God’s grace is sufficient

By Kristine Schroeder

Lessons Learned

“All human nature vigorously resists grace

 because grace changes us 

 and the change is painful.”          

  • Flannery O’Connor

“A Long Walk Home” is one of my most memorable movies. Set in Montgomery, Alabama, in December 1965, it relates the story of two women’s lives which were irrevocably changed because of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. Miriam Thompson (Sissy Spacek) is a Southern suburban housewife with a full calendar of card parties, teas and other societal expectations. Odessa Carter (Whoopi Goldberg) is her maid and also nanny to seven-year-old Mary Catherine, Miriam’s only child. Told in retrospect through the eyes of an adult Mary Catherine, it details Miriam’s awakening to the racial injustices of the society she has previously chosen to ignore. 

Due to the boycott, Odessa is forced to walk miles to and from work, often making her late and tired. At first, an upset Miriam encourages Odessa to “just ride the bus anyway.” When Odessa firmly refuses, Miriam, needing help with the impending holidays, decides to transport Odessa. Her only other passenger, Mary Catherine, knows of this jeopardizing decision but is sworn to secrecy. 

Gradually, Mary Catherine’s innocent observations and Miriam’s growing understanding of the plight of the blacks in her community impels her to make a life-altering decision. Even Odessa warns her of the consequences, but the curtain has risen on Miriam’s blindness. Grace has changed her. Miriam’s heart is open to the truth, and she cannot return to her former self.

According to the Catechism, “grace is the free, underserved, and unmerited help that God gives us to respond to His call to become children of God, partakers of the divine nature, and heirs to eternal life.” Grace is also referred to as “promptings” from God. Grace changes us. It shines a light on our illusions and opens our eyes to our faults and shortcomings, a frightening prospect for most of us. 

St. Catherine Laboure, the Daughter of Charity sister who was visited by Mary and given the vision of the Miraculous Medal, said this simple prayer daily.

“Lord, I am here. Tell me what You would have me do. If You give me some task, I am content and I thank You. If you give me nothing, I still thank You because I do not deserve to receive anything more than that. And then, I tell God everything that is in my heart. I tell him about my pains and my joys and then I listen.”

“Then I listen.” Those final three words are the key. She listened. And, she was also humble enough to believe that God’s ideas were better than hers. Often, I struggle to hear God’s promptings, more because I lack Catherine’s humility and instead listen to my own heart. St. Catherine’s prayer and her life are our model for an openness to the graces God desires to bestow on us. 

In fact, Catherine’s humility was exceptional so much so that only after her death in 1876 was it revealed that she was the person whom the Blessed Mother commissioned the task of having the Miraculous Medal made. 

God, in his endless mercy, continually offers us his grace. What makes the difference in each our lives is whether we are open to his summons. In fact, I am certain that this and many of my articles have been inspired by the promptings of the Holy Spirit. 

Two days ago, I finished what I thought was my June piece, but truthfully, I was not satisfied. Something was missing. In events too numerous for 700 words, I was suddenly made aware that St. Catherine’s story needed to be told. She hadn’t been on my radar, but when the idea presented itself, I knew it was right. This has happened to me numerous enough times that I know now to follow.

God has a purpose for each of us. However, we miss our opportunities when our hearts are closed to his ideas. Jesus tells us, “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Finding joy in this world is that simple. We humbly need to open our hearts and accept God’s many invitations to a life of joy and purpose.