Never Too Late

Father Sal’s office. Ellen, Maggie’s seventy-three-year-old mother, enters.

FATHER SAL: Hello, Ellen. I’m glad you came. Please, have a seat.

ELLEN: Thank you, Father.

She settles into the chair across from him.

FATHER SAL: What brings you here today?

ELLEN: Maggie, mostly. I’m visiting her this week. Have you noticed how different she is?

FATHER SAL: Why don’t you tell me?

ELLEN: She seems happy. Not that she was miserable before. But there’s a peace about her now. Yesterday, one of the children spilled Cheerios all over the table while another was crying about something upstairs. She was already running late. I was getting upset just watching.

Father Sal nods.

ELLEN: She got the trash can, slid it to the one who spilled the cereal, and went to see what was wrong upstairs. No big speech. No making everyone feel terrible. Later, they were all laughing about something. The children seem happier, too.

FATHER SAL: Mm-hmm.

ELLEN: I asked her what had changed. She said she’d been learning to pray. Really pray. And she said you’d helped her. So I thought perhaps I would come see you… My husband died two years ago. I still sometimes hear something funny and think, “I’ll have to tell him that.” Then I remember.

Father Sal listens.

ELLEN: And there have been other funerals. People I thought I’d grow old with. My knees aren’t what they were, either. I used to spend a whole day with the grandchildren. Now I’m worn out after a couple of hours.

She pauses.

ELLEN: Most of my life, someone needed something from me. Now I go home and turn on the television just so there’s another voice in the house.

FATHER SAL: Mmm.

ELLEN: And I know I could pray. I keep thinking I should. But when I turn everything off, I don’t know what to do with myself.

Father Sal nods and waits.

ELLEN: I taught Maggie her prayers, you know? We took the children to Mass. I haven’t forgotten that. But somewhere along the way, prayer became something I meant to get around to. Or something I did when I needed God to fix a problem.

She looks down at her hands.

ELLEN: Now I finally have time to be with Him, and I hardly know how. It’s embarrassing to say that at my age.

FATHER SAL: What would you like to be different?

ELLEN: I want to know Him. Not just know what I’m supposed to believe. When Maggie talks about Jesus, He’s someone she’s spending her life with. I want that.

Have I Waited Too Long?

FATHER SAL: And what gets in the way?

ELLEN: Honestly, Father? I think it’s too late.

FATHER SAL: Too late for what?

ELLEN: To change. To become someone who really loves God. I’m seventy-three, Father. I don’t know how much time I have left. I keep looking back and thinking of all the times I could have turned to Him and didn’t.

FATHER SAL: You wish you’d begun sooner.

ELLEN: Much sooner.

FATHER SAL: That may mean it’s late. What makes it too late?

ELLEN: All those years. You can’t get them back.

FATHER SAL: You can’t. God can.

ELLEN: What do you mean?

FATHER SAL: He can redeem all of you, even your past. Saint Teresa of Avila knew that from experience. She had even given up mental prayer for a time. God drew her back. After years, she put her trust in Him and begged for the strength she couldn’t give herself. She tells us that she began to change. The Book of Her Life, chapters 7–9

ELLEN: Teresa of Avila gave up prayer?

FATHER SAL: For a time, yes. And through that experience she learned that God could recover lost time in a moment. Soliloquy 4

ELLEN: But she still had plenty of time to become a saint.

FATHER SAL: Well, ok. How much time did the good thief have while he was dying next to Jesus?

ELLEN: Not very much.

FATHER SAL: And do you remember what Jesus told him?

ELLEN: Remind me, Father.

FATHER SAL: “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” Luke 23:39–43

Ellen sits quietly for a moment.

ELLEN: Today.

FATHER SAL: Yes. It was late. It wasn’t too late.

He Calls You by Name

ELLEN: But I still have so much to change. So much I should be doing.

FATHER SAL: (Gently.) Ellen, Ellen, you are worried about many things. One thing is necessary. Cf. Luke 10:41–42

She looks up, recognizing the words.

ELLEN: Martha.

FATHER SAL: Yep. And her sister Mary chose to be with Jesus. Would you like to choose Him now?

ELLEN: Yes, Father. I would.

FATHER SAL: Let’s try a little meditation from Saint Francis de Sales. It’s near the beginning of his Introduction to the Devout Life, after meditations on death, judgment, hell, and heaven. He brings the reader to a choice about how to live now.

ELLEN: That sounds rather serious.

FATHER SAL: It is. But listen to the invitation. First, let’s look at Jesus on the Cross, remembering that God is here with us and ask Him to help us.

They pause.

FATHER SAL: Ellen, imagine two kingdoms. On your left is Satan, surrounded by people consumed with envy, hatred, and selfish desires. On your right is Jesus crucified, calling people to come to Him. Around Jesus are people living ordinary lives with love: husbands, wives, widows.

ELLEN: Widows, father?

FATHER SAL: Yes. And some of His people are suffering. Their troubles haven’t disappeared. But they have chosen Him. Imagine yourself there with Jesus before you. He calls you by your own name: “Ellen.” Part I, Chapter 18

Ellen looks toward the crucifix on the wall.

FATHER SAL: Listen to the love in His invitation. He is calling you to come to Him.

Ellen closes her eyes. Father Sal waits.

ELLEN: I keep wanting to explain why it took me so long.

FATHER SAL: You can tell Him. But first, let yourself hear Him calling you.

They sit in silence.

FATHER SAL: What is He saying to you?

ELLEN: (Her voice cracks.) “I have been waiting for you a long time, daughter.”

Ellen begins to tear up.

FATHER SAL: And what, if anything, do you wish to say to Him?

ELLEN: I’m sorry, Lord. I’m sorry it’s been so long.

FATHER SAL: Does how long it’s been keep Him from welcoming you?

ELLEN: No. He’s just happy I’m here right now.

She opens her eyes and looks toward the crucifix again.

FATHER SAL: Is there anything else you want to say to Him?

ELLEN: Jesus, I want to be with you. I want to know you. And whatever is keeping us apart, I want you to take from me. Whatever can bring us closer together, I ask you to give me. That’s it. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Father Sal lets the silence remain.

Five Minutes with Jesus

ELLEN: I’m not sure what happens next.

FATHER SAL: Think of the good thief. Did choosing Jesus get him down from his cross?

ELLEN: No. But he got to be with Jesus.

FATHER SAL: His circumstances stayed the same. His relationship with Jesus changed. What about you?

ELLEN: I’m going home to the same life. But I want to live it with Him.

FATHER SAL: Then what would make sense for you to do now?

ELLEN: I could start praying every morning. Maggie has some books I could borrow. Perhaps I should make a retreat. Or spend an hour in the chapel every day.

FATHER SAL: Yeah. Those are some pretty big things. What’s one little thing that’s so obvious and easy you’d be silly not to do it?

ELLEN: I could go into the chapel for five minutes before I leave. I walked right past it on my way here.

FATHER SAL: And what would you do?

ELLEN: Sit down. Tell Him thank you for calling me. Tell Him about missing my husband. About being afraid. About wanting to know Him.

FATHER SAL: How does that sound?

ELLEN: Too good. Too easy.

Father Sal chuckles, then looks sternly.

FATHER SAL: And everything needs to be hard?

ELLEN: I suppose not.

FATHER SAL: So what are you going to do?

ELLEN: Go sit with Jesus.

She picks up her purse, then sets it down again.

ELLEN: There is one more thing, Father. It’s been a long time since my last confession. Would you hear it?

FATHER SAL: Of course. The chapel is empty. Would you like us to go there?

ELLEN: Yes, please. And afterward, I’ll stay awhile.

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