My Misdirected Hope

My anxious heart

I climbed into bed as voices from the hotel’s hallway met my ears. Wishing I’d brought earplugs, I picked up my phone and searched for the sound machine. With the time difference I needed to wake early the next morning and wanted to fall asleep quickly. And though I was tired, I was also anxious–but I wasn’t sure exactly why. Setting down my phone, I picked up my Rosary and closed my eyes. With the weight of the beads draped across my hands and the Crucifix in my fingers, I turned to the One I knew would help me see behind my feelings…

Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.

~1 Peter 5:7

I was out of town at the Catholic Medical Association’s annual education conference. I knew no one there, but that wasn’t the problem. In fact, one year prior I had attended the same conference for the first time, also without knowing anyone, and the experience had been incredible. Being surrounded by other healthcare professionals who also view their work as ministry—as a unique opportunity to love their neighbor—invigorated my existing passion for my profession. Meeting others and listening to the presentations was an inspiring affirmation of what I know to be true: Healthcare is a vocation. Through it, God has called me to see and serve each patient I encounter, not simply to treat their medical condition. If that wasn’t enough, the conference also offered daily Mass, time for Adoration, and the opportunity for Confession, all of which I had participated in. Considering the healing I personally experienced while there, in many ways it felt more like I’d attended a retreat than an educational conference.

So why, on the eve of the conference, was I anxious?

Preparing for disappointment

I slowly realized a key difference between the first conference and this one: I had arrived at the first conference with few expectations. But that was no longer the case. This year, simply registering for the conference had filled me with a sense of excitement; I wanted to once again leave feeling inspired. But that wasn’t all. I also wanted another profound encounter with Jesus. I wanted to leave this conference feeling as close to Him as when I left the first one. And I was worried I would soon be disappointed.

Finally aware of my wants and worries, I turned to God. And the playful manner in which He responded quickly shed light on the problem: So you think I can only do great things once? You think I’ll be unable to outdo Myself? 

Suddenly aware of my misdirected hope, I fumbled for words: Well, no God. That’s not what I meant. I just…

God’s patience and love rang through as He graciously interrupted: Jen, have you considered why last year’s conference was so personal and so profound?

He paused, giving me space to reflect on His question before continuing.

It was because I knew exactly where you were and what you needed most in that very moment. But don’t you think I still know exactly where you are and what you need most in this moment?

The fullness of His words met my heart and I stilled, deeply comforted by the reminder that, with God, I am seen and known always.

You have searched me, Lord,

and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you, Lord, know it completely.

You hem me in behind and before,

and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too lofty for me to attain.

~Psalm 139: 1-6

I had considered my extraordinary experience at the first conference to be the problem. It shaped my wants and expectations and had become the standard by which I was prepared to judge future conferences. In return, I feared disappointment. But the reality is my initial conference experience was not to blame; my misdirected hope was–for I was looking only to the conference and to myself to fulfill my wants, but I wasn’t at all trusting God to give me what I actually need. 

Jesus, take care of everything.

Holding one of the Rosary beads between my fingers, I began repeating the type of slow, breathing prayer that has, of late, become my routine:

“Jesus, I give You this conference,” I whispered while slowly inhaling.

And then, while slowly exhaling, “Take care of everything.”

I repeated this prayer over and over as my fingers traveled from one Rosary bead to the next. Sometimes I visualized myself placing the conference in Jesus’ hands. Other times I changed the words, giving to Jesus each conversation I’d have while there and each presentation I’d choose to attend. No, my desire to again encounter God while at the conference did not change, and I was given no guarantee of a specific outcome. But by handing the conference to Him and rooting my hope and trust in Him, my anxiety lifted and I soon fell asleep in peace.

And in case you’re wondering… Yes. The conference was incredible. God once again demonstrated how very personal His love is–meeting me right where I was, and in the way I needed most.

But what about you? Have you found yourself planning something, all the while hoping it lives up to the way you’ve pictured it, lives up to the way it happened last time? If so, I pray that in the moment you’ll turn to God, place your hope and trust in Him, and let Him meet you in the very same way.

As always, I’m praying God breathes life into these words.

___________________________

Blessed by these words?

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