Have you ever been with a friend at a party (or maybe you’ve been this person!) who sees someone across the room, has a five minute conversation over the course of an evening with them, and then decides they are going to marry that stranger?
Of course, sometimes those people do end up married — but it’s not after the party; it’s after actually getting to know each other.
Sometimes it can be tempting to treat discernment like a solo endeavour. We have something we want; we have a decision to make; we have questions that need answering, and no matter how much we ask for advice, in the end we feel like it boils down to us.
That’s sort of true, but not entirely.
You can’t discern, alone, whether to marry another person — they have to discern whether to marry you. As heartbreaking as it can be, no amount of “but I’ve discerned we’re meant to be together!” can replace the other person’s decision.
This principle applies to other situations, too. You can’t discern to be a priest on your own. A bishop or order or community needs to discern you. You can’t decide to be a doctor on your own. A medical board needs to discern you. You can’t decide to take a job on your own. A company needs to discern you.
Sometimes other people’s discernment of you comes in the form of prayer and discussion; sometimes it comes in the form of evaluating skills; sometimes it comes in the form of interviews and test-taking.
Even something like starting your own business requires customers to discern if they want to buy from you.
This isn’t to say that our discernment is entirely dependent on other people — it isn’t. But it’s also not entirely dependent on us. It’s a relational process: one that can take many different forms.
This is important because sometimes we can feel like we discerned “wrong” or badly when things don’t work out. “But I was sure this was the right job!” we might sigh to a friend. “I discerned it so carefully!” And maybe you did! But your discernment alone isn’t the whole story of any big decision or life path.
Remember, discernment is interactive, not one-and-done. Even after you’ve made one of the rare permanent decisions in life (like taking vows), discernment continues on as you navigate how to live out that decision, daily, in relationship with other people.
And of course, we’re always discerning in relationship with God. He wants to be present with us in the big and small decisions of life. Sometimes He might have a lot to say to us about a certain path; sometimes He might decide to listen more, and see what we will choose. Either way, it’s relational.
So next time you find yourself surprised, or even disappointed, that a carefully-discerned decision hasn’t turned out the way you expected, it might help to ask yourself whether you were treating discernment like an entirely solo endeavour.
I’m curious: have you ever found yourself treating discernment like a solo endeavour? What did shifting to a more relational approach do? Is this a new idea, or something you’ve thought about often?
I have been thinking about invitation this week, and how when an invitation is extended, half of the discernment is complete. You may discern to accept or to decline an invitation, but only if the invitation has been extended to you. You may also discern to extend an invitation yourself, but you cannot invite yourself.
This has so many implications! One that most easily comes to mind is those decisions that are made in a marriage, which affect the whole family. One person could discern XYZ for any matter of things, but both spouses need to be on board for the decision to move forward (at least, in a healthy situation).