Every Day

A reflection written while on retreat this weekend:

The Shrine of Saint Joseph
Yarnel, Arizona

There was a time in my life when I believed, “All is suffering.” I did not think, “The worst is past and things will be better now.” Rather I thought, “What really bad thing will happen next?” Then I found peace, and hope, and love. Now I understand that every day is a gift.

This morning, I walked down to the shrine, and I sat in front of the statue of St. Joseph and the Child Jesus. The sunlight shined on the statue. St. Joseph appeared so strong. Little Jesus looked safe and so understanding. I prayed the Rosary, and little birds sang all around me. So beautiful, so peaceful. Then the wind blew and the trees shook. The sunlight reflected like gold on the oak leaves. A little bird, no bigger than my thumb, perched on a branch just beside me, and I marveled that the same God who by His Word created this massive, rocky mountain and the wind that blew through the trees and roared like the ocean, this same God created this delicate little creature next to me. I sang a little song to the Blessed Virgin Mary. I looked up, and just for a moment, the little child Jesus seemed to smile at me.

Now I am sitting on a great big rock on this mountain with the sun warming my back. In the distance, I hear a dog barking. The only other sound is the ebb and flow of the wind as it blows through the leaves of the stunted trees and bushes around me, at times gently rustling, then roaring. I look out at the massive boulders on this mountain, and I see such beauty—in my heart I feel such peace. And I know that God is God.

You don’t have to have terminal cancer to know that every day is win-win. Every day is a gift. When we rise each morning, it should be with the understanding that today might be our last, that this just might be the day that we go to eternity and we meet our God. Or it is another day to live, another day to try to do something good, another day to give of ourselves. Either way, we win.

Even though we have pain and suffering, even though it may seem like our world is falling to pieces, still I see the beauty on this mountain. Still I have peace.

This is my gift, I think—this understanding. Let me tell you about my peace. Let me tell you about the Light that shines in the darkness. Let me tell you about my hope: His name is Jesus the Nazorean.