Discovering Your Root Virtue
“I think Rachel might be making me a worse person.”
Father Sal looked up from his coffee. “That would surprise me.”
Maggie laughed. “Okay, Rachel isn’t doing anything wrong. She’s wonderful. That’s the problem.”
“How is that a problem?”
“She’s patient with her kids. She gets up early to pray. Her house is organized. She exercises every day. She’s always doing something thoughtful for somebody. And somehow she never seems rushed.”
“And you’ve decided this is unacceptable?”
“No. I’ve decided I should be more like her.”
Father Sal smiled. “Ah.”
“So I started getting up earlier to pray. I tried her meal-planning system. I’m working on patience and gratitude. And I really should be more hospitable.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’m exhausted.”
Father Sal laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Maggie smiled. “Fine. A little funny.”
“Maggie, do you think God is asking you to become Rachel?”
“No.”
“Then why are you using Rachel’s vocation as the blueprint for yours?”
Maggie stopped.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t learn from her. We learn virtue from other people. We imitate the saints. But God didn’t make you one way and then call you to become another. He calls you to become the woman He made you to be.”
“So I can stop working on patience?”
“Nice try.”
Maggie laughed.
“You need patience. So does everyone else. But perhaps you’re scattering your energy among a dozen good things instead of asking a more fundamental question.”
“What question?”
“What is the particular way God is calling you to become holy?”
The Tree and the Root
“Isn’t everyone called to the same thing? Love God. Love your neighbor. Become a saint.”
“Absolutely. But does quiet St. Thérèse look like fiery St. Catherine of Siena?”
“Not particularly.”
“Does Mother Teresa look like St. Francis of Assisi?”
“No.”
“Yet they all became like Christ.”
Father Sal leaned forward.
“Think of your personal vocation as a tree. The whole tree is the particular life God is calling you to live: your relationships, gifts, responsibilities, mission, the people He gives you to love.”
“And Rachel has her tree.”
“Exactly. And you have yours.”
“So what does that have to do with virtues?”
“Every tree needs roots.”
Father Sal paused.
“St. Francis de Sales recommends choosing one particular virtue to cultivate carefully. Instead of scattering our attention everywhere, we can ask whether there is one virtue that lies especially close to the roots of the person God made us to be.”
“One virtue?”
“One root virtue. Not the only virtue you need. The root that helps nourish the others.”
“Like what?”
“Francis of Assisi fell in love with poverty. St. Thérèse built her little way around confidence. St. John Paul II became a witness to hope. Their holiness wasn’t limited to one virtue, but you can almost smell a particular fragrance when you encounter each of them.”
“So they figured out their thing?”
“Yes, they discovered something God had already planted in them—and then gave themselves to it.”
Stop Staring at the Weakness
“That’s not how I normally think about the spiritual life,” Maggie said.
“Hmm, how do you think about it?”
“Mostly I notice what I’m doing wrong.”
“That has its place. We need examination of conscience, repentance, confession. But if the only question you ask is ‘What’s wrong with me?’ you can spend your whole life staring at your weaknesses and never get very far.”
“Isn’t that how you overcome them?”
“Sometimes. But more often God uses our greatest gifts to transform our greatest weaknesses. Think of St. Paul. Before his conversion, he was zealous enough to persecute Christians. After meeting Christ, did he become less zealous?”
“No.”
“No, he became more zealous. The man who had poured himself into persecuting Christ poured himself into proclaiming Christ. Grace didn’t erase Paul; it transformed him.”
“So maybe the answer isn’t always fixing what’s wrong with me.”
“Right, maybe a better place to begin is asking what God has already given you—and what He wants you to do with it.”
How Do I Know?
“All right,” Maggie said. “What’s my root virtue?”
“Great question!”
She stared at him. “And...”
“I don't know.”
“Can’t you at least give me a hint?”
“I could. Other people who love you could too. But if this is the root of God’s call for you, don’t you think there’s someone better to ask?”
“You mean Him?”
“Yep.”
“So what do I do?”
“Look at your life. Sometimes the most important things about us are hidden in plain sight.”
He took out a piece of paper.
“Which saints have stirred your heart most deeply? Not the ones you think you’re supposed to admire. Which ones make something inside you come alive? Why?”
Maggie nodded.
“When have you felt most alive loving God or serving another person?”
He wrote another question.
“What gifts do other people consistently recognize in you?”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Humility isn’t pretending God gave you nothing.”
“Fair.”
“Now imagine a stranger watched a movie of your life. What would she be shouting at the screen for you to notice as your greatest gift?”
Maggie laughed. “Who knows?”
“Exactly.”
He wrote two final questions.
“Then stop analyzing and start talking to God.”
Maggie read them aloud.
“‘Holy Spirit, what have You been cultivating in me throughout my life?’”
“‘Father, what gift have you put in my heart?’”
She sat quietly.
“And then?”
“Listen.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“And what if I think I found an answer?”
“Test it. Does it fit the story God has been writing? Does it help you love Him and others? Do people who know you recognize it? Does it bear good fruit?”
“And if it does?”
Father Sal smiled. “Then cultivate it.”
Tend the Root
Maggie folded the paper and slipped it into her purse.
“So no answer today.”
“Well, maybe. Just not from me.”
“That sounds suspiciously like something a priest says to trick me into praying.”
“Probably.”
She stood to leave.
“Maggie?”
She turned.
“Rachel sounds wonderful.”
“She is.”
“Then thank God for Rachel. Learn from her. Love her. Just don’t ask her life to tell you who you are.”
Maggie nodded.
“Right. Ask God.”
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Remember: God didn’t make you one way and then call you to become another. He calls you to become the woman He made you to be.
Questions for Prayer
1. Which saints or stories of saints have stirred my heart most deeply? What attracts me to them?
2. When have I felt most alive while loving God or serving others?
3. What gifts do other people consistently recognize in me? (If you don’t know, you can ask.)
4. If a stranger watched the story of my life, what would she be shouting at the screen about my gifts?
5. Holy Spirit, what have You been cultivating in me throughout my life?
6. Father, what gift have you put in my heart?
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