The Spiritual Rollercoaster

The spiritual journey is like a rollercoaster. There are very high highs and very low lows, and as you move through life, you are often riding between these two extremes through a series of twists, turns, and loop-the-loops.

I recently found myself in what I called “spiritual hibernation,” where I had no desire to grow in my relationship with Jesus, no desire to pray, and no desire to learn about my faith.  Perhaps you have found yourself in this low of “hibernation” or currently find yourself there.  I reflected on this lack of desire a lot and decided that it was a side effect of my frustration with God for “not answering” my recent and persistent personal prayer requests.  What resulted was an immature, childlike response of “Fine, if you won’t talk to me, then I won’t talk to you!”  

While I certainly was not (and never will be) willing to throw it all away, I felt as if my faith has been put on a shelf for me to admire from a distance.  My faith is very much integrated in my daily life, especially working in campus ministry, so every day, I mentor students, pray with them, and try to follow the Holy Spirit’s guidance in everything I say and do.  However, I felt like I was just walking through the motions and not actually living into it or pursuing it further.  What I was experiencing was “desolation,” or “spiritual dryness/emptiness.”

I shared my feelings with my spiritual director, and we discussed how God might be asking me the question, “Can you remain my faithful servant even amidst this feeling of desolation?” It is certainly easy to remain faithful in the moments of consolation, when God’s presence is clearly revealed to us. I think of consolation as a “honeymoon phase” in a relationship, but like any relationship, feelings come and go. What remains is the vow or deep commitment to one another, despite the feelings, and it is that commitment that fuels perseverance. 

God uses our emptiness and lack of desire to purify our hearts, for the willingness to remain faithful, even among desolation, makes it more beautiful in the end. I reminded myself of the many moments of consolation I have felt in my life and intentionally prayed for those who have never experienced this. We can use these moments of desolation to unite ourselves with those who have no real experience of God, those who don’t know God, or those who experience this emptiness daily. Particularly on a college campus, there are thousands of students who are experiencing this, so it gave me a chance to empathize with them, while also holding on to the sweetness of knowing God’s eternal presence.

This mentality reminded me of Jesus’ ministry. Even Jesus, in all of his omnipotence and omniscience, desired to make himself small so that he could empathize with his people. He humbled himself and became human so that he could experience all that humanity had to offer, both the joy and the suffering. Jesus walks with us through our periods of desolation, as even he once cried out “Father, why have you abandoned me?”

I was also reminded of the desert mothers and fathers, who, during their lifetime, retreated to the desert to be alone with God. Surely, even they experienced moments of desolation since they were completely isolated from everything. I am sure the question, “God, are you even there?” crossed their minds at least one point or another during their lifetimes, and yet, their steadfast loyalty, determination, and commitment to their faith makes their lives so fascinating and inspiring.

I thought of and prayed to Mother Teresa, who also experienced deep feelings of desolation and a lack of God’s presence during her ministry, and yet, she used this emptiness to empathize with the poorest of the poor, who she encountered daily. She offered her feelings of desolation for them and used these feelings to fuel a desire to persevere in prayer and dedication to God’s will for her life.

I am in a spiritual director training class called Christos, and during this recent time of spiritual dryness, we just so happened to be reading and learning about St. John of the Cross’ Dark Night of the Soul, and one reflection talked about how God intentionally keeps us in the dark because if we become aware of what He is doing in us, we are likely to either oppose His work through fear or try to accomplish it ourselves by our own means and according to our own timetable.

Upon reading this, I began to wonder if this is why I had been in a period of desolation for so long. I had been asking God for answers about my health and my future vocation, and yet I had not felt that God was answering me. Maybe He was intentionally keeping me in the dark so that I could further trust in His plan and timing. Both my spiritual director and other close priest friends reminded me how a period of desolation, or a dark night of the soul, is a time of purification, and can and should be often seen as a gift from God.

So if you find yourself riding through a time of spiritual dryness, use it as a reminder to trust that God is at work in you and for you and recognize it as an opportunity to refocus, to trust more, and to remain patient.