When you remember the why, life becomes much simpler. Suddenly, the 5,200 considerations that normally overwhelm you lose all importance. The why becomes the compass that guides us through the complications, so human, that sometimes wear us down.

I recently reflected on this again, after some minor tensions in the catechist group and with the parish priest. What does it matter who makes that call? What does it matter whether they value your work or not? What does it matter if you’re not the parish’s “top scorer”? What happens if they don’t count on you and relegate you to the Second Regional B bench? What does it matter?

What’s truly important is the why.

Why do I teach catechism?

To introduce a child—even just one, would have been worth it—to his best friend: Jesus. To speak to a soul of God’s mercy. So that, when that dark moment arrives, which will likely come, they will know that their Heavenly Mother is by their side. Because perhaps that child, for the rest of their life, will never hear anyone speak to them about God again. Never again. No one else. Speak to them about Heaven.

When you put the “why” at the center, everything falls into place. The secondary becomes ridiculous, insignificant.

Why did I get married? To enter Heaven together, hand in hand.

Why do I have children? Although it sounds harsh, to bring souls to Heaven. The more, the better.

Why complicate your life with catechism, volunteer work, or commitments that sometimes weigh you down?

To be publicists of true happiness.

Today, as we celebrate the feast day of Saint Philip Neri, with humor and joy, let us remember the purpose and prefer, above all else, what this saint also taught children:

“I prefer Paradise.”