The Hand of God

Some final thoughts and photos from our family vacation last month:

In my recent post, “God Who Created All Things,” I reflected on ways of coming to know God: on the desire in our hearts and in Creation itself. I concluded with the words of Saint Paul; he and the other Disciples and Apostles were commissioned to spread the good news of Divine Revelation:

“It pleased God, in his goodness and wisdom, to reveal himself and to make known the mystery of his will. His will was that men should have access to the Father, through Christ, the Word made flesh, in the Holy Spirit, and thus become sharers in the divine nature.”
--Catechism of the Catholic Church 51

As my family and I drove through Arizona, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico on our recent vacation, I saw many signs pointing to this truth. I saw over seventy crosses along the side of the roadways, each a testament of faith, each a sign of our hope in Eternity.


Dusty at the south rim of the Grand Canyon, on the first afternoon of our trip.

Say to God: "How awesome your deeds! Before your great strength your enemies cringe. All on earth fall in worship before you; they sing of you, sing of your name!"
--Psalms 66: 3&4


It was raining as we drove into Durango, Colorado on the third day of our trip, and the rain turned to hailstones before we reached our lodgings for the night. A light dusting of snow covered the ground the next morning, enough for the kids to throw snowballs. We rode a train pulled by an old-fashioned steam engine to Silverton. As we pulled into the old mining town, I spotted a shrine on the side of the mountain above the town. The Christ of the Mines Shrine, a twelve-ton statue of Jesus carved from Carrara marble, was erected by the townspeople in 1959 as a tribute and in the hope that it would in some way restore prosperity to the struggling economy.

In Albuquerque, images of Our Lady of Guadalupe and carved Santos were everywhere in the shops and restaurants. We ate dinner in a Mexican restaurant in Old Town, and on a shelf on the adobe wall above our table was an image of Jesus carved from a piece of driftwood. The carving leaned over the edge of the shelf such that it appeared to me as if Jesus were watching over us as we ate.

The next day, we watched a hundred hot air balloons of all different shapes launch in the crisp early-morning air. We walked among the balloons shaped like cows, suns, flowers, stage coaches and package delivery trucks, I spotted Noah’s Ark and Jesus on a cloud.

Before leaving New Mexico, we hiked over a rocky hillside in Petroglyph National Monument. Among the other symbols, I saw several crosses. Some of them were made several centuries ago by Spanish shepherds. But the others, these outlined crosses, were carved by the hands of prehistoric Native Americans.


We don’t know what these symbols meant to the ancient peoples who carved them, but personally, I believe there was a Divine inspiration.

I see His hand everywhere.

Sign of the Cross

The Commemoration of All Souls

On our recent family vacation, as I drove along admiring God’s handiwork, I noticed quite a few crosses—the ones people place on the side of the road to memorialize a loved one killed on that spot. I began keeping track of the number of crosses we passed, and after a few days of counting, it averaged out to one cross every twenty miles. This represents a fatality, a death, every twenty miles! America’s highways are truly deadly.

The cross is a symbol of our faith. It represents the death of Our Lord Jesus, who came down from Heaven and took all of the suffering and injustice of a fallen world upon Himself. He took all of our pain and bore it on His cross; He died so that we might live, and the cross is the sign of His suffering, and of our salvation.

And all these little crosses along our roads and highways are signs of human suffering. Each and every one of these crosses represents a premature and needless death. And each and every death was a cause of grief for someone… someone who took the time to make a little cross and place it along the side of the road…

I made one of these little crosses myself a little over four years ago. I used redwood so it would last, and I carefully carved Johnny’s name by hand. I primed it and painted it, and on the one year anniversary of our first-born son’s death, Liane and I drove to the spot where our little Johnny was killed, and we placed the cross there. My wife and I looked at each other, and there were no words to describe what was in our hearts… We were powerless to save our son; there was nothing we could do to bring him back… All we could do was to place a cross on the side of the road as a sign that there once lived a beautiful little boy who we loved more than anything, and he was killed, and our hearts were broken…

A few years ago, I began saying a little prayer whenever I would pass one of the little crosses alongside the road, making the sign of the cross: “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” These prayers are for the souls of the departed, for their loved ones, or for whoever needs them. No prayer is ever wasted. Just as the mason takes each individual stone and places it in just the right spot in the wall, Our Father in Heaven takes each prayer, each sign of His Son’s suffering and death, each a sign of His love, and places it perfectly.

I’ve come to recognize all these crosses as more than a sign of suffering. Every time I see a roadside cross, I am reminded that our life on this Earth is so very short; I am reminded that every day is a gift; I am reminded that we were created for eternity with Our Father.

Just yesterday, on the Solemnity of All Saints, the Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI spoke these words:
“In this our time, more so than in the past, we are so absorbed by earthly things that it is hard for us to think of God as a protagonist in history and in our own lives,"

the sun rises and the sun goes down…
the wind turns again and again,
resuming its rounds…
what has been, that will be…
life is as a passing flower…
joy flows like a river,
yet never does the sea become full…

“Little children, do not forget that your life is fleeting like the spring flower which today is wondrously beautiful, but tomorrow has vanished. Therefore, pray in such a way that your prayer, your surrender to God may become like a road sign. That way, your witness will not only have value for yourselves, but for all of eternity.”
--Our Lady of Medjuogorje, March 25, 1988