

My own suffering took the form of alcoholic parents, addictions in the family, untimely deaths, shattered confidence and self-esteem as a youngster and young adult, varying degrees of speech fluency, micro personal defeats, and my struggle with alcohol, periods of crisis of faith, and numerous bouts with the seven deadly sins.  The latter I shall define as self-imposed suffering as these biblical sins drive pain and misery in human kind.



My faults are not glamorous or dramatic enough to warrant an Augustinian biography.  My suffering is not uncommon to many.  Relative to others my ability to claim martyr status is pathetic.  They are enough though to deflate pursuit of seeking a holy life – never mind being a saint.     The dialectic of suffering imposed by external uncontrollable events and suffering self-imposed is a surgical cleaver that separates many from faith.  Not to mention failing at to carry such little weight (suffering) relative to what the Saints have carried is very crushing indeed.  How can Father Martin invite the likes of me to be a Saint?

“But no one leads that proverbial “charmed life.”  Everyone’s life is a full measure of graces and blessings, as well as struggles and challenges.  And if we consistently compare our own complicated reality with the supposed perfection of another’s life, is it any wonder that we wish we were other than who we are?”[iv]

It is easy to forget this when in the throes of life.  Father Martin mentions that Merton and Nouwen had the following in common:

“… a lifelong process of self-examination and self-criticism and self-revelations had a point; it was not simply a narcissistic quest for self-knowledge.  Rather, it was a discipline undertaken to allow them to become more loving and more centered on God.”[v]

It is here where I can take refuge, in contemplation.  In contemplation I can take stock in my calling and have gratitude for my many blessings – including my struggles.  In many ways my struggles and suffering have defined who I am today:

“More often than not, those very weaknesses are the most important paths to holiness, because they remind you of your reliance on God.”[vi]

They have provided me with humility and strength that have fueled my passion in the field of social work.  I have had, to date, an excellent career with 14 wonderful years serving homeless families and 13 years serving consumers living with severe and persistent mental illness.  The work I have done with them within my limited role and skill set is not mine.  It has been built on the struggles I have had, suffering experienced, education provided, and skillful people that have surrounded me that both enabled me to lead and provided leadership when needed.  It is daunting work and continues to evolve and call me to serve a different role – none of which has been natural to me. Yet time and time again I am provided with alliances and intelligent people that support the calling I have – to advocate and provide services to vulnerable populations in the most respectful and passionate way possible.  My vocation is one calling.  Interestingly my faith and beliefs are not on stage in my work.  I work alongside people of different faiths and no faith at all.  In a way, I am a “hidden contemplative,” in plain sight doing God’s work (provided I am doing it well).  I also have a calling as a husband, a father, and a community member.  Each of those comes with responsibilities and challenges as well.


Father Martin quotes St. Therese of Lisieux to make the point that living a saintly life within your calling in life is indeed possible.  “The Little Way” is in doing what you do, whatever that maybe, doing it well.  Whatever you do it is indeed difficult to consistently and persistently do it well over a long period of time – especially if it is deemed a little thing!   How many of us secretly want to be great writers, mystics, or the best in our fields – to do great things worthy of public admiration?  We are all not called to live the life of a hermit, to be great authors, to be priest, martyrs, or the best in our fields.  Thank goodness for that as we cannot be what we are not – we can only be ourselves.  Our strength is in our diversity and our interdependence.

Seeking a contemplative daily prayer can be very simple.[vii]    I have recommended before and will recommend again here the “Daily Examen” below from St. Ignatius.   All of the above is based on a firm willingness to seek God, and for this writer, to seek Jesus Christ.

Take a look today at all your actions and thoughts.  If you had the opportunity to change any of them by applying “What would Jesus think, say or do” would you have acted differently?  And if your answer is yes, do you have the courage to do so and the perseverance to continue to refine your being to be aligned with spiritual calling?    And if you found nothing to be changed – are you truly honest with yourself – or are you not taking on a greater calling that will present you with even greater challenges?

Are we not all fallible perfectionists at heart?


Don’t Despair – find a Daily Prayer routine:  

  1. Become aware of God’s presence. 
  2. Review the day with gratitude. 
  3. Pay attention to your emotions.
  4. Choose one feature of the day and pray from it.
  5. Look toward tomorrow.


[i] https://www.facebook.com/FrJamesMartin/

[ii] Mother Teresa pg 85

[iii] https://www.google.com/search?q=seven+deadly+sins&rlz=1C1TSNJ_enUS718US718&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwicu5WE5-bVAhVJ34MKHeNSCo0Q_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=589#imgrc=SMCez42iRpEcPM:

[iv] Pg. 30

[v] Pg. 57

[vi] Pg. 86

[vii] http://www.ignatianspirituality.com/ignatian-prayer/the-examen