“Parting is such sweet sorrow”

Shakespeare’s words, of course. But my experience of late.

I have been going through continual and repeated partings lately, and it either wears one down or molds one in the virtues of patience and forbearance. Not sure which is winning out here, but I’m experienced in the forces of both.

I told you earlier about encounters with grace, and that has continued, remarkably. Today was another travel day (just about all of it) and it served as a reminder of how much we can learn by taking a step back and noticing everything we do, instead of just going through the motions. Like this…

On the back roads of New Hampshire, I had to rely on very quirky but detailed directions from a number of people to get me to an airport on time for a flight. Straight highways are seemingly easy, though not in upper Massachusetts (where I started the day), so I gave in to well-meaning folk who guided me on a “better” path to the airport on the byways.

Well, great. It was certainly scenic. But convoluted. And when you’re not sure where you’re going, you tend to get increasingly worried as the clock ticks on. Somewhere in the middle of this, I thought about the more profound message of surrendering your destiny in trust that Someone who knows the way is directing the path.

So, the ride became quite a lesson, especially contemplating all the partings that led to this path. Some of you have been with me through different stages of partings, though these family gatherings of the past two weeks have been profoundly personal and providential.

Thank you so much for writing or somehow expressing your sentiments in this transition time from my radio show(s) to whatever is next. Gratefully, we are connected here. And I’ll be building this blog up considerably, in the days to come.

It was interesting reading I continued today in that spiritual classic “Abandonment to Divine Providence.” Author (Rev.) Jean Pierre de Caussade focused on what he called “the sacrament of the present moment.” I’ve gained a deeper appreciation of that message lately. The book quotes St. Therese of Lisieux:

“If I did not simply live from one moment to the next, it would be impossible for me to keep my patience. I can see only the present, I forget the past and I take good care not to think about the future. We get discouraged and feel despair because we brood about the past and the future. It is such folly to pass one’s time fretting, instead of resting quietly on the heart of Jesus.”

Wow. On the visit I just made to my Dad, he reminded me of our longstanding family devotion, through several generations, to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There’s a love there that is beyond our grasp, though certainly not beyond our reach. It’s a love that’s beyond our feeble definitions of the word.

It is refined in all the partings we suffer through, no matter how temporary.

Bear with me, I’ll get down to serious news stuff in a day or two…