Tuesday, September 29, 2009


I am afraid to listen to God because I’m afraid of what He might ask me to do.

A common enough sentiment. Of course what those who say this are afraid of is not what God is calling them to but change. As you know about the only people who like change are wet babies and even they cry about it. But think about it; what could God possibly call you to? If God is GOD and it is He that is truly calling you to something what are the only possible characteristics of that to which He is calling you? If it truly is of God it is only possible that it would be that which is:
and Virtuous

If it is anything else it is not of God.

And if it is of God it can only, ultimately, bring you joy. You may have to pass through the fire first, but ultimately joy.


Are you afraid of holiness? Are you afraid of loving? Are you afraid of

Are you afraid of joy?

If you are afraid you are not afraid of these. You could not possibly be. You are afraid of leaving the known for the unknown. Satiation has killed many a sainthood. Has crushed joy. Has spoiled virtue. Has left too many people dissatisfied at best; ruined at worse.

“Be not afraid,” John Paul II told us. If it what God is calling you to then you have nothing to be afraid of except not accepting the call to change – not accepting joy.


ck said...

Once I tried to get a priest to tell me what the Church actually taught (e.g., is it OK to see psychics or get tattoos) and he told me that there is some rule that says that priests are still entitled to get a certain number of bales of hay for their horses each month. I think he was trying to tell me that my search will only reveal antiquated rules so stop asking questions. I avoided any other research for fear I would find the Church would tell me I was going to hell for wearing pants. Needless to say, I found a whole new world of wonderful when I worked up the courage to see what the Church really taught.

Anonymous said...

I'm afraid to let this message sink in too deeply, because then, I might have to . . . change. Thanks, Father.