What If?

We all come down with it now and then: a nasty case of “What if?” or a nagging bout of “If only….”

• What if I’d been raised Catholic -- or had become one earlier in life?

• If only I’d known what the sacrament of marriage was really about before I took my vows

• What if I’d been Catholic when I first had my children?

The “what-ifs” and “if-onlys” persuade us that if we had just embraced the fullness of Catholic faith sooner our marriages would be stronger, our kids would be holier, and our relationships with God deeper. We would have fumbled and stumbled less, made far fewer mistakes and would have sinned less often.

While it’s quite possible that all these things are true, what we’re really wondering when we ponder these possibilities is, “What if I’d been born a different person? What if I’d been influenced by a different family? A different set of friends?” And while these speculations are often intriguing, they’re also usually quite fruitless.

Each of us is, whether we like it or not, a part of God’s marvelous plan. He has specific plans for you and for me, and the best we can hope for in this life is to discern, “through a glass, darkly” (1 Cor. 13:12), a rough outline of the plan. Does this mean that God ordained from all time that I would be born into a non-Catholic family? Well, yes and no. He knew it. That is certain. But whether He actively ordained it (as in God’ active will) or merely allowed it (as in God’s passive will) is unknown to me. And, ultimately, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I examine where I am today, at this moment, and ask God to be with me. Now. Today. Tomorrow. Always.

I might be tempted, as you might be, to ask why the Lord plopped me into the middle of an extended family that has never been Catholic, never wanted to be Catholic, and still doesn’t care to be Catholic (or to hear much about it.) I don’t really know but again, one thing is certain: He knows what He’s doing, even when I don’t have a clue. Certainly He granted me this grace for my own salvation, but could it be that He also did it so that I might be light and salt to those in my life who know no other Catholics? While this isn’t always an enjoyable or enviable position to occupy, it is an awesome one indeed. I have seen my own Catholicism have a profound effect on at least four people: my husband, who joined the Church five years after I did, and our three children.

Father Jean Pierre De Caussade, in his spiritual classic Abandonment to Divine Providence speaks of “the sacrament of the moment.” He reminds us that we are to accept everything that comes to us, moment by moment, as God’s holy will, and to cheerfully, joyfully embrace all things, even (especially) the sufferings and pain. Being a convert can include suffering but when we embrace the crosses that accompany our conversions, not only do we grow closer to God but we also more clearly see His movement in our lives.

Though, of course, I never compare myself to the great saints (unless it is to see the distance between us), I certainly look to them for inspiration and the will to persevere. I think of Mary Magdalene … Peter … Paul … St. Augustine. Shall we question God’s plan for them? Or shall we accept that the Lord knew exactly what He was doing when He allowed Paul to persecute Christians before he became one himself? Don’t we trust that God allowed St. Augustine to intimately know an immoral life before he turned away from it so that Augustine could be a light to us? Modern day Augustines, weary of fleshly pleasures, longing for something real and true, hear God speak directly to them when they read Augustine’s words. He was allowed to live a particular kind of life that God’s glory might shine through him for centuries to come.

Most of us will never be an Augustine, or a Paul. But we are called to be instruments of God’s glory. The next time you find yourself lingering on a “What if?” remind yourself that God has given you your particular circumstances, your particular conversion, your particular gifts, for a reason. Then, live in that “sacrament of the moment,” and put those gifts to use. Now that you are a Catholic, put the “What ifs” and “If onlys” of your pre-conversion days behind you. Ask yourself only this: “What if I live every moment for God?” Then ask Him to give you the grace to do just that.

(This essay originally appeared in The West Texas Catholic.)