My husband asked me why I was being nice instead of sharing the snarky comment the expression on my face expressed.
Looking at him, I announced that I was trying to “will the good” of others in my life, and I had thought it would be a simple thing to do.
“It’s hard,” I reluctantly admitted.
That made him smile.
Mistakenly, I thought willing the good of others wouldn’t be so difficult. I envisioned that I could just close my eyes and think good thoughts and be finished, and I was curious to see how willing the good brought change to other people’s lives.
I had been praying about loving others and making a purposeful effort to will the good, and, of course, I couldn’t help but look for tangible signs that I was on the right path. I wondered if our bug guy knew I was praying for him as he figured out why ants were sneaking in our sliding door. I asked God’s blessing on the driver who delivered my groceries today, and then I gave her a cold bottle of water and prayed for her family after she left. I wondered if she felt the peace of prayer for her and if this was how Jesus lived, loving everyone he encountered and willing their good. I also wondered when I would start feeling Jesus-like myself.
But the more I exercise willing the good of others, the less Jesus-like I feel. I begin to question how Jesus lived and if he ever just got frustrated with this loving thing. Yet, forging ahead, I continue to will the good for my husband, children, and grandchildren and ask God to cover them in his light. I will goodness for my neighbor, who parks his car in front of our house each night, and I wonder if my prayer can cover my irritation or if being annoyed while praying even counts. I will the good for my hairdresser, who comes to my house to cut my hair when I am having a bad day. As he leaves, I give him a hug and blurt out awkwardly, “I am praying for you.”
Although there aren’t any tangible signs that this loving thing is working, I sit quietly with God and listen to my heart, and I begin to question myself. I realize that it is much safer to stay firm in my thinking and judgments. Yet, as I pray for others, my heart softens, and I see them in a new light. It is not a “pray and be done” thing anymore, because I realize that I am connected to them as brothers and sisters in Christ. I begin to understand that my harsh judgments can cause harm even when those thoughts don’t leave my heart or mind, and I can almost feel the stones I pile on the backs of others in my judgment of them. I also see that any love or goodness I have for others is Christ in me, and only through him can I bring real love to others.
I fall to my knees in remorse and beg God to let him alone be the judge of others and help me instead focus on my own sinfulness. I try not to worry so much about how things look, because loving others is messy, and I wonder if the constant ache in my heart means that I am on the right path. I am thankful that our God, the source of all goodness and love, is willing the good for my own life and teaching me valuable lessons about loving others.
Photo by Kindel Media on Pexels.com.
Thanks Theresa. Worldbuilding is a beautiful project. ‘Willing the Good’ at all times needs to be our way of proceeding. Some others approach the same issue by engaging themselves in willing the good through acts of mercy, compassion, and even justice.
Thank you, Theresa. I could so relate to your reflection. It was inspiring for me. I hope you have a wonderful day.
I thank you, Theresa, for this reflection.
….”and I wonder if my prayer can cover my irritation or if being annoyed while praying even counts.”
I love the honesty of the above line. Especially hard for me is praying for someone who I don’t like.
I do feel reassured that the fact we are even trying to pray when annoyed will not go unnoticed by GOD.