During Lent of 2023, I started on an adventure of a big writing project on Our Lady of Sorrows. As part of my Lenten practices that year, I decided to pray one or Mary's Sorrows each day of the week...which was so convenient since there are seven of them! That practice continued once Lent was over ...as did my writing project... and I still pray one sorrow (most!) mornings.
Each of Mary's Sorrows has it's own inspiration as we see how the virtues of our Blessed Mother shine through in the most traumatic moments of her life. There are moments in my life that I can relate to the emotional trauma of the different sorrows. Knowing how Mary continually leaned into God and trusted Him despite tragic circumstances helps me to try and do the same when life becomes dark and feels hopeless. It's also very comforting to know that I have a Mother who desires to console me and can understand what I'm experiencing when I face deep loss and grief.
The sorrow I find myself resonating with most at the moment is the Seventh Sorrow: The Burial of Jesus. Mary's unwavering trust in a moment that seemed so hopeless encourages me in the situation in my own life that seems impossible to resurrect. Mary surrendered to God's plan without knowing all of the details. Mary trusted even though her heart was shattered watching her beloved Son be tortured and killed. Mary laid down her own will as she watched Jesus' body be laid and sealed in a tomb. And in a great act of trust, Mary walked away from that tomb, not in despair, but carrying her pain in quiet perseverance as she waited on what God would do.
Waiting is hard. And it's especially hard when we are waiting for God to redeem pain and brokenness in our life or in the lives of those we love. I can't say that I always wait on God with Mary's quiet perseverance and trust. I sometimes find myself in a pendulum swing dangerously close to despair. When I'm in that dark place, I'm struggling to find hope and believe that God can or will resurrect the brokenness in my life. I'm doubting His goodness and His love for me. Those doubts can get pretty loud in my head and the more I focus on them, the more they grow (and grow and grow) so that they are the only things that I can think about. My fear and anxiety drown out God's truth and light.
But just like the tomb wasn't the end of the story, our own struggles don't end in the darkness. God is always with us and will never leave us or forsake us (see Deuteronomy 31:8), even if we can't feel Him at the moment. Like Sister Miriam James Heidland says on the Abiding Together Podcast Season 14 episode 22, we need to "accept the fragments" that God sends us each day. While God certainly could, (and it would be amazing if He would!), fix our pain and trauma in an instant, that's not usually the way He works. Rather, God sends us what we need a fragment at a time. As we learn to look for and accept the fragments He sends, God teaches us to trust Him and turn to Him in our emotional poverty more and more.
And as we gather the fragments that God always sends-things like a Bible verse that touches our heart, a song that speaks to our pain, a spouse or friend that wants to sit with us in our brokenness, a book that consoles us, a bird or a butterfly or a flower that is meaningful to us, or in any way because God is God and He can use anything(!)- it lets a little bit of light push back the darkness that we are feeling. And as we collect the fragments and more light and hope comes in, we are able to return to our stance of surrender and waiting with patient perseverance, just like Mary teaches us.
