Magnanimity and Restraint

Help each one of us, gracious Father, to live in such magnanimity and restraint that the Head of the Church may never have cause to say to any one of us, "This is my body, broken by you."

Prayer from China

From the Vespers Office for Friday, First Week of Advent
The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime

I first came upon this prayer a year ago, and was grateful to be reminded of it again this past Advent. The word magnanimity intrigues me. The Latin translation, according to my print version of the American Heritage dictionary, is great-souled. Other definitions include noble of mind and heart and generous in forgiving.

What a beautiful phrase, great-souled.

Since returning from Congo, life has flooded forth with issues, concerns, worries, conversations, hard questions, sad admissions. It's life. But it's been life in emotional high gear. And when I'm living in emotional high gear, I leave restraint and magnanimity standing alone at the bus stop.

Much of the last number of weeks has revolved around my 88-year-old father. He had decided quite suddenly, or so it seemed to my sister and me, to move from his apartment to a senior living facility--the very one he and Mom had lived in during the last two years of her life. So on the day after Thanksgiving, we, along with my brother-in-law, nephews, daughter, and a friend, moved Dad. I admit, preparing for the move I was not very great souled nor was I restrained. My energies were focused on cleaning out files and emptying drawers to lighten the load for moving day.

The move went smoothly and quickly, and by the very next day, Dad's new apartment looked cozy and settled.

And here is where God reminded me to strive towards magnanimity and restraint. And continues to remind me.

My dad, bumping along through a move that unsettled and confused him, even though he initiated it, was grateful and gracious. He has every reason to be angry. He knows that confusion and loss of memory are frequent visitors. In the few months since this move he has chosen and been forced to relinquish ever more of his responsibilities and freedoms. Most recently, he has had to give up driving his own car.

He gets tangled in the threads of new information. Confuses days and times. And he still misses his wife, my mother, who died two years ago. But he is magnanimous, restrained, and grateful. 

So many times over the last few years, as Mom's health failed, as my brother-in-law say his parents decline in health, as friends have cared for ailing parents, I've wondered, "Why, God? Why not spare these dear people? These are people who have followed you, lived lives worthy of your kingdom, been faithful in their walk of faith, and responsive to the needs of others. Why do you allow them to linger when they would prefer to cross over?"