Reflection for:
March 26 - April 9, 2007 - Jennifer Grant Haworth
Homeword Bound: Dot by Loving Dot
This past Wednesday, I sat down at the kitchen table with my son to explore the St. Nicholas goodies he had received in his stocking earlier that morning. Of course, there were the standard items: candy canes, chocolate kisses, and this season’s Green Bay Packers collector’s card set. But there was also a small activity book, filled with holiday pictures to color, puzzles to solve, and other fun stuff to do on a cold, snowy evening.
Before long, my son invited me to color a few pictures with him. I grabbed some crayons and, inspired by the feast day, started on my version of a green and gold St. Nick. In a few moments, my son looked at me as an ear-to-ear grin grew across his face, and exclaimed, “Cool, Mom! I love these things!” He had stumbled upon this [hold up dot-to-dot picture]. As Marc went about the task of connecting one dot to the next, he said enthusiastically, “I can’t wait to see what picture is hidden in these dots!”
I smiled and thought, “That’s right.” The metaphor wasn’t lost on me. “Thank you, God,” I whispered. In the midst of my own mid-life awakening, God had spoken to me through a child. All I needed to do was connect one dot to the next, each in its own time, and a clearer picture was sure to emerge.
Five years ago, I accepted Bill Creed’s invitation to participate in the Spiritual Exercises retreat at Loyola. Looking back, I now can see that the Exercises served as an “anchor” dot on my journey. During that year, I was challenged to connect and make sense of various “dots” in my life. Since then, I have remained an intentional wayfarer, moving slowly from one dot to the next on what has become for me a homeward-bound journey.
In her latest book, Firstlight, Sue Monk Kidd writes that “Our stories are the best bread we can offer one another.” That seems “just so right” to me. This evening, I’d like to share some of my story with you in hopes that it might feed you in some way.
As I prayed about the story I wanted to share with you tonight, three phrases from the first chapter of John’s gospel leapt to mind. My wayfaring began with a wake up call from Jesus, who gently asked, “What are you looking for, Jennifer?” Embraced by love, I offered a question of my own: “Teacher, where are you staying?” Since that time, my life has been an experience of being led, dot by loving dot, to “come and see” Christ at work in the world and in me.
Newly tenured and burned out from the demands of the tenure and mommy tracks, in September, 2002 I began the Exercises . Tired of meeting everyone else’s demands to the exclusion of my own, earlier that summer I had promised that I would do one thing “just for me” during the forthcoming academic year. The Exercises fit that bill in more ways than one. During my pre-retreat interview with Bill he asked one question that stood out. Little did I know that this would be the question that would mark the first dot on my journey.
“Jennifer, why are you interested in making this retreat?
What are you hoping it will do for you?”
The rawness of my reply caught me off-guard. “I’m lost,” I admitted. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I have become little more than a series of roles: Steve’s wife, Marcus’s mother, Dorothy’s daughter, Dr. Teacher Haworth, Dr. Graduate Program Director Haworth, Dr. Researcher Haworth. When I strip away those roles, I don’t know who I am. I have lost touch with my own self, and I want to find that person again.”
Then Bill gently – but in his signature Billy the Bomber way – asked, “And you think this retreat experience will help you find those answers?”
“Yes, I do,” I said honestly. “Because I know at the core of me God is there, and I know I have ignored entering deeply into that relationship for far too long. For years I have been saying to God, ‘Be patient with me. When I’m through college, or done with my dissertation, or on the backside of tenure, I’ll spend more time with you.’ It’s time to stop making excuses and to start making good on my promises. I can’t wait any longer. Somehow I believe that I’ll find myself again if I find my way back to God and the God in me.”
“What are you looking for?” became a central question of mine throughout the Exercises. It invited me to delve deeply into my relationship with God, myself, and others, while also challenging me to explore the concrete reality of those relationships. I gazed into the rose of my soul, and saw a beautiful woman, beloved of God, slowly coming back to her self. I meditated on the clay of my existence, and the ways in which the Potter had shaped – and desired to shape – me in his love and care. And I entered Lazarus’ tomb in hopes of freeing myself from the compulsive productivity bandages that had all too often imprisoned the freedom of my soul.
During that year Grace paid many a visit and asked, “Jennifer, what are you looking for?” I know now that God’s healing love met me in that space. In all of my brokenness, God invited me to see myself anew as a lovely, unfolding rose that was being liberated from the darkness of her own tomb.
By the end of my year in the Exercises, I was praising God in heartfelt gratitude for slowly bringing me back to myself and the Christ in me. And how could I not? Like the psalmist, my “mourning had been turned into dancing” as the heavy “sackcloth” of living a life defined by others’ expectations had given way to living a life of “gladness” in being the beloved (psalm 30). I felt alive again, and very much on a journey that I believed was bringing me home to God and to the God in me.
