Grace on the Road

Today is Holy Saturday. Christ is in the tomb. Easter has not yet arrived. An anonymous writer penned, “Something strange is happening – there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep.”

While today has not been totally silent for me, it has had a different sort of feel. I’ve been strangely lethargic. And we seem to have hit the pause button on our travels and visits to various places.

We were pleased that John’s aunt was feeling better this morning. We picked up some pizza and enjoyed the quiet of her back yard. The breeze was keeping the wind chimes dancing. And the doves were cooing. But things were otherwise fairly quiet.

Early in the afternoon John’s cousin Angi and her husband Mike arrived. We had not seen Angi in more than thirty years, and we had never met Mike. It was a sweet time catching up with them.

John and I took Mike and spent the later part of the afternoon visiting a family owned pecan grove in Willcox, AZ. Paul and Jackie Lee, the owners, were wonderfully kind and gracious hosts. If any of you would like absolutely fresh, sustainably grown pecans, I’d highly recommend Lee’s Pecan Orchard. They ship! The farm was neat and clean and so quiet. It was a peaceful, serene place to spend Holy Saturday afternoon.

After a couple of wine tastings in Willcox, we headed back to Benson and spent the evening with Aunt Diana. I must say that it is tough to see her so frail. But we know that, for her, death is not the end. I am moved by the reminder of others who will have a different future. “Holy Saturday is a day to pray for those who walk among us as the living dead. Their hope is placed in all things other than Christ and, for them, death will be ultimate, final, and hopeless.”

I am not one to favor heavy handed, coercive or manipulative evangelistic techniques. I am not in a position to know how God may be at work in the life of any individual or to judge the state of anyone’s soul. But I am grieved at the thought of death being final for anyone. And I am grieved at the thought of the pain that the loss of even one soul brings to our loving God. Today is a day to ponder such things.

I will leave you with these words by 16th century Archbishop Thomas Cranmer:

“On this holy Saturday, the final day of Lent, let our faith be made stronger; let us be more assured that sin and death are conquered; let us know a little more of the light through the sometimes impenetrable shadows. Whether the Harrowing of Hell is literal or figurative, corporeal or spiritual, it has a message for all of us today: the highest response to evil is to free people from it. Let us rejoice that our Redeemer lives.”

— Thomas Cranmer

“Eternal God, rock and refuge…we wait for revival and release. Abide with us until we come alive in the sunrise of your glory. Amen.”

— Anonymous

Alleluia! The Lord is risen!

“Easter is never deserved,” wrote Jan Karon. Today I am feeling this sentiment keenly. The blessings that have been poured out upon my life are already wonderful beyond imagining. It is so easy, though, not to notice. And then…Easter!

All the blessings of this life pale in comparison to all that Easter makes possible for all eternity. All of this life is only a foretaste, a teaser, of all of eternity. Or at least of what eternity can be. And I move through most of this life with blinders on, with my senses dulled. And then…Easter!!

From time to time I wonder about why I am satisfied with so little, and then, in the same breath, I grumble. Jesus does ask for everything, it is true. But He gives more than any “everything” I can even begin to imagine in return. Why is my desire, and my gratitude, so lukewarm? It is my usual state of being. And then…Easter!!!

”It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak,” said C.S. Lewis. “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

Easter challenges my desires. Do I really want all that Easter promises? Do I really want it all? The answer, of course, is YES!!! What Easter makes possible is that for which I was made. I just don’t always realize it.

This morning John and I returned to Holy Trinity Monastery for Easter Mass. The congregation was made up mostly of older people, retirees who live in RVs and spend a few months at a time living at the monastery and keeping it running. The service was not polished, but it was heartfelt. The elderly priest, Fr. Ray, conducted the Mass in a slow, deliberate fashion that gave plenty of time for reflection.

It was such a blessing to visit this special place not once but twice in the span of just a few days. I found myself greedy for more. I was disappointed when I had to leave this place. The likelihood is that I will not be back. I had to take myself firmly in hand and remind myself not to let the joy of the blessing be stolen away by greed for more. How often do I do this? The “more” for which I yearn is right at hand. And I can so easily miss it by not entering fully into the present moment.

Easter lunch was prepared for us by John’s cousin Angi. She spread a beautiful table under the huge mesquite tree in Aunt Diana’s back yard. The food, of course, was fabulous. But the real treat was being with these dear people we haven’t seen in so many years and may never see again this side of heaven.

We dispersed around mid-afternoon. Angi and Mike to make the long drive north to Mesa, AZ. Diana to take a nap. And John and I to begin packing the car. But then came evening.

