What does grace sound like?  Yesterday it sounded like the ring of the telephone.  Since moving here we rarely use the house phone, and even more rarely have received any calls that were not recorded solicitations.  After several rings I looked at the number, which I did not recognize, and for a split second I thought I would not pick it up – and then I did.

What a surprise to hear the voice of a friend from Seattle!  It was their last day in town and they wanted to take me to lunch before flying back home.  We had a lovely time and picked up the conversation right where we had left off – discussing topics and ideas that are near and dear to our hearts such as faith and family; grace and our need to be continually open to new learning.

What a grace it was!  And, I couldn’t stop thinking that I almost didn’t answer that ring.  So, don’t hesitate to find grace in the ring of the telephone and don’t hesitate to answer – even an unrecognizable number. Better yet, let’s take the time to make a call to someone we know and help to ring grace into their day.

After waiting patiently the bus finally arrived.  The dear old lady, an amazing woman of 93 years, who served in the Army in WWII – among other things – and was a member of our faith community in Seattle, finally got the bus ride she was so longing to take.

For about three months she has been actively waiting for the bus ride to the other side.  This is her euphemism, not mine.  With great faith and strength of character, she actually looked forward to getting on the bus that would take her to the next life.

During our time in Seattle, I had to stop and visit with her, knowing it would be for the last time.  She expressed her disappointment to me that the bus wasn’t coming fast enough.  All I could say was “It will come in God’s time, not ours.”  That seemed to comfort her for a moment, but only a moment.

This past Friday evening at 5:30 the bus finally came for her and she gladly got on.

Her long-time friend, and 24 hour care-giver for the past three months, told me that at mass yesterday they sang “How Can I Keep from Singing?”  She knew that was a message that her dear friend who had gotten on the bus had arrived at her destination.  My message from the dear woman came during my prayer via one of my favorite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux, when I read that she had said: “It is not death that will come for me, but God.”  How true that is and how wonderful to know that this grand lady of 93 years was met at the bus by our God.

Her journey to her home in heaven is one that could teach us all a few things.  It makes me wonder how eager and how ready I am to get on the bus, singing, and to meet God. Perhaps by recognizing God’s touch through the moments of grace in our lives each day we are slowly getting ready.

Yesterday while walking I came upon two little boys with their mother and father in tow.  The boys were about 3 and 5 and the parents were laden with backpacks and entertainment supplies for the boys while they were out on their urban adventure.  Mother was trying to point out places of interest to the boys, but they were both fully engaged in other things.  One of the boys was watching ants scurry between the cracks of the sidewalk and the other had encountered a seeded dandelion.  The dandelion captured its admirer’s attention and filled him with rapture over its unique qualities, the seeds slowly floating away in the gentle breeze.  The younger child, distracted from his ant watching and not to be outdone, wanted one of those things, too!

Unfortunately, they were walking in one of the most well-manicured areas of the neighborhood and another dandelion was not likely to be anywhere around.  Mother and father began to hunt for dandelions and the little one began to cry.  I had walked on passed them, but continued to listen to the drama.  Several yards away from them now, I noticed a single, lonely, seeded dandelion in the crack between the lawn and the sidewalk.  I stopped and turned back to the family.  “There’s one right up here waiting for you,” I announced to the little one.  Dad thanked me and mother smiled and rolled her eyes, “Boys!” she said.

With great joy the little boy ran up to find the dandelion.  All of the sights and sounds of Washington DC meant nothing to him.  It was a single weed that was the source of his admiration.

How often do we pass by the “weeds” of life opting for the greater monuments?  It is a sobering moment to realize that everything in life is imbued with the grace of the Creator and everything – no matter how small or insignificant – is filled with wonder for someone.  Can we have the eyes of children to see all that the day holds for us?

Adjusting to life again in our Nation’s Capitol, we decided to visit the Smithsonian’s National Zoo.  It is a lovely park situated along a hillside of Rock Creek Park with winding trails, lots of exhibits and lots and LOTS of visitors.  Like every zoo it houses the usual characters.  But there was one exhibit that totally fascinated me.

The swamp exhibit caught my attention and wouldn’t let me go.  I watched for several minutes until my eyes could adjust to the minute nature of the animal life housed within it.  There were beautiful lily pads that were flowering, abundant small green frogs resting on the lily pads, and a swarm of dragonflies that swooped and dived and darted in and among the frogs and flowers.  These dragonflies were a beautiful sight, graceful in their own way, and amazing in how they could stand almost still in midair like tiny, neon blue helicopters.

