The Unabandoned Life Is Not Worth Living

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ve probably picked up on the fact that I recently packed everything I own into the trunk of my Mazda3 (okay, my mattress pad is in the back seat), waved goodbye to Kansas after a 2 year exile in the flatlands, and headed out to God knows where.  I left a job and friends and great students to do…well…I’m not exactly sure what.  I know what I’m expecting (speaking and retreats and blogging and whatnot), but all I know for sure is that God asked me to leave and that he’ll take care of the rest.  No home, no job.  For the time being, I’m living out of the car.*

It’s interesting the kind of reactions I get to this.

Non-religious person: “Oh–wow!  That’s really…” stupid? “um…” crazy? “um…great that you’re going to…find yourself.  What a wonderful journey.”  At which point I feel like a flake and a cliché.

This is totally what prayer does to you.

Nominal Christian: “Oh–wow!  That’s amazing!  I could never trust God like that.  You’re really an inspiration.  What a wonderful journey.”  At which point I feel like a fake and a fanatic.

Holy Christian: “Nice.  I’ll pray for you.”  At which point I’m disappointed that they’re not more impressed.  (But relieved that they didn’t use the word journey, which is probably my least favorite word in the English language.  This might be because every episode of The Bachelor–don’t judge me–uses that word at least 35 times.  My sister and I toyed with the idea of a drinking game involving the word “journey” on The Bachelor but decided that even doing it with water might kill us.)

Because this is how you find true love.

This weekend, I got to catch up with a bunch of old friends at Fr. Tom’s ordination and had the humbling experience of repeatedly being asked, “So what are you up to these days?”

It was a real flash back to the last time I had no answer to this question, right after leaving the convent. People kept asking me what I did and I kept having to swallow my pride and tell them I was nannying for my sister’s baby.  For a type A fool like me, that was hard.  Especially when I saw the look in people’s eyes wondering what on earth I thought I was doing shelling out for a Notre Dame degree (or two) and then living on someone’s futon and working for free.

This weekend, it was much the same.  “Well, I just left Kansas…” I’d say.

“Oh, and where are you going now?”

“Well, I don’t exactly know.”

“Oh….”

One kind soul said, “Oh, that’s all right.  You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“No!” I couldn’t help responding.  “I had it figured out.  And it was all great.  God just had something better.”

A better woman would have bit her tongue and allowed the world to see her as aimless and flaky.  I’m too proud for that.  So I explain it all.

“You see, I was teaching.  But then I felt that God was calling me to step out on faith and leave that.  He asked me to be homeless and unemployed and I had to trust him.  So I’m going to be traveling and speaking and blogging and writing a book and I think it’s going to be really great.”

Which, of course, is code for “I’m really holy and trust God a lot and by the way you should invite me to come speak at your church/school/ministry.”

And Christians are suitably impressed and non-Christians are suitably disturbed (which is generally how my life goes) and look at me I’m preaching the Gospel and everyone knows how awesome I am!

Here’s the thing, though: there’s nothing impressive about this.

No, really.  That’s not humility (I don’t do humility, more’s the pity).  It’s just fact.  I serve a God who made the mountains and moves them when he wants, a God who made the sea and the storm and then walked on the waves and calmed them, a God who heals lepers and the blind.  My God sent his Son to die for me–why wouldn’t he give me everything I need?  (That’s a little Romans 8:32 for you.)  What’s scary about living out of my car with a credit card and savings and a bunch of couches to crash on when God provides for people who don’t even take a second tunic?

So when I give everything away and quit my job without any particular destination in mind (which has happened twice now), it’s not so much faithful as smart.  You see, somewhere in my 28 years, I figured out that, despite all the impressive things I can put on my resume, I’m actually quite dumb.  In everything that matters, anyway.  I can’t seem to get past myself enough to see what’s best for me.  I spent a good 10 years pining away for a man–any man–before God knocked me over the head to show me something that fits me so much better.  I hated myself for most of college because I couldn’t figure out how to stop being me and start being that quiet, pious girl in the chapel.  It didn’t occur to me that maybe I was actually made to be me, loud and obnoxious and awkward as I am, that perhaps God actually made me that way because he wanted me that way, not so that I had something to overcome.

