Come Holy Spirit

“Come, Holy Spirit,” we pray. We seek a new job, we long for a new relationship, we agonize over a life-altering decision. If we are wise, we know that we do not face an uncertain future alone. We hear the words of the sequence that we pray on Pentecost, “Give the faithful joys that never end.” And yet, we struggle.

“Honey, call me,” my mother said in a phone message a few weeks ago. “Your father said that you got the new job you wanted, and I am sure that if you had told me I would have fussed over you.” How could I return that phone call to my mother who just the day before had shared my excitement about going back to work – and in the very same school that I had attended as a child? This time I would be returning as principal, but my mother was having a hard time keeping it all straight. “Come, Holy Spirit,” I pray. I want to pray for the gift of memory for my mother, but I think that the gifts of patience and endurance and humor are the ones that we are all going to need far more as remembering gets harder and harder for Mom. Memory isn’t returning, so we need the grace of the Holy Spirit to speak in ways that Mom can hear without frustration or upset. And isn’t there a larger lesson for life in that? I know that so often I want to pray in ways that tell God what to do. But over and over life keeps teaching me to pray much more simply, “Come, Holy Spirit, and do the work in me that must be done so that I can do your work.”

“Come, Holy Spirit,” we continue to pray. We need your gifts, but so often we try to lay claim to the wrong ones. Remind us often to be open to God’s holy will, to that which will make us holy in return.

I celebrated my new job – but there was a catch in my throat as I started to greet my new students and their families. I selfishly wanted my mother there to be proud of me in my accomplishment. But the fire of the Holy Spirit burned in me and reminded me that it was time for me to become the best of my mother and share her love with my new “family.” And my prayer was answered for there were and will be “joys that never end” if only I am open to them.  ~ Sr. Laura