The incomparable Claire Swinarski, AKA The Catholic Feminist (and by the way a gifted novelist), shared a Substack recently on discernment.
I was in a hurry, as I perpetually am when reading my subscriptions these days, and I only skimmed it. I figured my life is humming along with lots of busy-ness and not much in the way of big decisions to contemplate. I didn’t really need to dive deep on that particular topic.
Of course, within 36 hours I was staring down a wholly unexpected and rather sizable professional discernment. So I had to go back and dig out Claire’s post and read it more closely.
Then I called a friend, one who’s lived through the “season” I’m in now—four kids, tween to new adult, while juggling ministry and professional creative pursuits. She told me to take time for silence, not to rush the decision, and to pray about what my current responsibilities are as wife and mother, and to see where amid all the competing factors I felt at peace.
That was when the light bulb went off: peace. Why do I always forget that part? After years of reminders, I keep losing track of the fact that God’s presence and therefore God’s will is revealed in a quiet, peaceful spirit.
Okay, let’s be honest: I know exactly why I always forget. Bear with me for a tangent, will you?
A few weeks ago, my sisters and I rented a cabin for a weekend. We spent one evening sitting on a bluff overlooking a lake and doing free online Meyers-Briggs assessments.
I haven’t done a Meyers-Briggs since it was required for marriage prep. I only remember one of my letters: the “I.” The Enneagram makes more sense to me (I’m a 1, if it matters).
I have a healthy suspicion of all those “Which Harry Potter character are you?” kinds of Facebook quizzes… I mean, you can tell which multiple choice answer goes with which character, so you can pretty much pick your bottom line.
Some of the Meyers-Briggs questions felt that way too. The I/E ones, in particular.
But I was surprised by how unsettlingly accurate the bottom line turned out to be.
My profile is “The Advocate,” and if the website is to be believed, it’s a rare one, with a really high bar of people to live up to: Martin Luther King, Jr.; Mahatma Ghandi; Mother Teresa. We are people concerned with doing The Right Thing and with Making A Difference. We are inclined to take on big things, possibly more than we should, and beat ourselves up if we can’t live up to our own standards.
This sheds a lot of light on why it’s so hard for me to remember that a quiet, peaceful spirit is where I find God’s will.
For instance: This opportunity? I really didn’t want it. It would be a huge disruption. It would require a complete restructuring of pretty much everything.
But I was struggling against a sense of obligation. I’m well qualified. And it would definitely Make A Difference. And I wondered if the particular circumstances surrounding it constituted a divine call. I mean, how many people talk about how they do this thing they absolutely didn’t want to do because God asked them to do it, and it turned out to be the biggest blessing of all? Because after all, “my ways are not your ways,” as Isaiah 55 says.
This is the curse and blessing of my particular personality type. How I think of things: if I want it, it must not be God’s will. “What an unfortunate interpretation of that Scripture,” a friend of mine told me much later, when I shared how that passage gave me fits while battling anxiety, scrupulousness, and spiritual attack before my wedding. I repeat his words to myself all.the.time.
Discernment is hard, and I thought Claire Swinarski summed it up brilliantly. If one choice involves sin, don’t pick that one. If not, pray and discern, but if you don’t get the neon billboard you’re looking for, you may just have to make the best decision you can and trust that God will do something good with it.