More from Megan L. Anderson

According to my records, I submitted today’s devotional back in 2019, just after leaving that job at the coffee shop where a certain patron was habitually mean-spirited and nasty while professing Jesus. Six years later, you would hope my faith would have matured to the point where others’ rudeness and hypocrisy would just glide off me like water beads from a duck feather. While I’m far less ruffled now by those kinds of things generally, there are still a couple of individuals in my life who consistently grate against the grain of my personality . . . or maybe just my pride. But is that not a ministry in a way?

If nobody points out our blind spots—or aspects of ourselves that we intentionally turn blind eyes to—we are unlikely to change for the better. Like it or not, one of God’s gifts to us is accountability through others. I’m reminded of a quote by St. Josemaria Escriva: “Don’t say, ‘That person bothers me.’ Think: ‘That person sanctifies me.’” And some people can be real saint-makers, can’t they?

I don’t know about you, but my last instinct when insulted is to say, “Thank you, Lord! What a perfect opportunity to humbly evaluate my own shortcomings and show love to this person who offends me!” No, I’m more likely to grumble silently in my heart, brush the incident aside so I don’t have to face the ugliness reflecting back at me, and then evade that individual whenever possible. It becomes a habit of avoidance that brings God no glory, the offender no forgiveness, the body of Christ no strength, and me neither healing nor growth.

Scripture describes Jesus as humbling himself by becoming obedient to the point of death on a cross (see Phil. 2:8). How can I make excuses for not obediently humbling myself and dying to the parts of myself that disgrace him?

Of course, a full and instantaneous change of heart is a rare thing. I can’t expect myself to eliminate every harbored grudge and negative emotion toward difficult people in one fell swoop. But I can start with a single choice. I can choose to love instead of carrying on the burdens of resentment and bitterness. I can invite the Holy Spirit to empower me in service to those I would rather ignore and poise myself to obey when those opportunities arise. And, with prayer and practice, I can investigate those less-than-holy qualities about myself those individuals seem to bring out. (It’s always possible I could be somebody else’s saint-maker too. Perish the thought!) Then, maybe one day, I’ll look upon those people with gratitude for helping sanctify me like Escriva said.

So, if I ever run into that former coffee shop customer again, I plan to greet her with a smile. When one of those habitual offenders says something that ruffles me, I will choose to respond with love in the moment, then do some soul-searching with the Lord about my need to be humbled and dry my feathers after. Who knows? Maybe after another six years of practice under the umbrella of God’s mercy and grace, I will be a more grateful, forgiving, and unburdened reflection of Jesus. The least I can do for him and his Church is try.

Do you have any saint-makers in your life?