You see, I can barely even see who I am now and what I want today, let alone who I was made to be and what I’ll need to be that person.  And I’ve fought God and just come out the other side tired and unhappy (and in need of a good confession).   But when I’m abandoned to his will–as much as I’ve ever managed to be–there’s something energizing about that.  Oh, there’s still suffering.  Often there’s more suffering in following God than there is when you turn your back on him.  But there’s meaning to that suffering, and purpose, and healing.

And God starts taking care of all the details and mapping out your life for you, with lovely morning greetings like this:

If only God communicated through greeting cards....

Okay, no, it’s not that easy.  You’ve still got to discern and, usually, make money and pay bills and work hard.  But ultimately, it’s on him.  He’s made you that promise: that he will provide.  Your job is to pray and love and fight for holiness and never, never to worry.

Believe me when I say this isn’t going to make life easy.  Trying to do God’s will–letting go of your own understanding of who you are and surrendering to his truth–is about as hard as it comes.  Obedience isn’t easy; but it’s simple.  It’s a matter of choosing truth, goodness, and beauty, even at the expense of yourself.

I’m not talking here about how to figure out God’s will. That can be widely different for each person and in each situation (although I talked a little bit about my journey (gag) here).  I’m talking about those times when we know what God is calling us to.  Maybe that’s obvious stuff like getting help with your porn problem or getting to Mass on Sunday or carrying on a civil conversation with your stepmother.  Maybe it’s a matter that took some real discernment like entering religious life, leaving a job, or ending an unhealthy relationship.  Maybe it’s something that you’re not sure yet about but it just keeps nagging at you.

I’m sure most of us right now have something that we really know, if we’re being honest with ourselves, we have to do–some change of behavior or major or job or marital status or attitude or diet.  Stepping out like that does take faith.  But I’m telling you that God always comes through.  Always.  That’s just who he is.  It’s not a matter of learning to trust that he’ll give you what you want–God forbid he should give us what we want!  It’s a matter of learning to trust that ultimately–ultimately, not immediately–he’ll bring us to a joy so deep any struggles we may have on the way will pale in comparison.

It doesn’t always seem to make sense.  God told Abraham to leave his family and country–and Abraham went.  Jesus asked a bunch of fishermen to leave their nets and their boats and their father and go change the world.  And they didn’t hem and haw and finish college or build up their savings or wait till the kids were grown first.  Immediately they went, Scripture says.  At once they left it all behind.  Even though they had no idea what he was asking them to do.

But there’s a freedom in that obedience.  The freedom of living in God’s will.  Freedom from regret or doubt or (eventually and God willing) fear.  More importantly, there’s the freedom you give to God to bless you beyond your wildest imaginings.  That might be through opportunities he could only give you when you followed him; it might be through the joy of life lived in grace; if might just be through the growth in holiness that comes from following him.  Whatever it is, he can’t give it to you (yes, I just said God can’t) until you surrender to him.

If you fix your eyes on Jesus, you can walk on water.  So forget your fears and your attachments and your plans and your will and just get off the boat.  Maybe you’ll sink.  If you do, he’ll catch you.  But if you don’t–oh, friend, imagine!

 

If you’re up for it, I’d love to hear in the comments about what God is calling you to abandon to him.  It’ll help me to pray for you 🙂

 

 

*I’m actually writing this from the passenger seat of my sister’s car, sitting in the library parking lot using their wireless as my super-ornery niece finally naps in her car seat.  I tried books and songs and prayers and pajamas in the middle of the day and lunch and that awkward bend-over-her-stroking-her-back-while-singing-praying-to-God-she-finally-falls-asleep-in-her-crib move and putting John Paul down for his nap in the same room and she just alternated between sobbing in her crib or playing happily out of it.  So my sister’s watching John Paul and Cecilia and I are depleting the ozone layer running the engine so we don’t die of heat in this car.  In case you wanted to know the inspiration of this post which started off being about living out of my car but doesn’t really seem to be anymore.

