Seasons of Light
A Reflection on Grace, Change, and Balance
A couple of years ago, I was researching ways to convince my daughters to remain at the table for the entirety of dinner when I came across a blog post about lighting candles at mealtimes. This simple practice supposedly helped to make the meal special and encouraged children to stay seated. Friends, I scoffed. An open flame amidst the chaotic tornado of my daughters’ mealtime antics was not going to happen.
Now, a few years and many birthday and advent candles later, I owe that blogger an apology and a thank you. After this past Advent, I realized how much I missed the quiet coziness of candlelight, and I recalled that post. My girls helped me pick out some pillar candles and we all look forward to the moment when we gather round the table to enjoy a meal by candlelight. Though still wiggly, my daughters stay seated in order to gain the honor of extinguishing the candles when dinner is finished. (We have two candles and two children – I’m not sure how this would work otherwise).
This experience made me think about how often I fail to consider whether the timing is right for a challenge. I need to write in block letters on a note to myself: “Give it a couple years, months, maybe even weeks and you may feel differently. Work towards the goal, rather than merely tossing it aside as impossible.
And give yourself grace in this season.”
I’ve struggled with this grace recently. Something about the new year makes me want to turn my life upside down and start all the big projects – regardless of whether I am prepared for or capable of these changes.
In a series of miscommunications, I recently told a trainer at our gym that I was interested in body building. What I meant was strength training. For those of you - like me - who are oblivious to the nuance here: these are not the same thing. This lovely trainer launched into a discussion on competitions and muscle fine tuning and nutritionist recommendations. I nodded with fear clearly written on my face as she paused and said, “is this what you mean?” In an attempt at a polite redirection, after all body building was obviously a passion of hers, I replied “You know, I think learning how to lift the bar without throwing out my back is the stage I’m at right now. Could we start there?” She laughed and graciously worked with me on the basics; teaching me how to stand, where to position my hands and feet, how to bend and flex my back.
While I did not expect to be a body builder, I had hoped I could shoulder more than just the metal bar. “Not yet, everybody has to start somewhere” was my trainer’s response to my longing glances at the weights. I’d have loved to jump in, heaving and straining with the heavy weights like those around me, but my trainer assured me that if I practiced and honed my technique the heavier loads will be far easier - and safer.
I’ve felt the wisdom in these words in various areas of my life this past month. The flip of a calendar page does not a new woman make. Change looks gradual, consistent, steadfast. It’s not flashy or quick (like movie montage training sequences), but instead the slow compilation of the building blocks needed for a solid foundation. It’s practicing with tiny candles before you’re ready to sit through a dinner by candlelight.
I often feel this tension between the big and small practices in my spiritual life. I would love to devote an hour each morning to prayer, but until my children sleep through the night, a few minutes snatched as they cuddle me may be what is within my grasp. I tend to feel as if a practice should be all or nothing, deep devotion and long-time frames or else it “doesn’t count.”
Two wise women, both named Teresa, have helped shed light on this misconception. Teresa of Avila instructed her fellow sisters on how any mundane task can become a prayerful practice and an act of love. Her famous quote attributed to this attitude is that “God Walks Among the Pots and Pans,” encouraging her sisters in their daily chores as well as their prayer practices. Mother Teresa of Calcutta also spoke to this posture of love in her encouragement that “we do no great things, only small things with great love.”
Each of these women did, in fact, do what I would qualify as great things. But they did them with small steps, with the realness of life surrounding them, with the foundation of hard work and dedication supporting them. I love the idea that as Teresa of Avila was writing her beautiful books and engaging in deep mysticism, she was also attending to the needs of those around her by washing dishes. It doesn’t have to be all one or the other, there is beauty in the balance.
You may not light the candles at the dinner table tonight, but maybe you can someday. And for now: embrace the realness of the present, ask yourself what are the small steps that I can take today to work towards that larger goal - and give yourself the grace of taking it slowly.
Recommendations
I should begin by admitting that the slightly different format of this piece was inspired by the snapshot style reflections by
. I have adored her writing for years and love how she weaves various moments together in one essay. I highly recommend anything that she creates!My friend,
, has joined the world of substack and his “semi-weekly reflections on literature, spirituality, sports, the fleeting nature of beauty, and the inevitability of death” are just a delight! Check out this work at Nothing Gold.In the spirit of sharing small steps of creative and spiritual practices, Jesuit Media Lab’s chaplain, Father George Drance, wrote a gorgeous reflection and exercise (which will be a part of a monthly series!) on Forming a Practice of Hope. I hope it blesses you as it did me.
Lastly, my first column of Everyday Ignatian came out in late January and is titled Practicing Prudence in the Examen. This year our theme is Gifts of the Spirit and each quarter
, , a guest writer, and I will be sharing stories that highlight the virtues of prudence, patience, solidarity, and gratitude. I’m absolutely tickled pink to be writing alongside these talented ladies and thrilled to be sharing our work on these topics and Ignatian spirituality!Thanks for reading along, friends! I pray your year is off to a blessed and grace-filled start. And feel free to comment and share any ideas for less chaotic mealtimes!
Love this! Beautifully written. And I'm honored by the hat tip! ;)
Love this! There is something so simple and grounding about candlelight. Great thoughts on change🫶