The new year is here, and with it, the rise and fall of many resolutions: get healthy, volunteer, go on an adventure, buy less & save more.

On New Year's Eve, I sat in front of Jesus in the Eucharist and made my own list of resolutions. I carefully spent time thinking about experiences to enjoy, people to love, knowledge to gain, and faith to encounter. I could feel my heart race with excitement over the many possibilities of growth in the new year, but my enthusiasm was paired with hesitancy to actually write anything down because pen to paper means commitment, and unfortunately I have reneged on many commitments before. A part of me acknowledged that it almost felt easier and safer to not have any goals so that if I failed to accomplish them, it wouldn't aggravate me since they weren't in set in stone.

Another reason why I felt bogged down by commitment was because of the number of resolutions I created. I lessened my lengthy list down to seven but that still seemed excessive. Would I really be able to faithfully keep seven resolutions? Last year there were many dreams that I wanted to make a reality, other aspirations to achieve, but my only New Year's resolution in 2017 was to not purchase any clothing or make any unnecessary purchases for the entire year. That meant no Amazon splurges, no indulging in lipglosses that varied in shades only a slight percentage off of all the others, and no buying clothes because Lord knows that when I said I had nothing to wear, what I really meant was that I had too many options and I couldn't narrow it down. I was steadfast in my desire to live simply and to enjoy what I already owned and made it through 2017 without growing lax in my resolve; but that was ONE resolution. Why was I now looking at myself and my life like Chip and Joanna Gaines look at a house on Fixer Upper (strong bones, great character, but needs major improvements)?

The reality of my New Year's resolutions is that I want to be all and have all. I want to be this year where I had hoped to be last year, and the year before that, and the year before that. And yet, I fear commitment, not for commitment's sake, but for fear of failing. And if that wasn't enough, I have a long list of "self-improvements" that will take a lifetime to attain.

I kept praying about my life and my list and invited the Holy Spirit to reveal to me what my desires where really leading me to, and as always, the answer was right in front of me. My longing for health, love, ministerial success, community, and adventure were scattered desires for one thing: Jesus

In "The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality," Ronald Rolheiser uses Søren Kierkegaard's definition of a saint as "someone who can will the one thing." Though many are the saint's desires, passions, and eros, they are channeled into one life-giving good.

"Most of us are like Mother Theresa in that we want to will God and the poor. We do will them. The problem is we will everything else as well. Thus, we want to be a saint, but we also want to feel every sensation experienced by sinners; we want to be innocent and pure, but we also want to be experienced and taste all of life; we want to serve the poor and have a simple lifestyle, but we also want all the comforts of the rich; we want to have the depth afforded by solitude, but we also do not want to miss anything; we want to pray, but we also want to watch television, read, talk to friends, and go out. Small wonder life is often a trying enterprise and we are often tired and pathologically over extended."

The duplicity of my desires was causing uninvited panic My seven resolutions were a clear sign that I willed to clear obstacles that were distracting me from God, but at the same time, they themselves were obstacles. To be healthy, adventurous, financially comfortable, and saintly, I just needed to focus on one goal: God! I asked the Holy Spirit to lead me to one word that would guide me to Jesus in this new year, a word that encompassed all of my resolutions, a word that be both goal and method. And that word came loud and clear.

DISCIPLINE

Discipline and disciple come from the same root word, the Latin "discipulus" which means pupil and the definition includes "control gained by enforcing obedience or order." To have discipline is to be a pupil of Jesus, also known as a disciple. And for me to be a disciple I must be obedient to His teaching and to His example. In doing this, I fulfill all of my resolutions and more.

When I surrender to God my idea of who I am and who I want to be, what I want to do, how I want to act, and where I want to go, He takes my passions and desires, sees them as good, and says, "you will do greater things than I" (John:14:12)! I

Even though the world and my passions pull me in a thousand different directions, I don't need to do or be anything except for the Lord's and I can do that by growing in discipline to learn how to listen for God's presence.

Word of the Year: Discipline

Scripture Reflection for the Year: Isaiah 43

Spiritual Companions of the Year: Chiara Luce Badano, Chiara Corbella, Gemma Galgani

If you asked me in high school or college to describe myself I probably would have started with all the things that I felt I was not: I'm not good at sports I can't play any musical instruments and my singing is subpar. My hair is, well, where do I start? My body is curvy in all the wrong places. I struggle with basic arithmetic. I've never had a boyfriend so I must not be pretty, or funny, or… you get the point. It was as if I needed to confess my faults so that people could decide upfront whether or not they wanted to be my friend. I constantly worried that if people discovered the “real” me later on in our friendship, they would think that I lied by omission.

Making a substantial list of faults sit at the top of my self-description meant that I rarely made it to the “positive” attributes that I had: I was nice, cute, fun to be around, and every other mediocre adjective. I struggled to see my depth, but luckily for me, my parents were great at making me feel loved and they always told me that I was smart and beautiful and could achieve anything as long as I worked hard. And when I went to Mass as a youth, the parish priest strongly emphasized our belovedness. I knew that I was loved by God and I was created intentionally and purposefully. I was made “very good” (Gen 1:31).