Enfolded in love and encouraged by hope, I left my experience with the Exercises ready to enter into a deeper friendship with Christ. I noticed that my response to the invitation, “What are you looking for, Jennifer,” was changing from “I want to remember who I am and who you created me to be” to “Lord, I want to know you more deeply, so that I may love, follow, and serve you more closely.” Like the first disciples, I found myself stunned and overwhelmed by the love of this man, and I wanted nothing more than to find out “where he was staying.” Little did I understand at that time that this next major dot on my journey would be one that would continue to open and grow new life in me.
Over the course of the next two years, I prayed this prayer almost daily:
“There are very few people who realize
what God would make of them
if they abandoned themselves into his hands,
and let themselves be formed by his grace.”
I ask for the grace to trust myself totally to God’s love.
Only now as I circle back and begin to “connect the dots” can I see that this was a prayer not only for greater authenticity, but also one in which I humbly and lovingly invited Jesus to show me where – and how – to live. My desire was to continue to go deeper with this stranger who had become a friend; my hope was to grow to trust him so completely that I would see more clearly where he lived while welcoming him even more intimately into the home of my heart.
What happened when I asked Jesus, “Where are you staying?”
He said, “Come, Jennifer, and you will see.” And see, I did. Three key experiences brought Jesus’ living words to life in me.
One of the first dots on this journey led me into Bill Creed and Michael’s Sparough’s Internship in Spiritual Direction. When I received Bill’s invitation to join him and 8 other Jesuit scholastics on this year-long life-affirming and life-changing experience, my first thoughts were, “Who me? Are you crazy?” But the stillness of prayer echoed a different refrain, one that kept saying, “Trust me, trust me, trust me.” I am so glad that I did. Being a spiritual companion to others has not only shown me the miraculous ways in which God works uniquely in our lives, but it has also provided me with food for my own spiritual journey, reinforcing the importance of slowing down and waiting for (and often with) God, listening carefully to the still, small voice in our hearts, and paying attention to our experience and what it can reveal to us about God’s hopes and dreams for our lives and our world.
Another dot on this journey took me to the Lake County Jail where, unbeknownst to me, a deacon at my church had concluded I might be “a good fit” with the women there. “You want me to do what?!” I blurted out to Deacon John after he cornered me at the 10am mass. “What in the world do you think makes me a ‘good fit’ for that assignment? I’m a college professor, not a social worker!” John just laughed and said, “Meet me at the jail on Wednesday night at 6pm. At least promise me you’ll take a look around before you say no.”
To be sure, I entered the jail with a few jitters that evening, but I left knowing that this was something I could not NOT do.
The two years I spent as a Lake County volunteer chaplain changed my life. I learned what a privilege it is to hear someone’s story, and how life-giving it is to simply sit and be with another. I came to understand how important music and contemplative practices can be in helping people to connect with God. And week after week I was moved by the faith of so many of these women, several of whom had allowed drugs and alcohol to destroy their lives but who now had found the courage to own their problems, to forgive themselves and others, and to seek healing -- often sharing their stories and offering prayers to companion one another as they awaited drug rehab downstate. Whatever initial fear I had when I entered that jail on that cold January evening in 2004 soon gave way to love. In the faces of those remarkable women I found Christ, and the hope that always springs eternal whenever a community of belonging, compassion, and support forms.
The third and most recent dot on my journey involved my decision to move from full-time faculty to my current administrative positions in mission and Evoke. Here I have also seen where Jesus lives – both in others and in myself. I never would have left a role that I was quite good at if I had not felt deeply that I was being lovingly invited by someone far greater than I to do so. Like my experiences with Bill’s spiritual direction internship and the jail chaplaincy, I did not seek this experience; it sought and found me. My 18 months in Mission and Ministry have taught me that sitting still and listening for God’s voice is essential to good leadership, that there is little meaningful ministry in the absence of supportive community, and that letting go and trusting God is all that ever really matters.
“What are you looking for?”
“"Teacher, where are you staying?"
"Come, and you will see."
These three simple phrases say much about my journey over the past five years. While I didn’t know it at the time, each led to important experiences that connected me more authentically to myself and to the deepest desires God and I held for each other. This spiritual homecoming has taught me much about living eucharistically, and the mission that springs forth from that calling.
You might recall that the passage I read earlier from the first chapter of John didn’t end with the calling of Andrew and Peter but, rather, with the calling of Nathaniel. Do you remember that Nathaniel stood in awe when Jesus addressed him by name? And do you recollect how Jesus reacted to Nathaniel’s surprise? He spoke these words: “Do you believe me because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? [Trust me] You will see greater things than this."
My experiences over the last five years have led me to put faith in this promise. I know that if I stay close to Jesus and listen, everything will become clear, dot by loving dot. I’ll also confess that, like my son and Nathaniel, I can’t wait to see what greater things God has in store for me when all of the dots finally connect.
“There are very few people who realize what God would make of them if they abandoned themselves into his hands, and let themselves be formed by his grace.” I ask for the grace to trust myself totally to God’s love."
Over the course of the next two years, I prayed this prayer almost daily: Jennifer Grant Haworth
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