We shouldn't be stressing over mismatched socks, writes Clare Lazzuri, or anything else, since God has everything in hand. (Petr Kratochvil photo)
Catholics are a people of hope. Our faith is built on the
hope that we will someday enjoy eternal life with the Holy Trinity. Sometimes,
I think, it is one thing to say we are filled with hope and a whole other thing
to actually be filled with hope.
I realized recently that I live out hope in my daily life. This revelation came to me as I spent one hour trying to make matches out of the contents of what our family refers to as “the lonely sock bag.” All parents are faced with the reality that socks don’t like to stay paired. The first chance they get, one of them makes a run for it. Where they go is usually a mystery. We did recently renovate our girls’ bedroom and found several odd socks whose mates had been waiting patiently to be reunited to the other halves. But all too often there are those single socks hanging around that will never know a mate again and no one will ever know why.
The lonely sock bag is a sign of hope. There it sits, tucked in a corner in my room, gladly receiving single socks in the hopes that, one day, a match can be made. Every so often, I dump it out, and am usually surprised at how many pairs I can make. It’s quite satisfying, really. It’s the fulfilment of hope. I don’t give up on those socks. I don’t even give up on the socks that are thread bare, faded, pilly or don’t even fit anyone in the house anymore. So I asked myself, if I’m that hopeful when it comes to old socks, why do I constantly struggle with hoping and trusting in God’s will for me and my family?
If only I treated God’s plan for me like I treat those lonely socks. I don’t worry about those socks. I don’t lose sleep over them. I don’t agonize over whether or not they will ever be matched. Yes, I do realize that socks are rather trivial compared to God’s will for my life, but the point is that if I can exercise hope and trust in the small, rather meaningless things of life, surely I can do so with the essential things.
As parents, there is no getting around worry. But we don’t have to let it consume us. Lately, my husband and I have been contemplating schooling options for our children. Obviously, the decisions we make will have a huge impact on our children. We can’t take life decisions lightly, but we can’t let them consume us. We discuss, we pray, we think, and then we discuss and pray some more. Then, we have to make the decision according to what we have discerned to be God’s will, and we move on. We place our hope and trust in God and let him guide us.
I often have to remind myself that it’s actually a betrayal of my relationship with God to constantly second-guess decisions and circumstances, or worry about the many things – health, safety, opportunities, etc. -- that are out of my control. If I really do trust in God and his will then I have every reason to be filled with hope.
How do we know when we are doing God’s will? If we really take our time to communicate as parents, spend time in front of the Blessed Sacrament if we can, and don’t forget to ask the Holy Spirit for guidance, we will generally stay on the right track. Of course, we should also judge our decisions by their fruits and don’t be afraid to revisit and change tracks if necessary. If I send my teenager to public high school and she is miserable, her grades are terrible, or her faith is endangered, then I can’t be afraid to seek another option.
If you are in the midst of making some heavy decisions, or if you are struggling with hope and trust in God’s will for your family, there’s a saint you should get to know. Her name is St. Germaine Cousins and her feast day is June 15. Her story is an incredible example of hope and trust.
Born in late 16th-century France, she suffered from illness and deformity all her life, along with abuse at the hand of her stepmother. At age 9, she was driven from the family home and became a full-time shepherdess for the family, who barely fed and clothed her. She found solace in the Mass and prayer and became known for her joy, willingness to help others, and several miracles. When her father finally stood up for her and invited her back to the house, she chose to remain with her sheep and died at age 22 in the barn, with a huge smile on her face. If anyone had cause to gripe, complain, and worry, it was St. Germaine. Her life of selfless joy and trust in the Lord can be a source of hope for all of us.
Life can be a struggle. Hope can be hard. Without hope, my kids would have a lot fewer pairs of socks. With hope, our days are brighter and we can stay focused on our heavenly goal.
Lazzuri, a wife and mother of six, writes from her home in Nova Scotia.