A Calm in the Wind
When in Estes, a must visit for me is the beautiful chapel on the rock that sits on a pedestal. St Catherine’s, at Camp Saint Malo has been a beacon against the elements, surviving a devasting fire and a destructive flood. Pope John Paul II not only visited but spent time at the camp and hiked in the woods. No surprise here that many others may have this on their visit list as well.
On Friday morning a few of us set off to attend daily mass. Earlier on the trip we experienced rain and fog, and, on this morning, it was the wind that decided to torment us. The beautiful blue skies gave comfort that we would get our hike in today, but they did not prepare me for what we would encounter at the chapel. The wind gusts picked up and as we were blown in to the chapel, I felt immense relief to be out of the elements. Inside the chapel my fears only grew. The wind felt like a powerful, angry energy. Could the aged, stained-glass windows sustain these rattling gales? Would we even be able to hear and concentrate on the service? Rarely do I pull out my phone out at church yet, I wrote a text to the friends back at the house, that stated…”If we get blown away in this church, we love you! Tell our families we love them too.”
With my anxiety growing I needed to pull out a coping mechanism to reject the fear. My focus went to the simple alter where 2 candles were lit. They didn’t even flicker. My mind said, What?!!! How can it be that as the wind wreaks havoc outside, the candles stay aflame with peace and calm. That is where my attention moved. The channel of thought in my mind flipped to the strength of God in the calm and pushed away the distracting, boisterous noise occurring outside.
This unnerving encounter reminded me of what I experienced during the pandemic. Chaos was everywhere. Fear was blowing at us in epic proportions. The voices outside were powerful and angry. In my home I could turn off the noise and light the candles. The reminders moving in my head needed to be one of hope, peace, and calm. Intentionally I prayed more, listened, and watched and read messages of hope and love more, and spent time with people who I loved more, whether in person or on the old fashion way of communicating, the telephone.
The scripture and homily delivered a timely profound message of allowing our sufferings to align with what Christ has done for us. Suffering isn’t a punishment, it’s an invitation to know God’s love at a greater degree. Christ came to provide and protect but most importantly, He came to Love. The time spent in prayer calmed my heart, as gratitude was filling my soul.
For the first time since Covid a stranger reached out to shake my hand during the offering of peace, revealing personal encounters are increasing. A parishioner gave me an update on a lady I had been praying for since the last visit, communities are healing.
When I walked outside, the others in my group were already in the car. I wondered if I remained in the chapel longer than I thought. As I rounded the corner I was immediately reminded of that powerful angry wind. People leaving church were clinging to the railing. Two elderly women were blown over and needed to be held onto just to keep them grounded. Because I decided to use the wind instead of fighting it, I flew to our vehicle, feeling great relief when I was able to shut the car door.
Fear will come again. The angry winds will arise. The voices of hate are not going away and are most probably increasing. How do we remain rooted in a God of love? Keep our eyes on the flame, the light, that reveals God’s promise. Love wins!
Light prevails and darkness must flee.
A candle that is lit needs no energy to light the candles of others. One candle can light up an entire room and not lose its original flame or energy. Let’s do this together and keep our eyes open as to how we can share our little flame with others. Let’s set the world on fire with the light of God. He wishes it was already aflame!