The last few weeks, we’ve been in the wilderness for Lent… but you can only stay in the desert so long. And when the Lord came out of the desert, he was very focused on his mission, with one moment in mind: going to the cross, and ultimately giving his life.

As we move towards Holy Week and the Triduum: stay focused. Look at Jesus on the cross.

For three episodes, we’re going to ponder the wounds of Christ and relate them to the three evangelical counsels: poverty, obedience and chastity.

(People might think these are just for consecrated religious. And yes, we take vows. But the Catechism, St JPII, St Bonaventure—and more—all propose that these are for every disciple to grow in imitation of Jesus.)

Today’s episode is all about poverty… but we don’t talk about possessions. Look at Christ’s wounded hands, nailed to the cross; they’re a manifestation of Jesus’ own poverty. He can’t grasp at anything, but can only receive anything from the Father. His hands and wide open arms are all receptivity.

At the culmination of his life, he has given everything; let go of everything, for the sake of love. Absolute and total surrender.

What about when we grasp? Try to control things? Think we know what will fulfill us, or others? This week, examine where you might be grasping—not receiving—the good gifts that the Lord is offering.

Want to share in the work of this podcast a little? Donations gratefully accepted at spiritjuice.org/pocoapoco

Sometimes, in the heart of the wilderness, your step that was a strong march slows down. Then turns into a limp after rolling an ankle, and finally ends up looking more like a crawl by the end of the day.

And that’s fine. Because the only rule is we don’t stop.

When there’s a choice between struggling and stopping, we always want to err on the side of going for it.

That means that at the beginning of each day, the ones who “win”, spiritually, aren’t necessarily the most gifted, the most talented, the capable. It’s not the ones who look most promising on paper.

The most faithful are the ones who persevere. So just keep going. Be faithful.

Fr Mark-Mary's new book, Habits for Holiness, available now from Ascension Press. Check it out here: https://ascensionpress.com/products/habits-for-holiness-small-steps-for-big

After trying to go it alone day in, day out, you start to realize you can’t do it alone. That’s miserable. In the desert, you’re radically dependent: on the Lord, and on people who surround you.

Relationships are not accessory. They’re essential.

This breakthrough happens humanly and spiritually. All the physical sufferings start to purify you and you can experience what’s most important. It’s in our weakness that the only comfort, relationship, comes alive.

Once you lean into that, you can find joy in struggle because you’re in it together. It’s when all the distractions are taken away that you can focus on the gift of relationship.

But being left with nothing except relationship can be a scary moment. You can put off that moment for a long time. You can run from it.

So… don’t. Instead, embrace the built-in grace of Lent: to not have another option. To willingly remove all the other comforts in life and to see relationship for what it is: a consolation. Let this consolation be consoling.

The desert isn’t about struggling for the sake of struggle. There’s a wrong kind of struggle; one that’s self-reliant, self-focused, worldly. It’s difficult for the Lord to do anything for us there.

In the desert, the reality of the wilderness slams against pride and ego. Against “I know what’s best” and “I’m strong.” You get to the desert and it punches you in the face because everything’s so heightened. You figure out real quick how self-focused you are.

And that wake-up call is good, because we all have a temptation to turn in to ourselves. To fix ourselves. To fix the people around us. To control. We’re so stuck in ourselves. Getting after this temptation? Now that’s the right struggle.

Don’t get dragged through the desert, kicking and screaming and resisting the whole time. Use your will to choose the desert, whatever that desert looks like for you. It doesn’t matter whether you see what God is doing in the suffering or know where He’s leading you. You don’t have to like it or even understand it. You only have to pray, “Lord, I trust you and I receive this.”

Because that safety you’re trying to force with all your self-reliance? That safety is an idol. Let go. God’s got you.

We’re kind of tired of mediocre Lents. You?

This Lent, we’re going for it: into the wilderness. Accepting God's invitation into the desert, with all its dangers and hazards and risks.

Why does a loving Father, through a loving Church, invite us into a wild unknown?

Because it’s not unknown… to him. He’s the one who initiates the invite every time.

Jesus’ journey into the desert began immediately after his baptism—after receiving his anointing and identity from the Father. He goes into the desert for us; truly, he doesn’t need reminders of who he is. But he goes, and he’s tempted. He struggles. He’s hungry. And it’s in this experience—as he responds to temptations with the truth of who he is and who the Father is—that Jesus receives his identity in a deeper way.

