Learning to Let Go With St. Monica

There are many different kinds of problem solvers in the world. I classify myself as a “fixer.” When someone comes to me, expressing a problem, my first instinct is to jump in with a solution. Occasionally, this is helpful, but more often than not, people don’t need an instant solution. More often than not, they simply want an open ear.

St. Monica lived in the 4th century, and is best known for being the mother of St. Augustine. St. Augustine lived the early part of his life steeped in a sinful lifestyle. Augustine had a son outside of marriage, and questioned and doubted church teaching. He held off on being baptized as long as possible, in order to live as he wished and still be guaranteed salvation in the final moments of his life (which was a common practice at the time). St. Augustine partied, stole fruit from the neighbor’s orchard, and is famously known for praying, “Lord, make me holy…but not yet.”

St. Augustine’s father was an angry man, and a terrible husband to Monica. He was abusive at times, a pagan who mocked her Christian religion.

For these two wayward men, Monica prayed without ceasing. The result? Her husband

converted on his deathbed, and St. Augustine is one of the greatest saints the church has ever known.

What was so remarkable about St. Monica was her ability to remain connected to these men, even in the midst of their waywardness. Surely, their actions must have broken her heart many times. How was she able to endure the grief of seeing the two people she loved most, live their lives in such a despicable way?

Simply put – Monica gave them to God.

I’ve no doubt that many of us – if not all of us – have loved ones who have fallen away from practicing their faith. Some of these loved ones may even be living their lives in a manner that is antagonistic to the faith. If we love them, we cannot help but by be grieved by this.

Grief can work in one of two ways. It can cripple us with a sense of helplessness, or it can motivate us to action. For grief to be most effective, it needs to do a little bit of both. Grief does make us helpless, but that needn’t make us incapable of action.

When we lose a loved one, for example, we recognize our own helplessness in the face of death. We recognize that death is inevitable, and that stopping it is beyond our control. However, that grief can also move us to action. When losing a loved one, we may recognize that we are helpless, yet also be moved to entrust that loved one to God’s mercy. In the face of grief, we may choose to pray novenas and offer Masses for the repose of the soul of our loved one. While we recognize that we can do nothing to prevent death from occurring, we also believe that death needn’t have the final victory. “O death, where is thy victory?” Even in grief, we can recall that Christ has the ultimate victory over sin and death, and we can entrust all things to him.

So it is when faced with the tragedy of loved ones who have turned away from the faith. On the one hand, we are faced with helplessness. Despite our strongest arguments for Catholicism, we can’t always change the minds and hearts of those who have chosen to leave the Church. However, that helplessness can motivate us to action – namely, to prayer. In the midst of our helplessness, we can rely fully on God’s strength. The best arguments in the world cannot, by themselves, convert a single soul. The work of the Holy Spirit can convert even the most hardened heart.

Monica knew and believed this. She recognized, in her grief over the wayward life of these two men, that she was helpless. However, she used that feeling of helplessness as impetus for action. She became a prayer warrior, and prayed for Augustine and his father, and their conversion. Even more effectively, she prayed out of love.

Monica’s greatest strength was not her actions, or even in her beautiful example of the Christian life. Monica’s greatest strength was in her awareness that she had to let go of her worries and give them to God. Although she longed for the conversion of these men, she knew that the only way to win them over was to let them go and entrust them into the hands of her Savior.

This is Monica’s greatest lesson for us all (especially for my fellow “fixers” out there). With God, there is always hope of healing and redemption. However, our true hope lies in prayer, and in the knowledge that Christ is the ultimate conqueror over sin and death. She reminds us to entrust our loved ones into the hands of God, to lift them up daily in prayer, and to trust that God will soften their hearts in his own good time.

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Michele Chronister

Michele Chronister is a theologian (married to a theologian), mother to two little girls, and freelance writer on the side. She is received her BA and MA in theology from the University of Notre Dame (’09 and ’11) but her favorite way to use her degrees is answering her preschooler’s questions about faith at bedtime. She is the author of Handbook for Adaptive Catechesis and the co-author of Faith Beginnings – Family Nurturing from Birth Through Preschool (both published through Ligouri publications). She has also contributed articles to Catholic Digest and Catechetical Leader, and is a member of the National Catholic Partnership on Disability’s Council on Intellectual and Development Disabilities. When he oldest was a baby, she realized that their family life had taken on a sort of monastic rhythm – eat, pray, play, sleep. Prompted by this, she started the blog My Domestic Monastery (www.mydomesticmonastery.com), where she shares inspiration for families wanting to grow in holiness.

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