Our Strongest (01/24/2025)

Life presents many paradoxes.

In July of 1988, our parish was assigned a newly ordained priest. He wasn’t the traditional newly ordained; he was in his mid-forties. He’d been in the military, an attorney, and part of the state governor’s staff. He was a gentle, soft-spoken man who became a dear friend. And he taught me a lesson I’ve been grateful for ever since. He taught me that we’re our strongest when we are willing to admit our weakness and our bravest when we ask for help.

I was busy at my desk one morning in late August, getting ready for another year of faith formation. Our classes were larger than ever before, and I was still searching for catechists as well as trying to organize materials for each class. When I heard a knock at my office door, I looked up from my worktable to see Fr. Paul. “Do you have a few minutes to help me?” he asked.

I said, “Sure.” Then I quickly cleared a spot at my table and invited him to sit. “How can I help?” I asked. He shared with me that he’d been assigned to teach religion to the kindergarten, first and second graders. “I know my faith, but I don’t know the first thing about working with children,” he confessed. We spent over an hour that day and met many times throughout his first year.

I shared with him that children that age are very visual and experiential. A “heady” approach wasn’t appropriate and wouldn’t be successful. We came up with his “lesson bag” in which he brought something tangible to share every week with the children that had something to do with his lesson. We came up with ideas for ways to encourage sharing but also to move on to listening. He was a great student himself, I must admit.

When I think of strong people in my life, I think of Fr. Paul and the lesson he taught me about strength. It took great courage and strength to come to me, admit his weakness and need, and ask for help. It also took a deep faith. And while I was officially listed as “the teacher” during those chats, I realized early on that he’d led me to a deeper understanding of faith and reliance on the LORD and others.

To this day, when I catch myself stubbornly ignoring the realization that I need help, I think of Fr. Paul. I think of his strength in seeking help, his courage in admitting his weakness. And usually within short order, I’m asking the LORD for a few minutes to help me. Sometimes, I know I must turn it all over to the LORD. Sometimes, I am inspired to seek the help of others nearby or others whom I know have the knowledge and expertise to help me.

It’s hard for me to admit I can’t do something all by myself. It’s a flaw I have struggled with all my life. I still am. Most days, I admit my needs and my weakness, and things end well. But I’d be dishonest if I said it always goes that well.

As we continue on our journeys of faith, hope and love, let us commit to being honest with ourselves, admitting our weaknesses and seeking help when we need it. Let us turn to the LORD in prayer and to our sisters and brothers who accompany us.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.