We can have that desert experience, too. In the wilderness, the Father creates a sacred place to more deeply give each person his or her identity; for him or her to receive it over and over again.

This journey often means leaving what’s comfortable and not being afraid to suffer. After all, the desert can be dangerous… if you go alone. If you’re standing at the edge of the desert, feeling a nudge to go for it: beg for the courage to go. God is waiting for you there.

If you want to be healthy, happy and holy—and truly, these things are possible!—you have to live intentionally. It’s not going to happen by accident.

The small things are the foundation for that kind of life; getting out of bed on time, showing up to that planned workout, cooking the healthy groceries sitting in the fridge instead of firing up that food delivery app (again).

Because things fall in order when you’re living in order.

This consistency is often hidden… boring, even. It’s often anything but flashy. But there’s grace in these small, simple, hidden acts—they build our hearts and allow us to sacrifice ourselves.

What’s one thing you can do that will move you towards being holier, healthier and happier? Seriously… take a second. Bet something came to mind. Right?

Sometimes we overcomplicate the plan. When there’s a lot to change, or the change is going to be rough, it’s tempting to bail on starting. It’s easy to avoid doing the hard things, even the little hard things. Maybe especially the little things—but that’s how holiness happens. Choosing to do the small hard thing, for Jesus, over and over and over again.

You got this! With God’s grace, you can totally do hard things. That realization—that we're capable of persevering—gives us the confidence that we have what it takes to gladly do what needs to be done.
So stay simple. Keep the main thing the main thing. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” All of all three. Because keeping Christ firmly in the center of your life—the focus of all your energy and the motivation for all your choices—is the only sustainable way to live radically for him for a whole lifetime.

This week, we welcome a special guest for the first in a three-episode series: Jackie Mulligan of Reform Wellness.

 “It’s ok to not be ok… and it’s also ok to want to be ok.”

 God loves and accepts us as we are, in all the messiness of our weakness. And his love also draws us to renewal; to real change that leads to real holiness, happiness, and a life that’s abundant.

 Life-changing renewal is possible and it’s what God wants for us. But it doesn’t happen by accident.

 It takes intention. It takes risk. It takes very honestly asking yourself, But, really… how am I doing? If the answer demands an overhaul of your life, there will be temptation to put it off—don’t give in! Fight through that resistance. This is God’s initiative.

 Because if you don’t, well, as a very honest friend of Fr Angelus’ once told him, “If they wrote a book about your life, this would be a really boring chapter.”

 And a life that’s a little too safe and comfy and boring is an enemy of holiness. So let God change it. Let him change you.

We welcome a pretty special guest this week... Br Kolbe, of "He likes cars" renown!

 Let's get right to it: interior poverty. Facing our own brokenness, weakness, failings. Not the first place we want to go, right? But here’s the thing… there’s no way around it. The “secret” way to following Jesus is coming to terms with our poverty—with him, as he gives us the grace to be able to see it and not be overwhelmed by it. Getting to that place of emptiness allows him to fill us with peace and trust.

 There’s a divine efficiency to poverty. The Lord can work more directly when we are depending solely on his grace and not on any false securities that get in his way.

 It’s the only way. And that might not sound like good news, but that’s because we have worldly ears. Hear it this way: this only way is hard, but it’s with Jesus, he who brings sweetness to difficulty.

 So go there. Don’t avoid your spiritual poverty—Jesus meets you there.

If you live community life well, if you live family life well, people are going to see your sins and weakness and failures. That can be a hard place. But if you can stay there, and people can stay there with you: that’s the good stuff. That’s the place of abundant fruit.

Real fraternity—the love of brothers and sisters—is powerful.

 There can be a real infection in our hearts today that comes from experiences of rejection. We need spaces where we can rejoice in one another despite our weaknesses: moments of welcome and mercy that redeem our life experiences. 

 This has to start somewhere. Where does this happen? In intentional relationships where we decide to have mercy on each other. 

 People who keep choosing community, keep choosing to be patient with each other and have mercy on each other. To keep saying, “yeah, it’s hard, but I’m here and I’m not going to leave you.”