But knowing these things was different from believing them to be true.

It was easy to be jealous of famous women and also safer since a lot of their enviable qualities seemed unattainable without the help of a glam squad, photoshop, and a management team, plus it was highly unlikely that I would ever come across them in my day-to-day life. What was most difficult was when I started to look at my friends with envy. These were my friends who loved me and whom I loved in return. Friends who encouraged me, affirmed me, and sought my friendship not for what I could do for them but simply for my presence. These were now friends whose God-given talents made me rage with envy on the inside because I didn’t have them. When someone else did or had what I wanted I turned to God and questioned His generosity. Why can’t I play guitar and sing? If I did, I could worship You better. Why can’t I be more outgoing? If I was, I could evangelize better. Why can’t I be more attractive? If I was, I’d be married and preparing my spouse and kids for the glory of Heaven.

“Envy is a capital sin. It refers to the sadness at the sight of another's goods and the immoderate desire to acquire them for oneself, even unjustly. When it wishes grave harm to a neighbor it is a mortal sin: Envy represents a form of sadness and therefore a refusal of charity; the baptized person should struggle against it by exercising good will. Envy often comes from pride; the baptized person should train himself to live in humility”

Catechism of the Catholic Church 2539-2540

My heart was so prideful that it was quick to skew my desires as necessary for the Kingdom and blame God for being unfair. Being so hyper-focused on what God was doing in the lives of others made me blind to the blessings that He was bestowing on me. All I saw was what I wanted instead of what I had. It took the writing of an eighteenth century bishop and Doctor of the Church to remove the scales from my eyes so that I could see clearly. St. Alphonsus Marie Liguori wrote in “Uniformity with God’s Will,”

“Let us thank God for what, in his pure goodness, he has given us and let us be content, too, with the manner in which he has given it to us. Who knows? Perhaps if God had given us greater talent, better health, a more personable appearance, we might have lost our souls!”

Whoa! Here I was questioning God, not even realizing that He was saving me from myself! Maybe all of those things that I wanted and at times thought I deserved, would have caused me to act out of pride and to turn away from God. And it wasn’t as if God wasn’t blessing me with spiritual and even material gifts; it was that I was rejecting them for what I thought would be something better.

Envy and pride was hindering growth in my relationship with God and my friends and it was also affecting my daily disposition. I knew that I had to change or else I would suffer in my “woe is me” attitude. After reading through “Uniformity with God’s Will,” I began to pray for the virtue of humility, a sort of poverty of spirit that seeks to put God and others first, not to the detriment of self, but for the edification of all. Praying for and practicing humility meant thanking God for the good that happened to others instead of thinking, “Why not me?” It meant taking a mental and spiritual inventory of all that I had and rejoicing in it rather than asking for more. It meant knowing my heart and desires and entrusting them into the Lord’s hands, through our Lady, rather than hoarding them with no place to go. Embracing the virtue of humility was not easy, but as time went on, the joy of others became my own joy and I was authentically happier because of it.

With the continuing rise of social media, the inaccurate view of women as competitors, and the self-centered nature of society, it is easy to be envious of others, but it is also dangerous. The Catechism of the Catholic Church emphasises the importance of banishing envy from the human heart.

When I looked at my sisters in Christ with envy in my heart, I was not able to love them, and in a way, I objectified them by only seeing their gifts and talents and not their hearts. I was ashamed that I ever felt so suspicious of God’s goodness because I knew that He loved me and them all the same and that He dispensed gifts “according to the grace given us” (Romans 12:6). But since God is a giver who keeps on giving, I found peace in the gift of the sacrament of reconciliation. Envy and Pride breed sorrow, mistrust, and a lack of charity while Humility covers the soul with an abundance of peace, gratitude, and love.

So what do you do when you find yourself envying someone else?

Embrace who you are and what you have. God knows what He is doing in you and through you. You are not meant to be another person or have their exact talents, gifts, or materials because the world would miss out on who you are as a unique individual. “Know that the LORD is God, he made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the flock he shepherds.” Psalm 100:3

Start a gratitude journal. Every day, write one or more things for which you are grateful to God. When days are tough and it’s hard to be thankful, ask God to open your eyes to see your blessings. “In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18
Pray for the virtue of humility and the discipline to practice it. Read Romans 12:9-21 and find concrete ways that you can be a bearer of mutual love through the service of others. “Do nothing out of selfishness or out of vainglory; rather, humbly regard others as more important than yourselves...” Philippians 2:3
Take a break from social media and watching television. No one ever posts the worst of themselves, only the best, so it can be easy to think that everyone else’s life is happier or more exciting than your own, which can easily lead to envious thoughts. Life is more than watching other people live. Get outside and enjoy your life! “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord; plans for your welfare not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

This blog was first published in the Winter 2018 edition of Radiant Hope Magazine