How Single Catholics can Turn Selfish into Selfless

We've made it to the first Sunday in Lent. How is it going so far? For those of you who missed my first post, I’ve decided to use the 40 days of Lent to reflect on the questions from the St. Raphael prayer card. The 12 questions are a small reminder to improve myself every day so that I can build good habits to prepare myself for marriage.

Last week we reflected on the question, Do I speak kindly? and for the first part of this week, we'll tackle the question, Do I act selfishly?

As a single person, I only have to think about myself. Most people wouldn't call that being selfish, but just the reality of living in the single state. I have to put gas in the car, I need to buy groceries, I need to pay bills. There is no one else that I am in charge of except—me.

When I look at my sister and her husband who have six kids, I see that they have constant reminders to act selflessly. For example, a sick child wakes up in the middle of the night and needs care; dinner needs to be made, even after a long day; and I don't even want to think about the years of hard work to pay off college expenses! Regardless if they are teenagers are infants, children need so much attention from their parents.

As single people, we don't have these little reminders to act selflessly built into our day, so we need to be more aware or make opportunities to serve others. Lent is a great time to practice this, but it is also important to embrace the crosses that God sends us. Unannounced sacrifices are often much harder than the sacrifices we choose for ourselves.

Let me explain.

C.S. Lewis is his book, The Four Loves talks about the affection that we can have towards others in relationships. Affection is often the beginning of a friendship or true love. Lewis explains: "Affection ... is the humblest of love. ... Affection ... (teaches) us first to notice, then to endure, then to smile at, then to enjoy, and finally to appreciate, the people who 'happen to be there.' ... Affection opens our eyes to goodness we could not have seen, or should not have appreciated without it."

Think about all those acquaintances who aren't necessarily close friends, but are people you've grown to appreciate. Maybe it is a coworker, the bus driver, or someone on your soccer team. They are quirky or weird, but you've learned to enjoy them for who they are. Affectionate love is a beautiful and charitable interaction that opens our hearts in a much broader way.

But even healthy affection can turn selfish and destructive. When you are reflecting on the question, Do I act selfishly? also ask yourself if you are jealous of others' successes, demanding for attention, or possessive in your relationships?

C.S. Lewis describes affection gone bad:

"A brother and sister ... grow to a certain age sharing everything. They have read the same comics, climbed the same trees, been pirates or spacemen together, taken up and abandoned stamp-collecting at the same moment. Then a dreadful thing happens. One of them flashes ahead—discovers poetry or science or serious music or perhaps undergoes religious conversion. His life is flooded with new interest."

When I read this, I immediately thought about how sad and jealous I feel when one "flashes ahead" and becomes engaged, married, or has a baby. I'll never forget that year when many of my friends announced that they were engaged. I thought I was going to be sick when I went out with friends to a restaurant and there was a proposal right next to our table. I was annoyed. Really, God? Really? 

Instead of being able to commiserate about being single and waiting for "The One," now my friends were talking about bridesmaid dresses, wedding cakes and honeymoons. I tried to be supportive, but it was clear that our lives were going in separate directions.

C.S. Lewis explains this loss and pain that is felt by the one left behind:

"I doubt whether even the infidelity of a wife or husband raises a more miserable sense of desertion or a fiercer jealousy than this can sometimes do. ... For affection is the most instinctive, in that sense the most animal, of the loves; its jealousy is proportionately fierce. It snarls and bares its teeth like a dog whose food has been snatched away. And why would it not? Something or someone has snatched away from the child I am picturing his life-long food, his second self. His world is in ruins."

Some may think that Lewis is overdramatic, but doesn't it feel that way sometimes? Isn't it maddening that he is getting married before me? Or a line of thinking that I am embarrassed to admit: I would make a much better mother than her. Why does she get to have a child? 

Why do we do that to ourselves? Why do we let jealousy and bitterness poison our hearts? I know it is hard when we feel like everyone around us is dating or married, but that hatred in our hearts is only closing the door to happiness in the future.

For the beginning of this week, let's focus on the blessings right in front of us. Let's counteract selfishness with acts of love. Here are some small ways to show your love.

1. Write a handwritten note to a friend or family member you haven't heard from in a while.

2. Bake a dessert or cook dinner for a young mom or an elderly neighbor.

3. Do that annoying task that no one else will do—take out the garbage, wash the dishes in the break room, handle the call from the angry customer—but do it quietly without seeking praise.

4. Call your mom or dad and first ask how their day is going before you talk about yours.

5. Try to battle judgmental thoughts or critiques about your friends. Instead find something you admire about them.

What other ways can we battle selfishness? What would you add to this list? And don't forget to let me know how your Lent is going. Leave me a note in the comments below.