Discernment and Obedience

I do my utmost to live in obedience if I am able to discern God’s will. Sometimes the discernment is hard. Other times the obedience is hard. Most recently, it is the latter. I am being offered the one job (a promotion to my boss's position) that I have always coveted, and I don’t believe that God wants me in that job. I have worked hard at discernment, and what I have discerned is that God would have me walk away from this job. I get lots of encouragement to take it, but I have reason to believe that these compliments are simply compliments and that I would be listening to the Evil One, should I take them for more than that and go ahead and accept the job. God put me in the job I currently have, and there are some indications that He wants me to remain in it. One of the hardest things I have ever done is say “no” to that position, but I did it two weeks ago, and I stood by that “no” when people came to me with temptations to take it.

So, whew!, matter over, right? Nope. I was at an office party today, and up came a senior official, asking me why I had turned down and then tried to talk me into changing my mind, saying I was the right person for the job. He pushed aside all my "logical" arguments. Of course, God has to consider me the right person for the job, but I can only say that to some people. Others simply do not "get it" when I give this reason. Sigh!

Promises II

I had planned to upload this post much earlier, back in June, when I posted some information along this line on my 100th Lamb site. Somehow, though, this particular posting got waylaid, and it has been lurking in my "edit posts" box ever since. Perhaps that is all well and good because my understanding of the situation has improved in the past month, and more "stuff" has happened in the past month so, clearly, I can update information at the same time as I relate it. In essence, what this post is about and why its essence changes with time is that the job God put me in seems to be going away. Well, not going away, but changing dramatically. The proposal going before the Board of Directors is to dissect it into a number of pieces (see my post, The Price of Success), give away to other division heads whole departments that have been highly successful and grown tremendously in size, and give me a new chain through which to report (equidistant from the big muckety-muck but not through my current boss).

Needless to say, all this reorganization and proposed reorganization has created a lot of stress for everyone involved. I want a stress-free, happy job, one that is focused on me and my needs, perhaps. That would be a change, for sure. I keep getting indications, though, which I stubbornly try to ignore, that indicate that God wants me focused on others and that it is not important if anything at all in my job focuses on me. Currently, I cannot point out one thing or one person who puts me, my wants, my interests, or my needs [not that I could state any of those, anyway] at the center of anything. Rather, my bosses throws tasks at me, expecting me to support them, and my employees are used to a servant leadership approach, also expecting me to support them. (Since I enjoy my current job for the most part, I don't think that deep down I really care where I fit in. I focus on mission and the people needed to accomplish the mission. When the mission is accomplished well and the people are happy, I am pleased.) But with the whole nature of my job changing over the next two years, if plans are implemented, I foresee potential mission failure and definite unhappiness among my employees, which will leave me displeased and ill at ease.

With all this weighing on me on one of those late-June days, I finished the work day rather discouraged and before coming home opened one of our trade journals. There I found advertised a good job, for which I could easily qualify, for 125% of my current salary. It was located in Portland, Maine, not far from family and where I grew up. An international job, it would have been a perfect fit for me. However, I know better than to consider a seeming match like this to be some kind of sign. I've been through that before, and I have been wrong before. I have to admit that Mme. Stubborn (i.e. yours truly) considered very strongly applying for the job even though I know that God wants me in the one I have. Most of the way home, I dwelled on the thought of escaping to greener pastures (the proverbial other side of the fence, which I do know is not really greener). And then I heard the compelling words, Come Walk with Me.

The last time I was tugged outside for a walk was with the ice halo. Then it was a gesture of love and made me feel humble (humility, I admit, is not my strongest trait as much as I would like it to be and as much as many others, including most of my employees, think it is; they simply don't know my heart as I do). This time, too, the walk was a gesture of love but in a different way: it served as a time and place to provide gentle, overt guidance. That is what I was asking for, but I did not expect to get it so concretely, so openly, and so lovingly. But I get ahead of myself.

Before taking that walk, I dropped by the Post Office, as I do every evening on the way home, San Ignatio being too impoverished to afford home delivery of mail and too small to need it. There was good news all around. Every letter I opened contained something positive. "You spoil me," I whispered, marveling that God does spoil me. I don't ask why God spoils me. I just accept the kindnesses and care with gratitude.

