Thank you to Ruth Hersey, who has offered April’s Spiritual Journey prompt: Service.
Click on her name to read reflections from friends walking together in spirit.
And may the coming Easter season bring you hope and comfort.
“It’s not fair!”
My mother grew immune to my pre-teen mantra in the face of injustice.
Despite channeling my frustration in letters to editors protesting capital punishment and pleading for farm workers rights, I did not become an activist. I became a wife and a mom.
On my first date with Tom (to whom I’ve been married for 43 years), we ate Chinese food and then ended up in an all-night Denny’s where we shared four hours of conversation. I waxed on and on about how I wanted to change the world. Tom’s great gift is listening. At some point that night when I paused to take a breath, he quietly told me: I can’t change the world, but I can make a difference in the lives in front of me. I knew then I would marry this man.
In my Catholic life, Holy Thursday meant reading the gospel account of Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples. Jesus’ words “Do this in remembrance of me,” became the Church’s command to not only memorialize his death but to proclaim Christ present in the bread and wine through liturgy.
“Do this
in memory
of me.”
Luke 22: 19
Unfortunately, the most humbling and instructive of acts that preceded these words got short shrift. Before breaking bread, Jesus kneels before each of his friends and washes their feet–– a sign of utter humility, a simple act of service. Do THIS in memory of me.
The Jesuits in my life finally got my attention: Get out of the pews and go serve!
But it was Tom who helped me understand that service did not have to be a grand gesture.
What is it love asks of us? St. Thérèse de Lisieux ordered her life with this question, doing the small things right in front of her.
“Preach the gospel. Use words, if necessary” was a 1970’s rallying cry for nuns, models of faith in action. They dove into anti-Vietnam war protests, battled for civil rights and women’s liberation, advocating for the poor and marginalized.
What did I do?
I married.
I raised my kids.
I directed a program to nurture the spiritual lives of children for 25 years.
I raised millions of dollars for Jesuit education.
My years of theology study taught me how to place my gifts—however simple– at the service of those right in front of me.
Some years that meant delivering food to the homebound, building homes with Habitat for Humanity, advocating for migrants at the Arizona/Mexico border. More recently, it was guiding couples in marriage preparation, working election polls and showing up for No Kings marches.
What is it love asks of me right now?
Hold my mom’s hand as dementia advances; reassure her that Dad knows where she is.
I can’t change the world – by myself. And we can’t change the world overnight. The best I can hope for is to see the need in front of me. And do the next right thing.
Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.
(a prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi)
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
“Do the next right thing” is a wonderful motto, Patricia. “Use words, if necessary”– also powerful. We were next to joyful nuns at the last No Kings protest. I like your question “What does love ask of me?”
Patricia, as with every one of your posts, I am warmed by your words.
Patricia, this is lovely. I enjoyed getting to know more of your story of service (and your story with Tom) here. Beautiful piece. Thank you for sharing. Peace to you and your mom as you hold her hand during this chapter. I’m taking this with me today: “And do the next right thing.”
Patricia, “see the need in front of me”, what beautiful words to live by. There is so much need. So many look the other way. Jesus did not. We should not. We have His example of how we should live our lives. All we have to do is follow Him.
What a life you’ve lived! It looks to me that you’ve done many small (and bigger) things right in your sphere of influence (and beyond).
I love the prayer you closed with, especially these final three lines:
“Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
Where there is sadness, joy.”
Somehow we have to find ways to hope and spread light in this world of ours and “do the next right thing.” Do you listen to Emily P. Freeman’s podcast? Your words echo hers.
And blessings as you walk with your mom through this difficult chapter.
Thank you, Patricia, for background. Jesuit priest always talk of service but I did not live in their hands. My background was of the Franciscan order. You did the right thing for your family throughout the year and continue to provide love and care to your aging mother because you “see the need in front of you”. We are here on this life to be of good faith and “where there is despair, bring hope.” Your words help me dig my son out of despair and into a world where hope can be found.
A good reminder to do the work right in front of us and let go of the rest. It adds up!
Love the idea of doing the next right thing! I don’t know what it will be from day to day but usually the need reveals itself.