I marveled at the genius of the zoo planners who made sure there was space among the larger zoo life, for an exhibit for the minute dragon fly.

When we feel small and insignificant and lost amid the swamps of everyday life; when our self-esteem feels no larger than a pea and we think we have nothing to contribute to anyone anywhere . . . . . . remember the National Zoo.  Even the tiny dragonfly warrants an exhibit and contributes to the overall wonder of life on this planet.

God’s creation is wasted on nothing – not on the dragonfly and certainly not on us.  Never doubt that God’s constant care envelopes each one of us.

“Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are not you more important than they?” (Matt 6:26)

In remembering our time on the West Coast the story would not be complete without one observation of some of the differences we experienced while traveling.  Coming from the hectic, busy, mind-your-own-business, don’t-look-me-in-the-eye, don’t-ask-me-for-help, East Coast climate, we felt a blessed healing amidst the slower, calmer, friendlier, can-I-help-you? life in the Northwest.  Can I give you an example, you ask?

At SeaTac airport, while renting a car, the agent, looking us in the eye and smiling, carried on a pleasant conversation with us.  Taking our driver’s license she commented: “Oh, so you’ve come all the way across country!  How was the trip?”  She even continued the conversation asking us what we liked about DC, where our major points of interest would be in Seattle, suggested we might want to consider upgrading to a mid-size car, commented that she hoped the weather at the beach would be wonderful for us, and the like.  We walked away from the counter a little stunned!  It was a far cry from any customer service we have received in DC the entire time we have been here.  A far cry from “You can’t think, you gotta know!” and “You need your birth certificate, social security card, proof of residence in DC, an article of mail sent to you present address, and don’t come back until you have all that.” — among other experiences.

As we went to the elevator to locate our rental car my husband commented in a prayerful tone:  “Oh, how nice to be home!  She was actually interested in helping us.”

The gracious personality of the rental car agent in Seattle was a reminder to us that no matter where we are or in what kind of situation we find ourselves, there is always room for a smile, an interested disposition, a helpful attitude, a pleasant demeanor, a respect for the other, a reverence for life.  There is grace in every moment, but sometimes it is we who have to cooperate with God to provide it.

The days that followed in Seattle were a finely tuned orchestration of time tables and locations to maximize seeing the most people in the shortest amount of time.  We ate with friends from Seattle U days and from our old faith community; went to mass at our old parish and saw many friends that we hold in prayer daily.  Afterward, we had dinner with good and faithful workers in the vineyard who served on my old liturgy committee.  Time spent with a lovely, faithful woman from the parish who is preparing for her journey to the next life, served as one highlight of my visit.  Her faithful friend and companion – who is present to her continually these days – was an inspiration to me!  Jesus’ love was clearly present and alive in the room through the love and care of one friend for another.  What could be more illustrative of Jesus’ constant love for us?

A stop at another friend’s here; a meeting at Starbucks with other friends there; a day spent with my folks; a morning that stretched into the afternoon at my husband’s old office with his former co-workers; breakfast with my academic advisor; and seeing our children in their own environment, with their own friends gave balance to the remainder of the days.  We were so grateful for the time and opportunity to see so many people and only wish it could have been extended long enough to see everyone.

Imagine your picture here, as you are the grace in my life that brings God’s love alive for me.  I wish I could have met and shared and talked with each one of you.  Know that you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Who are the people who bring God’s love alive for you?

Following our Christmas in May at Ocean Shores, we had to return to Seattle and spend a little time re-discovering the beauty of Puget Sound.  I had missed Seattle so much in the early Spring and now we were driving up US 99 to familiar sights and sounds.

How wonderful it was to see the Space Needle, that iconic Seattle landmark, but more exciting to be able to see the beloved Olympic Mountains amid layers of cloud and fog.  The mountains were so exquisite with their layerings of every color of gray and white.  I think it is the mountains that I miss most while in DC.  There are beautiful monuments here, true, but the monuments of the mountains stand out as more impressive to me than any human-made creation.  The mountains are God’s monuments – and there are few things that can match their beauty.  It was healing, and such a grace, to be able to see these mountains during our stay.  I know there are many days in the Puget Sound where one cannot see anything on the horizon at all!

