This Gospel passage from John has a lot going on in it, and like so much of what we’re reading as we move toward Easter, there are hints of Jesus’s suffering and death. What I notice in this particular passage is Jesus’s humanity and also his immense courage. He says “I am troubled now, but what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour.” He’s in a pivotal moment, standing in anticipation of his Passion. Whether he has divine insight or just human common sense, Jesus knows that a time of great suffering will begin soon. He shares what’s stirring in his heart, that he’s troubled. Even so, he doesn’t back down, doesn’t shy away from it, doesn’t hide from it or avoid it. He stands up straight and walks right into the darkness.

Have you ever had an experience like this, one in which you foresee that a hard time is coming? How do you respond when you anticipate something difficult? Do you dig down into your grit and strength to face it? Do you run or hide from it or avoid it? Maybe it depends on the day. Or the moment. Either way, though, it’s coming.

I’m thinking of a whole range of experiences like that, from the somewhat benign to the deeper heartbreaks. Like, what about a job interview? It’s not exactly a kind of suffering, but every time I do something like that, I know it’s going to be hard, and I have to do it anyway. Or giving a talk – that’s my job interview equivalent these days. It’s always intimidating and scary, but once I get in there and begin, I know the Spirit’s with me. I just have to stop fretting and make myself get there. It’s hard, though.

I also think of hard conversations, the ones in our relationships that we know we need to have to make things better. I do not love confrontation, which is to say, I prefer to avoid it like the freaking plague. On the other hand, these kinds of conversations are necessary to build better communication and to grow closer to the people we love. But, dang, they’re hard. Whenever I go into a conversation like that, I brace myself. I often look for doors and windows, in case I need to make a quick escape – that’s how stressed I sometimes feel. And yet, we have to go into those hard talks when we have conflicts and miscommunications, and it’s worth it. But it’s hard.

We might also anticipate great losses that emerge on the horizon. Sometimes we face our own limitations or illnesses that are coming, times when we’re aware of our weakness or even mortality. We anticipate the loss of a loved one when they’re starting to show signs of memory loss. What will happen when they’re still with us but not themselves? We might anticipate the death of someone we love.

Anticipatory grief is a real thing. That’s what happens when we know a loss is coming, and we brace ourselves for it. We feel the emotions of grief even as we stay present to our loved one who’s still with us. I’m kind of dealing with that in my family, and really, to be a younger member of a religious community is to live with anticipatory grief every single day.

I’m not a therapist or an expert in dealing with anticipatory grief, but I’ve learned a few things from living living with it. For instance, I can enter in and feel all the feelings I’m having — sadness, worry, fear, even anger — but I can’t give in to despair. It’s important to allow the feelings that emerge, but I also don’t want to fret about the feelings that might come. I have to stay present and not be consumed by anxiety about the future. I know it’s uncertain and there are lots of things to worry about, but we can’t allow ourselves to fall into the abyss. And if we’re tumbling near the abyss, we need to find a friend who can remind us to stay present.

The thing is, we might be able to anticipate what will happen, but we don’t know how it will be. We don’t know the graces and gifts that will emerge. We don’t know how God will show up. What we do know is that God will show up. Showing up is what God does. So, when darkness is on the horizon and we can see that it’s coming, we might not know how we’re going to get through it, but we do know that God will be with us in it. I have a wise friend who once asked me, “How can we not trust an unknown future to a known God?” Honestly, she stumped me. I’m a sister of Providence whose spirituality centers on trusting God, and I didn’t think of that. It’s so true, though, isn’t it? We don’t know the future, but we do know God. And we don’t have to trust the future — we can’t! But we can trust God.

So, when I hear Jesus say that he’s troubled but that he’s going to fulfill his purpose anyway, I take it to heart and look to see how he’s coping. In our Second Reading from Hebrews, we’re told that “in the days when Christ Jesus was in the flesh, he offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to the one who was able to save him from death.” If prayer with tears and cries is good enough for Jesus, it’s certainly good enough for us. Such a thing is a release, a healthy response to hard times.

Also, at the end of this Gospel passage, Jesus says, “When I am lifted up from the Earth, I will draw everyone to myself.” He has a higher purpose in his suffering and he’s able to make meaning from it. Maybe he draws his courage from that. So, then, what’s our higher purpose? What’s our “why”? I think that’s how we make meaning from our suffering. Our own grief and loss come because of how deeply we love someone. When we’re caring for a loved one, we do it because of our great love, and I hope that makes our suffering meaningful, even when things are at the hardest. That’s also true of the hard relationship conversations we have — we enter into those because we love each other. Even the challenging things we do day in and day out — I hope we do all our hard things out of love.

Having a troubled heart is a human experience. It comes from looking darkness in the face and moving through it despite how hard it is. And how can we do this? We can because we know we’re not alone. We have each other, and we have Christ, who willingly entered into our own experience out of great love for us. Jesus might not have known how things would work out, but he knew God; he knew that he could trust the unknown future to a loving God. And so can we. When we know darkness is coming, we might brace ourselves, but we can also look for God’s presence. God is with us in the darkness.

P.S. Here’s a song that’s meant a lot to mean when I’m anticipating a hard time. It’s “You Can Do this Hard Thing” by Carrie Newcomer. I hope you find it helpful too.

For reflection:

• Have you ever had the experience of anticipating a hard time? How do you respond? Do you stand and face it? Do you avoid it? What determines how you respond?

• When you’re anticipating a challenge – a hard conversation, a talk, a job interview, or whatever it is – how do you deal with it? And where is God?

• And when you’re anticipating a grief or heartache, or when you’re in the middle of it, how is God with you?

• Maybe you could take a little time to share with God what resonates with you in all of this and see what God has to say to you.

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Board of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, meaningful conversations, and dancing.