Enough for the Next Step

My dear brothers,

As I prayed with today’s readings, I found myself returning to one of the central lessons I received during my recent retreat with the Trappist monks at New Clairvaux in Vina, Northern California.

The first reading contains a simple prayer that struck me deeply: “Give me neither poverty nor riches; provide me only with the food I need” (Proverbs 30:8).

To be honest, that is not usually how I pray. I often ask for a little more clarity, a little more certainty, and perhaps a few more answers. Yet the wisdom writer asks for something different. He asks for enough.

During my retreat, I spent a great deal of time reflecting on the difference between what I want and what I truly need. The monks taught me this lesson not through words but through their way of life. Their simplicity seemed to say that peace comes not from having more but from discovering that God is enough.

That same theme appears in the Responsorial Psalm: “Your word, O Lord, is a lamp for my feet” (Psalm 119:105).

Notice that the psalm does not say God’s word is a spotlight that illuminates our entire future. It is a lamp. A lamp gives enough light for the next step. Not the next ten years. Not even the next ten days. Just the next step.

As someone living with cancer, I have come to appreciate that image more deeply. There are many things I do not know and many questions I cannot answer. Yet God rarely asks me to solve my entire future. More often, He simply asks me to trust Him today.

That is something mindfulness helped me understand. The present moment is where God meets us. Tomorrow’s grace is not given today. Today’s grace is given today. And today’s grace is enough.

A lamp gives enough light for the next step. Not the next ten years. Not even the next ten days. Just the next step.

Then we come to the Gospel. Jesus sends the disciples out on mission and tells them to carry almost nothing. No extra provisions. No extra money. No backup plan.

If I am honest, that instruction makes me a little nervous. I like having a Plan A, a Plan B, and occasionally a Plan C, D, and E. Yet Jesus is teaching the disciples something essential: the mission depends ultimately on God, not on what they carry.

That lesson resonates deeply with Ignatian spirituality. We prepare well, we plan carefully, and we use our gifts generously. Yet after we have done everything we can, we entrust the outcome to God. Travel light. Trust deeply. Depend on grace.

During my retreat, a simple prayer kept surfacing in my heart: “Tell me more, Jesus.” Tell me more about Your love. Tell me more about Your presence. Tell me more about where You are leading me.

The more I prayed those words, the more I realized that I do not need all the answers. I only need enough light for the next step. Perhaps that is the invitation of today’s readings.

The wisdom writer teaches us to ask for enough. The psalmist teaches us to trust the lamp. Jesus teaches us to travel lightly. Mindfulness teaches us to stay present. Ignatian spirituality teaches us to discern. Monastic spirituality teaches us to live simply.

Together they remind us that God may not show us the whole road, but He always provides enough light for the next faithful step.

And for today, brothers, that is enough.