John and I returned to have one last visit with Aunt Diana and her son Chris. This time it was a quiet, gentle conversation about matters of faith and eternity. Aunt Diana shared with us the story of her conversion. Chris, who is normally so quiet, joined right in. And then Aunt Diana gifted me with a whole box of books, mostly saints’ lives and works of the Church Fathers. This evening truly was a sacred time.

Aunt Diana is weak, and apparently getting weaker quite rapidly. It is hard to see her fading away. But it is Easter! And Easter is not for one day only. We, if we are willing, live an eternal Easter. “Do not abandon yourselves to despair,” said Pope Saint John Paul II. “We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.”

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I anticipated that today would be one of the most difficult days of our trip. We had planned to drive from Benson, AZ to Redlands, CA. Google Maps put our drivetime right at seven hours. But we had been warned that Google’s estimated drivetimes are notoriously unreliable for Southern California. About four hours of this drive, roughly from Phoenix, AZ to Palm Springs, CA, were through territory that appeared desolate. Neither Roadtrippers nor Google indicated anything along our route. Only a few widely spaced places to buy gas and water. That’s it!

Allow me to give a bit of background as to why this was such a challenge for me. Since around 1980, I have dealt with an assortment of heart rhythm issues. A surgery in 2000 corrected one of them. The others are fairly well controlled with medication and avoidance of things that trigger them such as aerobic activity, lifting heavy weights, flying, etc. For many years, especially in my 20s and early 30s, my heart issues and some biochemical imbalances contributed to a struggle with severe panic disorder which, at times, was debilitating. Some of you reading this reflection will recall those days and how every day was a struggle just to survive and raise my sons with some semblance of “normal” life. (God is so good, however. He faithfully used that time to cause me to cling to Him, to search His Word, and to learn trust. Nothing goes to waste in His economy.)

Today, praise God, I am much better…as long as I behave and don’t attempt things that are risky for me. So the fact that I am making this trip at all, especially with all the changes in elevation and the moving of luggage, etc., is a major miracle. The fact that I’m doing it with ease and enjoyment is nothing short of a triumph! (I don’t think I could do it without my sweet husband. He carries the bulk of the luggage and handles all of the driving. He’s very accommodating about pace and what I can handle in the way of physical exertion. He is absolutely one of God’s most special gifts to me!)

So there’s the background. I was, understandably I think, a bit nervous about today’s drive. And I was bringing it before our Lord in prayer for days. Then, a couple of days ago, during the office of Vigils, my day opened with this hymn by Melinda Kirigen-Voss and Bob Dufford:

“You shall cross the barren desert,
But you shall not die of thirst,
You shall wander far in safety,
Though you do not know the way.
You shall speak your words to foreign men,
And they will understand.
You shall see the face of God and live.
Be not afraid, I go before you always.
Come follow Me, and I will give you rest.”

It seemed that our sweet Lord was reinforcing, in a particularly specific way, a promise He makes to me frequently. I cannot say that my apprehension totally evaporated. But I can say that when it arose, I was able to go back to this promise and just trust. Deliberately. And surrender to whatever He would allow to happen.

Last night I opened the book I’ve been reading on pilgrimage. The title of the next chapter was “The Practice of Being Uncomfortable”. Coincidence? Hmmm… The author quoted Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who wrote, “The disciple simply burns his boats and goes ahead. He is called out…The old life is left behind, and completely surrendered. The disciple is dragged out of his relative security into a life of absolute insecurity…out of the realm of the finite…into the realm of infinite possibilities.”

John and I are in the habit of listening to recorded books as we travel. This morning, as we set out, we began a new book. I didn’t really know what the plot would be. I only knew that I had enjoyed other works by this author. Can you guess what the main character was doing? Making a perilous journey through a desert in the company of someone who kept reminding her of the faithfulness of God. Coincidence? Hmmm…

So now I am on the other side of the desert, in a hotel room in Redlands, CA. The scary leg of the journey is behind us. And I learned that God is present in the desert, too. There is a difference between accepting that an idea is true and having that truth burrow deep into your soul.

I will mention that, this morning, just before the tough leg of our journey began, we stopped at Mission San Xavier del Bac outside Tucson, AZ. I’d encourage you to look it up online. My pictures just don’t do it justice. It’s also known as the White Dove of the Desert. It’s easy to see why. In a landscape where everything else is brown and green, it is visible for miles. It is another one of those “thin places”. I could have stayed for hours. But we had to get on the road.

And then I saw God in the yellow blooming trees that peppered the desert all along the way. (Mesquite?) In the saguaro forests. In the incredibly beautiful mountains silhouetted against intensely blue sky. In the dust devil that hit our van with surprising force. In the red blooming ocotillos. In the abundance of life even in this arid landscape. In the wind that powered the wind farms in Palm Springs. And most especially in the fact that we made it to the other side of the desert in great peace.