|Libby Riggs, PHJC Volunteer|
As I reflect back on the year, I find I still struggle with thinking that the everyday things I do, really matter. I often felt my job was not enough, it needed to be “something” bigger, something I wasn’t being paid to do. This year has helped me to realize that even if you “do small things with great love” (Mother Theresa) – they really do matter. I’ve always appreciated the co-workers I had who kept a smile on their face, a sense of humor, and served with love and compassion rather than spending 8 plus hours just “putting in time”. So as I again witnessed the variety of personalities while working through the home – I realized I truly am gift. As it was reflected upon during my last Spiritual Companioning Reunion: “you yourselves are a letter of recommendation, written on your hearts, to be known and read by all people; and you show that you are a letter from Christ delivered by us, written not with ink but with the spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts”. (2 Cor. 3:3) So once again I have been blessed with a year of mutual writings upon the human heart, sometimes I was the author, but often times, others were writing upon my own heart.
Let me not forget:
Christ has no body but ours,
No hands, no feet on earth but ours,
Ours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on the world
Ours are the feet with which he walks to do good
Ours are the hands with which he blesses all the world. (Teresa of Avila)
We are where God intends for us to be, as it is written in the book of Isaiah and again reflected upon once again in one of my recent Spiritual Companion reunion retreats, “Am I in the right place?, have I done the right things? Despite any mistakes, God’s providence means that wherever I have gotten to, whatever I have done, this is precisely the road to where heaven begins. However many clues I have missed, however many wrong turns I’ve taken, however unnecessarily I have complicated my journey, the road still beckons and the Lord still ‘waits to be gracious to me’”. (Simon Tugwell, Prayer: Living with God) God has gifted and directed me to this year to live in the Openness of the Spirit. I have grown in learning that the voice of my heart is truly the God within, that which when kept open, leads to a path God has set forth.
So as I end this year, I reflecting on the beauty of what I have experienced:
I’ve seen the beauty of the ocean, the beauty in nature’s destruction; I’ve seen the beauty in poverty through the eyes of hope and the beauty of the untrusting and often lonely soul of the rich; I have seen the beauty of the rising sun and the beauty of the setting sun; the disappointments in life and the beauty of new life; I’ve seen the beauty of giving and the beauty of receiving; the beauty of the spring and the beauty of the fall; the beauty of black, brown, and white; the beauty in aging and the beauty of dying; the beauty of endings and the beauty of new beginnings; the beauty of unexpected good-byes and the beauty of new friendships forged; the beauty of history made and the beauty of history that awaits to be made; I have seen the beauty of silence and the beauty of voices heard; all the beauty of God’s love, grace, and mercy that abound when the eyes and heart are wide open.
|Libby Riggs helps Holy Family students with reading
and comprehension skills in Holly Springs, Mississippi.
Right out of college, I entered the Peace Corps as my heart has always gone out to the third world countries where there is so much need. A recent experience, however, brought me to a halt. As a part of the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ Volunteer Program, I was offered the opportunity to travel to Holly Springs, Mississippi on a pilot mission program for the PHJC’s and the Catholic Volunteer Network in conjunction with the Southern Sacred Heart Ministries. The real beauty of this mission was that those we worked alongside and with, all became community! There was no notice of age, race, religion, or sex, but rather a sharing in one mission to serve and be served without question. While I participated in a short program last spring in helping clean-up from the tornado damage of late 2015, we were not afforded the opportunity to be as actively involved with the victims of the disaster since they were unable to live at the site. This time, was a totally different experience as we plunged into the lives of the people.
Now and then we all have those God winks or nudges that cause us to sit back and say, "What, me? Why me? Surely you aren't serious." Then you go on about your daily duties, but God just keeps nudging (and sometimes you even elbow back); but God just keeps right on winking.
I have given thought over the past couple years of changing careers after nearly 30 years of working in homes for adults with developmental disabilities. Not sure of what I really wanted to do, I kept an open mind, well really, my job kept me from taking the time to give it much more thought. During that time, I jumped at that last minute chance to sign up for the Spiritual Companioning course, thinking I might be called to spiritual direction. I told the class as it ended, I felt I was being called to something else, but not sure what. Again, I remained open (and again way too busy).
Then came that wink, that nudge. I was sitting in the Gathering for Associate Community at Lindenwood last fall. Sister Connie Bach gave a short presentation on the new volunteer program that they were initiating through the Catholic Volunteer Network. I had received emails about this, but paid little attention, assuming it was for people who volunteered at the many ministries they offer, but knowing I lived far from all of them, shrugged it off. Hearing more about it, immediately, I got that undeniable feeling, I was being nudged. I remember looking around at the crowd, thinking, "Really, out of all these good people, why are you looking at me?" I couldn't stop thinking about it throughout the day, or God wouldn't leave it alone, I should say. It just so happened the speaker presented on discernment. Sometimes things happen for a reason, and so it seemed was this.