After reading the mail, I put on a light jacket as protection from the cool, somewhat blustery (even in the summer), evening winds, literally dropped everything, and went out for the walk I had been called to take. There I encountered peace from merely being in the Presence. That alone would have been a loving gift. God, however, is lavish in His love, and so I received more than that. I received guidance. I complained that I had spent four years building a division that someone from the national office would now lead with my assistance and would have the authority to tear apart or move into new directions with which I disagreed. Ah, right! That was pride speaking. Hm, a little more humility might be in order here. I was beginning to comprehend, but imperfectly. Then, in a way that only God can manage and that I can never explain, I realized that the question of where I should be and what is happening to my job is not about me at all. It is about the people for whom I am responsible. What will happen will be as difficult for them as it will be for me, and they will need someone to shepherd them along the new path and out into the new fields. That someone can only be me. I did not want this to be the case, but it is what it is, and that is something I can accept in spite of my stubborn tendency to fight against what I want not to be the case or what I understand only in part.

Abruptly, the wind changed from harsh to caressing, maybe because of the trees in its path or maybe because the evening had waned on or maybe just because. And there in the soft evening breeze and fading light, stubbornness met unreproving love. I would have stayed wrapped in the comfort of that love for hours, but soon I felt a little push, "Now go; you have work to do. I will be with you." There was something more, too: a promise.

So, I left the field and returned to the house. I sat down and looked at the briefing that would be given in the early morning by my boss's boss to the highest local muckety-muck, who would soon be presenting it to our national muckety-mucks. Instead of thinking about my role in the new organization, I thought about how the reorganization would affect those who work for me. One group of nearly 100 people would severely suffer. I would not be able to help them because under the new plan, they would not be working for me nor would they be working as a group but rather scattered among many teams in order to share the expertise they had gained. Suddenly, from out of nowhere (nowhere? really?) into my mind popped a "scathingly brilliant idea," to use Hayley Mills' The Trouble with Angels' character's words that always preceded some kind of momentous plan that would shake up her staid school and land her in the kitchen doing dishes for punishment. My idea was scathingly brilliant: it would shake up my organization's plan, and, since the plans had all been finalized and, more important, completely power-pointed, there was a risk in presenting a significant change right before the morning's presentation that I would probably be pushed aside with annoyance at best and angrily reprimanded at worst (but not required to do any dishes). Nonetheless, I sketched out how the changes I envisioned could be charted, and early the next month drew my boss aside and made my pitch. None of my fears came to fruition. My boss, who would normally have been strongly opposed to my suggestion, accepted my changes and quickly re-did the power points. (I think that had to do with the part about "I will be with you" from the night before.)

I still understand only in part and only imperfectly. I will, however, some day understand why God put me in this job at this time. That was the promise made in the night. It is enough.

Decision?

As promised, with an apology for the long delay, here is the follow-up to the previous post (Tasked) and the decision that I thought was finally able to make when I wrote that post. But, as you will see below, I have had to add a question mark to the title.

To backtrack briefly, I had been in formation for the Secular Franciscan Order for three years when the I received what seemed to be a tasking to take on Goliath (the subject of the previous post, in which I refer to Goliath as G), who seemed to have introduced Evil into our local SFO, if not into the regional organization. With God's help, the SFO Council took some remarkable steps to curtail G, steps I reported in the previous post. So, my tasking was complete, or so I thought.

I have not yet professed, thank God, because I think the outcome of this experience may be the decision to leave the Franciscans. The decision is only in part a result of my experience with G and Evil; it is in greater part a result of a long-term period of discernment. The question is when I might leave. I had thought the answer was "now," but after the last SFO meeting, I think that perhaps I am supposed to wait a little longer.

But I entice you without providing sufficient details for you to follow my line of reasoning. So, here are the details, at least those that I remember as of this morning. Three things lead me to believe that perhaps the SFO is not where I should end up. they are:

(1) A strong feeling that I am being called perhaps toward an association with Carmelites rather than Franciscans. While my lifestyle is very Franciscan, my spiritual experiences (especially the locutions) are not in keeping with what is accepted by leaders at the regional level of our organization and not in keeping with the experiences of most of the local fraternity. While I have developed close friendships locally and know that several of the newer people have latched onto me as someone willing to help them (not necessarily in SFO-related ways but in life-related matters), I have been feeling a growing contentment with the idea of leaving, a contentment that is stronger than the idea of staying, and a burning curiosity to learn more about Carmelite spirituality, which on the surface seems closer to my experiences. (I have for some time used St. Theresa's works and tests for authenticity as a guide.)

(2) I have prayed considerably for help in discernment. At one point, when I picked up the only Tau cross I own, planning to wear it to the SFO meeting that day, it broke into two pieces in my hands although I had put no pressure on it. I never know how to interpret such happenings, as signs or coincidences. I think they can be either. I truly miss having Fr. Barry around for guidance. For three years, this highly experienced, 80-year-old Franciscan priest served as my spiritual director (at least, de facto). However, the regional organization has chased him away to a location 100 miles distant. (Chased is the appropriate lexical choice in spite of the emotional loading of that word not being intended, but I cannot explain any of that without a much longer post.)

