He Who Does/She Who Does Not

Amanda Woodiel contemplates how she learned to surrender the activity of each day to the Lord.

I don’t really remember what I was praying about the day I received a special grace from God. Knowing me, it was a distracted kind of prayer anyway. Even so, in God’s mercy, He revealed to me something that has been a touchstone for my entire faith life—my entire life, actually. He told me that He is He Who Does and I am she who does not.

Now, I am a planner. An executor of events. I do things. So this revelation was shocking to me. Somewhere on the way of my faith journey, I had become convinced that we do things for God. We are His hands and feet. It’s up to us to bring His love to the world. That’s not entirely wrong, but I had gotten it wrong. I had really thought that I did things and God blessed them (or not, depending on how successful it was). That was the deal. I’ll do. You bless it if You want. As if ministry was some kind of slot machine where you pull the lever again and again and if you are lucky, one day you hit the spiritual jackpot.

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I did not understand that the real do-ing in the world has been, is now, and will be always a manifestation of His doing. We are co-operators, yes. We are listeners. But we are do-ers in the sense of hearing and obeying. We are not do-ers in the sense of being the one in charge. We are not even do-oers in the sense of knowing the big picture.

This was made even more manifest to me, when, in the midst of my son’s cancer diagnosis and treatment, my ability to do completely diminished. I could not do. I could just be. I could only let others do unto me. It was then that I realized that the gifts and talents we are given are not given just once at the beginning of our lives, but given again and again at every point of our lives if God wills it. We can’t take even our natural abilities for granted; all of it is grace. All of it is gift. All of it requires the continual doing of God, He Who Does.

This little revelation has brought me freedom. It has brought me to the place of a beggar, to be sure, but the kind of free poverty embraced by St. Francis. Realizing that I have nothing to call my own—even what I thought were innate skills—I must go to my Father every day and ask Him to Do and ask Him to give me what I need to do the work He has put before me that day. It also releases me from unrealistic expectations. She Who Does Not has limitations. Of course, that’s the truth about humans, and the truth did set me free.

Click to tweet:
I must go to my Father every day and ask Him to Do and ask Him to give me what I need to do the work He has put before me that day. #catholicmom

Coming into the new calendar year, I hope to meditate more on this theme. I suspect that it will end up being a classic “both-and.” I suspect that once I surrender all of my activity to the Lord and learn to be a beggar, He will then send me out again. Only this time I will be doing the work He wants me to do—and I will be doing it through Him and in Him rather than for Him.

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