Letter from Sarah Portner

Photo by Chelsey Shortman

Dear sisters in Christ,

Though well aware of my introverted nature, old soul, and aversion to roller coasters, my first job was at an amusement park. Looking back, the Holy Spirit must have gently (yet firmly) dragged me there. What’s more, this seemingly ordinary experience was the first milestone in my preparation for the extraordinarily uncertain season we all find ourselves in the midst of now.

I came prepared for shifts wearing the park uniform: an oversized red polo distinguished by a plastic name tag, khaki-colored shorts, and a pair of white sneakers. The environment, the fashion, and the rushed customers did not appear at first glance to be the perfect storm for the first experiences I can really recall of loving my neighbor, a stranger. The first experiences that eventually led me to become a social worker.

One by one, those I shared seven to eleven hour shifts with began sharing their hearts with me. Not even bringing tuna fish for lunch stopped what had become a trend of vulnerability, of opportunities to listen and offer encouragement. And I didn’t want it to.

I listened attentively and shared pieces of hope I had come to know from personal experiences in life and prayer as heart-poured stories of heartbreak, pursuing love, immigration, family hardship, fond memories, and fears filled the hours in a sort of timeless way.

I realized that some of my coworkers had made it years if not a lifetime without any intimate encounter with Love Himself, with the assurance of being seen, known, and cared for no matter what. This started what has become a devoted love affair with striving to listen, to serve, and to act in witness to Love.

Sweet yet so fierce St. Teresa of Calcutta is often remembered for saying that, “if we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” After experiencing what it is to belong to those around me - my brothers and sisters in Christ - in a raw and intimate way, I have felt more myself. As I continued to draw closer to my vocation, I knew, at least in some sense, that if God gave me heart to hearts in an amusement park, surely He would give grace sufficient in every moment, in every quiet space of healing.

Now, in the midst of a pandemic, He unfailingly makes good on His promise to sustain me in grace abundant as a Catholic Social Worker, continuing to walk with women in crisis pregnancies and provide mental health therapy to individuals, couples, and families at a parish that has so graciously welcomed a team of therapists with the mission of getting to know the hearts of those in the pews.

In feats of epic courage, clients share their crosses and joys with me. Again and again, He puts me on the receiving end of strangers letting Light into their hearts, strangers reaching out their hands.

This week, I was on the phone with a client who is due to have her baby next month. Tirelessly, she is working to prepare the way for her child, knocking on every door that she can in hope that she will find some that may not be closed yet. “I was working, but with this virus going around, I’m scared to work at all,” she said. What’s more, it is likely that she will experience just about the most isolating kind of labor and delivery a woman could have, as hospitals ask more and more relatives, friends, and other support people to stay out.

In moments like this, when a Client is trusting, humble, and hopeful in vulnerability with me, there is no time to think of the “perfect answer.” Instead, the perfect answer is to be here: to share what concrete solutions there may be, but most of all to hold the heart of the person on the other end of the phone line in encouragement. I empathize with my client’s struggle to secure income and to prepare for an incredible transition. I was honest about the reality of resources available, and I offered to support her in the coming weeks over the phone.

Meanwhile, online therapy sessions have brought me not only into the hearts but the homes of clients, an honor I hold dear. My youngest client is an elementary school student with a tender wisdom that many take decades to find. He shared with me recently how being home from school with his siblings during the pandemic has given him more opportunities to learn how to love those around him more deeply.

Refined behaviors and new skills he had begun to incorporate into his every day life after our sessions have taken on new meaning, and he has become quick as ever to scoop up his baby sister when she’s fussy and make her giggle for a few minutes (especially when he senses his parents are tired), or to choose to walk away and take a break instead of starting a fight over a crushed LEGO masterpiece, which would inevitably lead to tears.

“I was good this week,” he added with a smile that hinted at a little heart burst. I smiled right back at him, excitedly affirming him, because one of the most important parts of my job is communicating to him that he is always good, always beloved by his Heavenly Father. Besides, resting in that truth fuels and motivates all of us like nothing else can to be the best brothers and sisters we can be.

I give all I can and He does the rest, especially after being reminded by my treasured college chaplain - with just the right amount of sass - that my hands are indeed not marked by the stigmata. And that at every point in the day I need to trust the Savior of the World to do the best and deepest work with those He entrusts temporarily to me.

In words attributed to St. Francis, “it is in giving that we receive.” In learning to give the stories and struggles of each day to Him - over and over again, as He patiently invites me to more radical trust - I have learned to better receive His love. Sometimes this looks like prayer journal pages filled to the brim, and other times it looks like a weary yet devoted gaze at Him in Adoration. The first couple years of my career have shown me how truly dependent I am on Him, and they have spurred me on in devotion to Mary. With every, “Holy Spirit, come” and every Rosary, I have (stubbornly, I’ll admit) become more grounded in unfleeting hope. As I share in the grueling trials of others, I pray for every reminder that His grace is the not-so-secret ingredient in any profound healing that happens. By living in the fullness of God’s love for me and for others - through the Sacraments and ongoing conversation with Him - I realize in new ways that I really have nothing to fear, or to stay up all night worrying about.

Our Faith gives me a framework of hope, perseverance, and endurance. I am determined to walk with, to affirm, and to guide to the best of my ability those who He puts on the other end of a phone line marked by crisis calls, those who He sends to my office (or computer monitor, these days). We belong to each other, and only Love satisfies. And wow does He perform miracles left and right when guards are let down and hope rules.

I pray you will let Him lead you to places and spaces you thought you’d never go. I pray you’ll let Him lead you to your edge, where only the gifts He has given you and reliance on His grace and mercy will do. I pray you’ll let yourself live your very own fiat in your vocation.

In Joy,

Sarah

Photo of Mary Kate

About the Writer: During road races and in daily life, Sarah runs on grace. A first generation Irish-American raised in New Hampshire (#livefreeordie), Sarah now resides just outside of Washington, D.C., with her almost-always-smiling husband, Greg. Sarah and Greg live out their Vocation one evening Rosary walk at a time. As a social worker and mental health therapist, Sarah is profoundly grateful to accompany individuals, couples, and families in holistic healing. She can’t resist a coffee date with a dear friend, fresh flowers, healthy baking hacks, or seeing her favorite music played live.

To download a free wallpaper inspired by Sarah’s letter, visit our new wallpaper collection.

Today's Wallpaper

Read Related Letters

Want to Know When We Publish a New Letter?

Subscribe Here

For Your Reflection:

Pray about it: Ask the Holy Spirit to lead and guide you so that you may be more willing to rely on His grace and mercy through these uncertain times.

Write about it: How do you see your spiritual life growing through this time? Have you experienced any of your own moments of grace and mercy?

Share your own story by commenting below