(3) As a result of #1, I felt the need to learn more about the Carmelites. I tracked down one nearby group, but it turns out that the only name I could find had a phone number that no longer works. Then, on a business trip to Ohio with a colleague, a peer who heads one of the four local directorates of our organization (I also head one), we stumbled into a discussion of Catholicism and our Catholic experiences. I have known her since 1983. I had no idea she was Catholic; she had no idea I was Catholic. The more we talked, the more fascinating everything became, including the fact that we had serendipitously stumbled (or been guided?) into this particular conversation, which is quite far from our everyday work and typical conversations. I took the plunge and shared with her some of my spiritual experiences, including a couple of the locutions. She did not bat an eye, which surprised me. Then she suggested I consider getting together with some Carmelites. I told her I had considered that, but I could not find a local group. Amazed by all this, she informed me that she herself is the formation director of the local group! So, I will be attending a meeting on Saturday. I am not making any premature judgments now or even at or after that meeting. I will do as Fr. Barry has taught me -- if the received "guidance/tasking" meets basic tests of authenticity, do as asked for a while and see what happens.

Meanwhile, I attended the April SFO meeting, and clarity turned to the proverbial/Biblical seeing through a mirror darkly. "Clearly," not everything is settled yet. "Clearly," the Council is making a stand against G and Evil; G at the meeting made no effort to lead the group in any direction but sat quietly distant, with vacant eyes. Just as clearly, the Council members feel unsupported. If I walk away before their work is finished, they might give up: I learned, confidentially, that two of them have been talking privately about resigning from the SFO in an effort to make regional understand their abhorrence over how Evil has infiltrated the organization. (Yet, if Evil has infiltrated regional, their resignation will bring delight, not shame or regret.) Alternatively, they might give in: G still receives strong regional support, using the basis of which he tries to influence Council meetings. The local fraternity has been without a spiritual advisor for almost a year, a fact that allows G and his regional supporters to ride roughshod over the local Council, promoting the Evil that still accompanies G. When I wonder where I fit in all of this at the current moment, having, I thought, completed my tasking, I remember E's earlier prayer about this situation and his rush to come by my house and tell me that I am supposed to see this situation through. Apparently, it is not through yet although I had hoped it would be and even thought it might be. Some days, I would like not to see it through. Then I consider that Jesus had to see something far more difficult and painful through, so I should and can be however patient I need to be and do whatever needs to be done to see this through.

N and I are now working on the next step, which I will relay in another post once it has occurred. We strongly believe that the Council needs to find a spiritual advisor, especially one who can counteract the Evil of G, support the Council members in their efforts to guide the local fraternity, and remove any reason for regional to continue stepping in to provide near-mandatory direction (direction that supports G in seeming obliviousness to the Evil that surrounds him and pervades his behavior). Sometimes I wonder if this is all a matter of politics. Then, I recount for my logical self that occasionally questions my spiritual self that God does not play politics; God counters Evil, turning bad into good. (To need a logical argument is to give partiality to my Western being. How strange Western culture is -- we can readily believe in atoms that we cannot see but cannot believe in Good and Evil that we can sometimes actually see!) The effort that God has made to help me understand what He wants me to do should be sufficient to know that this is more than politics. It is Evil in God's family -- and He wants it out of there! Sometimes I think (but who am I to "think") that everything might have been resolved already had God selected a more competent and experienced person. All I am is someone willing to do whatever God asks of me. I wonder if that is enough, but if God considers it to be enough, then it is enough. I will just have to keep trying to do as He asks and trying to discern exactly what it is that He is asking.

This then is my confession, folks. In spite of waiting for more than two weeks to prepare the promised post about a "forthcoming decision," I have no decision to report. That's the way it goes for me with discernment and with God's taskings. I think I have everything figured out and then learn that I either have it figured out wrong or have nothing figured out.

I make few decisions all by myself anymore. Although people at work think of me as decisive, I always ask for guidance before making decisions. When possible, I close my door for a minute of prayer. Where not possible, I take a minute to pray silently right where I am rooted. People often think I am reflecting before speaking, but I am not. I am praying before speaking. After all, these are God's people who work for me, including the atheists among them, and I want to know what God wants for each of them and how God wants me to treat each of them. Then I can decide how to handle each matter.

So, in the matter of Goliath and Elizabeth, no decision. Not yet. For now, I live with the question mark.

(This is #2 in a longer thread that began with Tasked.)