“There are so many voices telling me I’m not good enough, not worthy of that love. And lots of voices saying that this kind of freedom doesn’t matter or isn’t possible. That I can’t experience true forgiveness or true healing or true conversion. That’s where the battle is fought.”

We hear a lot of voices. And the gift of prayer is a space where we can hear the one voice that matters. Blessed are those who root out the distractions in their lives, for they will know God.

As baptized Christians, we are made for prayer. Everyone is called to open up Scripture, encounter Jesus, and live the Gospel.

We want to follow Jesus—and the way to follow Jesus is prayer. Our lives only make sense in the context of relationship with Him. And it’s only when we get rid of anything that is blocking or distracting or interfering with this relationship that our interior life can be what it’s supposed to be; an interior life that gives life new meaning.

This could be your breakthrough in discernment, too. It will transform discernment from a calculation to a chance to give yourself away in love.

To embrace sacrifice and boldly say to the Father, “Lord, I give you permission to take what I’m not strong enough to give.”

Mentioned in this episode...

The Godsplaining Podcast

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/godsplaining

A Work of God by Vianney Vocations, now available for pre-order.

https://www.vianneyvocations.com/product/a-work-of-god/ 

Even when we’re actively trying to trust God in all things, there’s a constant temptation to take back control. To just do it ourselves. To bail out of surrendering to Him, and keep things from Him to try and “make sure they get done.” We forget, over and over, that God takes initiative, does things, takes care of us. We overlook the ways He’s doing that right now.

What’s opposite that temptation? God’s constant invitation to let go, to trust, to forget about ourselves, to get over ourselves. To find that balance of letting God do everything while our fiat also provokes us to action.

 SO.

If you want to live differently;

if you crave renewal, restoration, conversion in your life;

it’s possible. It’s real!

Most of all: it’s a work of God. 

This episode kicks off a new series moving through a collection of images and essays of the CFR community called A Work of God by Vianney Vocations, now available for pre-order.

Sometimes we need to stop and take a real look at what’s going on in our hearts and our lives. What has power in my life? Who has influence over me? And if God isn’t the first authority—by a mile—then it’s time to reorder. It’s time to get back to relationship with Him above everything else.

 Because Jesus isn’t meant to be one priority among many. We can’t balance our pursuit of Him with other things, even good things. The only way to living intensely with the Lord—the only way to become a saint—is to accept sacrifice. It’ll cost you something, perhaps even a good thing that you’d really rather not give up. But it’s worth it. 

 Living this way, with Christ, protects us from being tossed around in whatever storms are raging. (And it’s been a stormy year.) With Christ, the world and its storms no longer dictate our mood or determine whether we feel unsettled or unsafe. God alone is in control of our peace.

So if you’re sensing distractions or attachments or clutter in your life that are keeping you from God; if you’re holding on to one thing that’s actually holding you back from Him; if you’ve been thinking about letting go of something that’s keeping you from being all in with God… now’s the time. Drop it and return to God. Return to your first love.

Isaiah 25: “The Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces.”

We face suffering in this world; trials and hardships and pain that can leave us feeling so alone.

In Advent we wait to celebrate Jesus coming to us in the Incarnation, and for him to come at the end of time, when he will definitively wipe away all tears.

But he also comes to us today. Wherever we are, whatever we're feeling; he gently comes near to us and wipes away our tears. When we cry out to God, he hears us. He sees our suffering. He does not pass by or overlook us. Whether we’re publicly begging for him or privately weeping to him, each day can be a mini Advent in our hearts, welcoming the Savior who comes to us.

Our hope is sure. The Lord comes to comfort us, and we can experience that breakthrough in prayer, even today.

Let’s take an honest look at our expectations of God. Specifically, how our wounds and weakness can make us expect so little of him. The times when we feel threatened by others, insecure about ourselves, anxious about life—these are all fruit of a small heart with small expectations of what our mighty Father will do.

Jesus says he will come. So do we believe him? And when he comes to us—at Bethlehem, at Mass, every day—are our eyes open to see him?

 Our hearts are meant to be bigger. Advent is a time for our hearts to expand with Christ’s own heart. Jesus shows us how to have joyful expectations and real confidence that the Lord has revealed his goodness throughout history, continues to work today in our lives and the lives of all those around us, and will continue to work in the future.

God has promised that he will come. Now’s the time to pray with filial boldness and be available to him, awaiting his promise with joyful expectation.