There is a graced lesson of faith in the mountains of the Northwest.  Knowing their beauty and majesty, it takes great faith to remember on gray and cloudy days that the mountains are still there.  No matter the weather, the mountains remain as a testament of God’s creative beauty in creation.  And, when weather is thick and uncooperative, we must remember in faith that those great and beautiful mountains are still there – still standing, even though unseen to our eyes, giving testament to the power and artistry of our loving God.

It was a grace to be able to see them during our short stay.  They renewed my spirit and revived my faith.  What do you see in your day that reminds you that God’s grace is present even though we may not always be able to see it?

May 20-25.  Having missed Christmas together because of our adventures in DC, we had promised the kids an antipodal Christmas.  This was it!  We flew into Seattle and made our way to Ocean Shores where we had rented a house for all of us to gather for Christmas in May.  We met half of our kids at a Costco along the way to purchase food for the week-long celebration.  Someone should have gotten out their camera!  Who ever heard of a family reunion at Costco?  The fun was about to begin.

With boxes of provisions, we moved into the house that was to be our home for the next 5 days.  The rest of the children and their significant others joined us and the laughing began.  We talked and cooked and ate and played and sang and carried on for 5 days straight.  The weather was miserable as only it can be on the Washington coast.  The location made little difference.  It was the time that was the gift of grace.  We had all carved out this time to spend with each other.  And it was nothing but grace.  It was the time, really, this graced time together that allowed us to make the space to re-connect and re-discover what it is we know and love about each other.  Pure and simple grace:  Time.

No purchased gifts were exchanged for this Antipodal Christmas, but amidst the frantic pace of our everyday world – the gift of each other’s time was the most priceless gift of all.

When have you discovered the gift of time that is pure and simple grace for you?

May 19th.  Graduation Day!  It is a day that I thought would never come.  With so many starts and stops with my research and writing over the past three years, this was truly a grace-filled moment.

Knowing that if I purchased an academic cap, gown and hood I would certainly never wear them again, I opted for the more reasonable choice of wearing a “pulpit gown.”  In the Catholic tradition, however, we do not have pulpit gowns, we have the robe of the baptized – the alb.  So, I wore my new alb (which I had just finished making) with pride and joy.  It was the robe of my baptism; the robe of my discipleship; the robe of my service; and on this day the robe of my accomplishment and joy.

The graduation was outside among the redwoods and under a sparklingly sunny sky.  No cathedral could have been more beautiful, no grace of surroundings more profound.

To celebrate the occasion, my mentor of 25 years and long-time friend, Fr. Bill, took us out to lunch in Tiburon.  It is a little town situated on the San Francisco Bay with panoramic views of the Golden Gate Bridge.   We could not have had a lovelier time together.  Next to my husband, it was Fr. Bill who pushed, pulled, prodded, and cooperated with the Holy Spirit to see me to this moment of celebration.  Their presence in my life and my ministry has been nothing short of grace.

Who are the people who encourage you, challenge you, and help you celebrate the presence of God’s grace alive in your work and life?

After having settled in San Anselmo for the night, our bodies – still on East Coast Time – allowed us to rise extra early and set out for Point Reyes National Seashore in the morning sun.  It was an extraordinary morning, with hardly any fog at all, so the drive out to the sea was filled with little glimpses of grace.  We had to make a sudden stop for a mother deer and her young fawn finding their way home after a morning walk.  We passed cows on the historic dairy farms warning visitors to stay on the main roads.  And we saw an amazing number of beautiful sights with wild flowers covering the rolling hills on the way to the sea.

Once we arrived at the Point Reyes Lighthouse, we parked the car and walked the trail out to the rocky point.  The presence of the Holy Spirit was fierce and strong in the winds that whipped us, pushed and pulled us, and caused us to lean into them to continue forward.  But the sight of the gorgeous Pacific Ocean in the morning light was worth the struggle.

On the return trip, we had a delicious hamburger at Point Reyes Station and made our way back in time for a sitting for graduation pictures.  A little rest and next on the agenda was the baccalaureate service for the 2012 graduates of San Francisco Theological Seminary.

What a delight it was to re-connect with a classmate I had met while taking classes in the summer of 2009.  Following the service, we enjoyed a wonderful Italian dinner together and shared the joys and sorrows of our doctoral dissertations.  We were truly celebrating the completion of the same and rejoiced to finally be done!

We both knew and voiced the truth that without the grace of God – in the natural beauty of this earth; in the support of family and friends; in the perseverance of faith – arriving for this celebration would not have ever been possible.

Where have you known grace on your journey?