Story by Joe Pisani
Whenever I’m lying in bed at 2 a.m., staring at the ceiling in my insomnia, I get caught up in a nocturnal routine, thinking about a lot of annoying things that go round and round in my head and keep me from falling back to sleep.
What I should have told that fellow behind me who pressed on his car horn, all because I didn’t put my foot on the gas the moment the light turned green. And what I should have said to that woman who let her dog do his business in front of my mailbox. Or what I’m going to say to my daughters, who have been arguing for months over something so inconsequential I can’t remember what it is.
However, on a recent night, I shifted gears from insult and injury to an entirely different topic. I looked back on my life and thought about the people who affected me the most over the years … and it wasn’t who you’d expect.
Not the colleague who won a Pulitzer Prize, not the prominent multimillionaire I worked with for a decade, and certainly none of the political leaders or so-called thought leaders I’ve encountered during a career in journalism — actually there were none of the high and mighty people the world adulates.
Long ago I discovered that God sends us role models and powers of example in all sorts of shapes and sizes and temperaments when we need them the most.
When you have the greatest need, cry out to Jesus or the Blessed Mother, and someone will be there. In my life, they were ordinary people, the kind who hold the world together but are so humble we often don’t recognize them for who they are. But without them our lives wouldn’t be the same.
They were there when I thought all hope was lost, reminding me there’s good in the world and you’ll see it if you open your spiritual eyes. They reminded me of the power of faith, of hope, and of love.
There was the priest who came to the hospital to visit my father when we were convinced he wouldn’t make it. You see, he had a terminal illness called chronic alcoholism, and he had it a long time. The odds of his recovering were small, but he beat the odds because of that priest who, himself, was a recovering alcoholic and took him to AA meetings.
One day at a time, my father got better and lived the last 25 years of his life sober. He was a different man. He still sat in his Barcalounger at the end of the day, but instead of a 16-ounce Budweiser in one hand and a glass of Canadian Club in the other, he had his prayer books and a cup of coffee.
He died sober, all because of that priest and his Higher Power. That priest didn’t just save my father. He saved our entire family.
There was the Sister of Mercy I worked with early in my career when I had no faith. (It’s a lonely life when you don’t believe.) One day I said to her, “Sister, I wish I had your faith.” And her answer startled me. She didn’t preach or recommend a study group. Instead, she said, “Faith is a gift … and all you have to do is ask for it.” That sounded too simple to be true, but the ball was in my court, so I asked. She was right.
There was the woman who retired after a career in the FBI and spent her time volunteering at Birthright, helping unwed mothers. She taught me more about God’s love than any book or homily or lecture. Coming from an alcoholic home, I never felt particularly lovable, so when I heard people say, “God loves you!” it went in one ear and out the other. My friend taught me a prayer that she told me to say every day. Those 14 words changed me: “Lord, help me to recognize your personal love for me today in my life.”
The signs are everywhere that God loves us personally; we just have to open our eyes and recognize them.
None of these people will have obituaries in the New York Times, none of them will receive public acclaim and worldly honors for what they’ve done, but all of them, I’m convinced, will be at the head of the table at the heavenly banquet, when we meet again. They let the Holy Spirit work through them, and they changed the world for the better.
So when you find yourself staring at the ceiling late at night, worrying about your mortgage or your daughter’s college tuition, then shift gears and ask the Holy Spirit to show you the people who were sent to help you along this journey of life. And don’t forget to say “Thank you.”