Author: Meg

I'm a Catholic, madly in love with the Lord, His Word, His Bride the Church, and especially His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity in the Eucharist. I'm committed to the Church not because I was raised this way but because the Lord has drawn my heart and convicted my reason. After 2 degrees in theology and 5 years in the classroom, I quit my 9-5 to follow Christ more literally. Since May of 2012, I've been a hobo for Christ; I live out of my car and travel the country speaking to youth and adults, giving retreats, blogging, and trying to rock the world for Jesus.

13 thoughts on “The Unabandoned Life Is Not Worth Living”

  1. My admiration and prayers go out to you, perhaps your experience and blog will turn into a book?!?!?! What lessons we could all learn! I hope to continue to follow you in your new adventure in life!
    Gods blessings to you!

  2. God is calling me to abandon discernment of marriage to the man I’m dating to Him. Which is really hard, because I’ve been praying and trying to abandon it to Him FOREVER it seems and never feel sure of what God is trying to tell me. I just started a Rosary novena…so hopefully in the next 54 days I get an idea so I can feel at peace about a decision one way or another. I’ll pray for you and appreciate your prayers! If you are ever in Omaha, I have an inflatable air mattress with your name on it!

    1. Beth, I’m on my way to make a holy hour–I’ll offer it for you 🙂 And I’ll totally take you up on that Omaha deal!

    2. When I was praying for you, I got Psalm 37 with these antiphons: Surrender to God, and he will do everything for you. Turn away from evil, learn to do God’s will; the Lord will strengthen you if you obey him. Wait for the Lord to lead, then follow in his way.

      Not a lot of clarity, but a lot of confirmation that seeking God will bring you clarity.

  3. I found your blog via Standing on My Head and I’m hooked!

    I’ve just moved to a new country with my husband and children and I have a feeling that the next few years will not only be about living in a completely new culture and exploring this part of the world. I don’t know what God has in plan for me yet but I have a feeling that this adventure will teach me a few things about doing His will.

    In case you decide to travel to South-East Asia I’ll be happy to have you as a guest. The number of Christians is growing here and there would be plenty of opportunity for your work.

    Looking forward to your future posts.

    1. Thanks so much, Natasa! You and your family will be in my prayers. Think how amazing it is that when God sparked the creation of the universe, he did it *so that* you would be in this crazy new life! What a blessing to live in his will.

  4. I’m a young mother of two kids. My husband and I are having a really hard time in our marriage, to the extent that I was seeking The Lord as to if I was to leave the marriage. As I was praying about it tonight, thinking about the affect on our sweet babies I felt The Lord say very clearly; be obediant and I’ll take care of the rest!

    1. Oh, Shi, I am so sorry to hear it! Please know of my prayers for you, your husband, and your children. Praise God for having heard his voice and for the grace to listen and follow!!

  5. As we draw near to God He draws near to us. A life fully abandoned to God is never a waste. Read the life of the desert fathers. Dont let others opinions determine your obedience.

    May your life be a fire that sets others ablaze with wreckless love for the One True God, our Father and Friend.

  6. Meg, I was just attempting to write in my journal several lessons God has been teaching me. He has asked our family (my husband, three young kids, and me) to leave the life we know and join a ministry in another country. While I was trying to record what He’s teaching me, the words “abandoned life” came to mind. I stopped mid-sentence and googled those words, and your blog post appeared. As I read your story, I am floored by the similarities. Would it be possible to talk sometime or to email separately? Since this post was several years ago, I’m not even sure if you still monitor the comments.

  7. I’m currently in the very beginning stages of writing a book about the abandonment and Christianity. I enjoyed your post and would like to ask you a few questions. I know you wrote this post several years ago, but if your interested, please respond to this. I’d love to talk to you about it more.

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