Paula D’Arcy is a writer, retreat leader, and seminar speaker. A former psychotherapist, her ministry grew from personal tragedy. In 1975, she survived an accident that took the lives of her husband and twenty-two-month-old daughter. D’Arcy taps into her own story of bereavement as well as the experiences of others in this revision of a book published in 1990 as When Your Friend Is Grieving. It is about loss and hope; she calls it a compassionate road map for the bereaved. One of the first things grief does is take away your ideas and expectations about the way things are supposed to be in your life. Suddenly all your plans are out the window or put on hold. D’Arcy says that the grieving person has to surrender these images and ideas and let pain teach us what it will. There is no one-size-fits-all” in grief, so each of us has to follow our own special path. That path may include tears, anger, silence, inertia, or an eagerness to talk and do many things. D’Arcy makes it clear that there is no magic timetable to grieving, and the worst thing we can do is try to rush a bereaved person through the process of grief. The grace note is that grief contains the healing we need, and it can become a profound spiritual helper if we keep our hearts open. D’Arcy answers all kind of practical questions about bereavement with material on depression, shock, the body’s response to grief, tips on visiting, honest conversation, things not to say, the gift of touch, the holidays, and ways you can help. She concludes: ‘Grief has been my great teacher and the hardest work I have ever done. It cut me in two, excising my innocence and my illusions. When the scar began to mend, new awarenesses began to replace the illusions. I learned that everyday choices are powerful.’ D’Arcy also cherishes the love that still ties her to her deceased husband and child. It is a love that will last through all time.”
In her eight previous books, Paula D’Arcy has used memoir, parables, fantasy, and meditations to convey the inimitable grace of God and the paths of personal transformation. In this wonderful volume, she gives us four stories about stepping across thresholds in the name of love. For D’Arcy, problems are not something to shrink our hopes or dash our dreams. They are a summons to take a hard look at ourselves and to probe beneath the surface. The idea that we can attain certainty and control in our lives is an illusion. She challenges us to ‘live with mystery, which demands trust and great fidelity to deeper truths, not to external realities.’ For D’Arcy, following all the rules can put a crimp on creativity. We need to move beyond the rules: ‘Beyond the bounds of earthly love is where a greater love begins in earnest.’ In a story about her struggle to discern God’s plan, the author writes about leaving behind her old life in order to step into a new one. She has much to say about how we often sabotage the divine inner source of guidance. In a story about the time she spent with Morrie Schwarts, whose wisdom is chronicled in the bestseller Tuesdays with Morrie, D’Arcy explores the meanings that can accrue in the face of death. In the story of Julia, who fashions a new life after being in prison, the author examines the power of personal growth. The fourth story is about how she and a boy she counsels help each other during times of grief. In a very important passage, D’Arcy proclaims: ‘Don’t push the river says my friend Richard Rohr. Don’t get ahead of your soul. The goal isn’t to get somewhere. The goal isn’t about forcing something to happen. The goal is to be in harmony with the gifts that are already given. The goal is to fall into your life.’ Easier said than done. But in Sacred Threshold, Paula D’Arcy gives us four chances to see afresh the path of surrender to the grace of God.
“A beautiful, well-written book.”
I would admire these women and like their stories if they lived in Timbuktu. But as it happens, they both live in my home state of Louisiana (and I have not met either one!). Lyn Holley Doucet . . . is a spiritual director and a composer. Robin Hebert, former national president of the Theresians of the United States, has been a pastoral counselor, spiritual director, retreat leader and speaker. The book is an informal collection of personal stories, each one signed by L.H.D. or R.H. These pieces feel like journal entries or personal letters from a friend. Yet much instruction is embedded in them, introducing the reader to major figures in spirituality, including Thomas à Kempis and Thérèse of Lisieux, explaining various approaches to spiritual formation and transformation. The writers describe journal-keeping, spiritual direction, the prayer of examen, lectio divina and many other useful practices. But there is another level in this book more important than instruction. Every page offers some kind of joyful expectation, a sense of God’s real presence. ‘I sat on a swing in a big pasture in Grand Coteau, Louisiana,’ writes Doucet, ‘on a clear and sunny day during a retreat . . .’ She is pondering the Transfiguration of Christ. Musing on this, she is carried back in memory to a village where she and her husband lived long ago, raising their young son. She remembers a vivid experience of light: ‘not the light of the sun or anything familiar. It was my inner light, or God’s light, projected, a gauzy radiance that wrapped around everything, transforming individual things into a sacred whole.’ After retrieving in memory this vision of light and wholeness, Doucet returns to her retreat office, where she hears stories of loss and brokenness from women at the retreat. But her sense of God’s light and peacefulness transforms everything. Robin Hebert has a similar gift for seeing God’s presence. ‘The climax of my weekend came with an image I received as I completed my reading about Thérèse . . . Thérèse saw herself as a little child at the foot of a long staircase, looking up to her Father standing at the top of the steps. As she placed her foot on that first step, in his almighty love, God swooped down to draw her up to him.’ Hebert identifies with the child Thérèse at the foot of the staircase. And she learns how to let go. ‘I cannot relinquish anything on my own. All I can do is desire to surrender, and God does the rest.’ Not every selection is quite so intense; but every one provides glimpses of transforming grace. In a time when some are dubious about the future of Catholic life, I find these books reassuring on many levels. They draw on our ancient Catholic heritage. They show us how contemporary life and study may shape our faith. I am encouraged that such good new writers are coming onto the current scene, to tell us what God has in store.