Antidote to Chaos
The work never stopped. I thought things would ease up after the first six months, but the pace at work only increased. Managers changed direction on what seemed like a monthly basis, which required total rework of processes and tools. I began to see that whatever I was working on today, would be gone by the next quarter. I was working seven days a week from morning ‘till night. My international assignment outside Dublin, Ireland had become not a dream job but a nightmare sweat shop.
Chaos reigned in my life. For the first time in my career as a project manager in a large information technology company, I felt that work was consuming me. I found myself drowning in an endless stream of meetings, spreadsheets and process documents. I felt trapped in an inescapable prison of impossible deadlines. I no longer had the direct support of my wife and children, as they remained in the United States continuing their homelife and schoolwork. Even though I was surrounded by coworkers, I felt isolated. There was no end in sight.
It was in the midst of this overwhelming workload that my prayer life began to change. In a type of quiet desperation, I began to see God not as a distant deity who controlled the universe, but as the one person whom I could turn to at any time of the day or night with my pain. Prayer became not just an expression of my devotion to the distant, albeit knowable God, but more of an intimate encounter with my Lord. My morning Rosary changed from the simple recitation that I had known for almost 30 years to a sacred rendezvous with my Blessed Mother, which gave me the strength to face the day.
Soon, I began to steal a little more time before starting my day to contemplate Christ on the cross. I would kneel before a small, two-inch crucifix in my apartment and try to simply gaze upon our Lord for just five minutes. Have you ever tried to just stop everything and look at a crucifix for five minutes? I was astounded at how little patience I had, as I turned my head towards the clock to see if the time had passed. However, it was during these moments that I saw Christ’s suffering more intensely. What must it have been like to feel the crown of thorns on his head? What of the excruciating pain, as his shoulders got pulled from their sockets while hanging on the cross? These were unthinkable pains. Yet he endured them.
These brief moments in front of the cross helped me to understand more clearly the words of St. Teresa of Calcutta, who started her life as a nun in Ireland: “The beginning of prayer is silence. If we really want to pray we must first learn to listen, for in the silence of the heart God speaks.”
Sunday Mass had been a duty. Joyful, yes. Spiritually refreshing, of course. But now, it became something else. It was an emotional sanctuary. It felt much more like an intimate meeting with a treasured friend. Even my preparation for Mass was no longer simply putting on a suit. It was a time filled with anticipation before what was sure to be a truly special event. I arrived early to join some parishioners who said a Rosary before Mass. I would stay afterwards to gaze at the statues and study the stained glass windows. I was spending more time with our Lord.
One day after Mass, on the bulletin board in the back of the parish, I noticed a simple white sheet of paper on which was typed an invitation to Sunday night Eucharistic Adoration. At first, I thought how odd it was to have Adoration on Sunday, but I decided to try it anyway. I could not have imagined the impact this devotion would have on the rest of my stay in Ireland.
From then on, I found myself drawn back to this oasis of grace each week. The dread of Monday morning was transformed by Christ into a peace I had never known. In fact, a fundamental change occurred in my attitude toward work. I found that my worries about day to day activities ceased. I was no longer shaken by the often-raised voices of my co-workers. The frantic pace felt somehow manageable.
Years later, as I reflect back on my international assignment, I see that those turbulent times were actually a gift. In that seemingly unbearable pressure, I found that turning to God in prayer is the antidote to our chaotic life. Although work may seemingly never stop, it does. What does not stop, is God’s love.
Our Lady Queen of Peace pray for us!
