I’ve always thought time travel would be a great adventure, but somehow we’ve just never figured out how to do it.  This past weekend, however, I did experience a bit of a journey back in time – first to 1975 and then to 1862.

My husband and I ventured out on the road to find Ft. Monroe, VA, the newest National Park in the system.  It was an active military fort until September, 2011 and it also was where my folks were stationed and living inside the moat in 1975 when I was preparing for my wedding.  So, Ft. Monroe holds many memories for me.  It is the place where we purchased our wedding rings at the Post Exchange, and in the huge quarters on the parade ground, I sewed my wedding dress over Christmas break when I was home from college.

The place is splendidly beautiful and has a long history dating back to the first days of European settlers in North America.  But stepping out of the car there yesterday took me back 37 years to when I was coming home from college.  Many memories flooded back.  It was truly a step back in time.

During our visit to the Casemate Museum, built inside the battlements that are hundreds of years old, it was impossible not to think about life there in the 1800’s.  All of the sudden we heard booming and cracking.  It could have been cannon fire from the battle of the Monitor and the Merrimack right outside on the waters of the Chesapeake Bay – but it was only a thunder storm!

We had a lovely weekend and the memories and the travel back in history was fascinating.  It gave me a great appreciation for all the people who have given their lives to preserve our Union and our country’s freedom, and for all the people in my life who have loved me and given me the freedom to be the person I am today.

Where would you like to travel back in time – if it were possible?  And, who are the people through time who you have come to appreciate for the grace and gifts they have given you?

It is HOT today.  The kind of hot that can do damage.  So, I just went out for a short, 2 mile walk before the full sun of the day.  Still, even in the early morning, it was very hot.  I was thinking as I was walking about how my husband likes to repeat the advice he heard once from a stand-up comic:  at some time in your life, everyone should have the chance to live in a place where the winter can kill you.  It is funny, but today I was thinking about the reverse.  Should everyone have a chance to live in a place where the summer can kill you?

Thinking about such advice made me think about moderation.  It seems our environment itself is trying to teach us the lessons of moderation.  A little cold, snow and ice are OK and sometimes necessary, but a lot of it can do damage.  A little sun, heat and humidity are OK and sometimes necessary, but a lot can do damage.  A little rain and thunder are OK and very necessary, but a lot can do damage.  A little fire is a good and necessary thing but, out of control, a lot can do severe damage.  So, the watchword is moderation.

While we have little control over the natural elements, we do have control over the decisions that affect our lives.  So, perhaps we should ask ourselves:  How moderate are we?  How moderate are we in our eating habits?  Exercise habits? Working? or Playing?  How moderate are we in our desire for time alone, or our desire to be with people?

In every aspect of our lives the simple concept of moderation could save us from doing real damage to ourselves.  Our struggle for moderation can bring us nothing but grace.

It’s rare that we get a bird’s eye view of anything, but occasionally it can be a real treat.  For example, I love looking out the window of an airplane and seeing the landscape from a perspective I don’t usually see.  On Father’s Day, while taking a short boat ride on the Potomac, we had the rare opportunity to have a bird’s eye view of an osprey nest.

It was nothing short of amazing.  There was a parent bird with a fledgling sitting in their finely constructed nest atop a piling at the pier.  From the boat we could look right down into the nest and see the parent bringing fish for lunch for his young one.  We could see the intricately woven branches, twigs, and bits of straw and derbies that made up the nest.  On one edge, connected between bits of branch and twigs, was a delicate, lacy spider’s web that was blowing in the breeze.  Never before had I peered so closely into the dwelling of another creature.

This bird’s eye view provided me with many moments of reflection over the next few days.  I began to think about standing back and taking a bird’s eye view of my life and my dwelling.  I began to think about what we would see if we looked at ourselves from that perspective.  Would we see ourselves as being caring and loving toward another, or simply taking the action because we wanted something in return?  Would we see ourselves with only the things we need to live comfortably, or hording more than we need for no good reason?  Would we be pleased to see our taste in the magazines on our coffee table, or the websites we visit, or wish no one knew we liked to read that stuff?  Would we see ourselves pausing long enough to truly enjoy a moment of grace, or see ourselves rushing through the day simply to get to the end of it without more complications?

What would we look like from a bird’s eye view?  Such a thoughtful examination of our lives and our choices can be the source of grace for many moments.

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?