Cling to God, for this too will pass

CatholicAnchor.org
You know you’re having a bad day when the newspaper’s comics page makes you cry.

The little boy in “Family Circus” is holding his fish bowl up to some unseen parent. The lone fish is lying flat and lifeless on the water’s surface.

“Can’t we take him to the vet just in case?” the child asks.

Okay, maybe that’s funny to you, but as I said, I was having a bad day and it brought a tear to my eye. I could hear the plaintive, pleading little voice. A dead pet is still a dead pet.

Anxiety is a deadly thing, and I’m prone to it. But before I talk about anxiety, let me say that as a mom I witnessed the life and death of many gold fish. Like all kids, my children wanted pets. The last child was the best nagger, or perhaps we were just worn down by then, but for her we got a dog.

Before that, we’d witnessed the sad death, probably by neglect, of a hamster, and the comings and goings of innumerable fish. Goldfish are inevitably doomed, but nevertheless my kids conducted a few fish funerals with back yard burials. No toilet flushing corpses for us, at least at first. My children, raised with Catholic ritual, wanted a ceremonial farewell. At the funeral of the unfortunately named Poop Head, a neighbor with a sense of humor came over, we solemnly convened in the living room, and he began his eulogy.

“I didn’t personally know Poop Head,” he intoned, “but I’ve heard wonderful things about him.”

No gold fish has ever received a finer send-off.

But anxiety. Ah, anxiety can rob us of both the humor and the hope that makes this beautiful life bearable and resilient.

Today, in an effort to combat my worry, I watched a video with Jesuit Father Greg Boyle. He runs Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles for former gang members and wrote the wonderful book “Tattoos on the Heart” about the spiritual lessons of his ministry.

“Anxiety happens,” Father Boyle said, “when we’ve forgotten to delight in the present moment.”

Ah, that mindfulness of the present moment stuff, so clearly necessary to spiritual growth and yet so darn hard to achieve. Often, on either side of the present moment lies a swamp in whose muddy waters we slog. Guilt or regret can cloud our memories; fear of what might happen and the inevitability of aging and decline dampen our joy in the future.

But here I stand, in the glory of a sun-filled day, with love around me, and I choose to bask in the swamp rather than the moment.

What’s the solution? Obviously, anyone who cries over a goldfish joke is no expert, but I know the route I must take. Morning prayer is essential, sometimes just the solitude of centering prayer, softly handing off each anxious thought and distraction to the God who loves me.

It helps to carry a favorite reassurance from Scripture in my heart, like Psalm 121:8: God “guards our going and coming, both now and forever.” Action helps, like doing my writing assignments or even cleaning the house. Exercise. Call a friend and have lunch. Perform a good deed. Laugh. Remember long-ago goldfish funerals — as long as you can find them amusing.

Father Boyle quoted a friend: “To be is to be anxious. We all experience those times of anxiety. The important thing is to cling to the knowledge that this too will pass, and to cling to God, who remains constant in good times and bad.”

The writer is formerly from Anchorage. She now lives in Omaha, Neb.