Comments on: Missing It

By: Toolah

Toolah — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 14:45:19 +0000

Betty… I love your comment about other people being “masterpieces” and “priceless” in our own lives. Thanks for that.

James… Tears got to my eyes by reading such a beautiful little story, truly wonderful and almost poetic. Thank you so much for sharing.

By: Cura Animarum

Cura Animarum — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 18:29:16 +0000

We just lost use of our vehicle yesterday and we are not of a means that makes it easy to replace. Yet our son is alive and well (he ran a stop sign) and the day is bright and warm, and I’m eating lunch in a beautiful park near the parish I minster in…something I wouldn’t have been doing if I’d had my car today. I don’t think God makes these kinds of things happen, but God sure works wonders within the mess!

By: jackie

jackie — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 15:36:44 +0000

Thanks so much. I appreciate your comments that let me see, think, in a new way….a better way.

By: Michele

Michele — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 15:36:18 +0000

I have been involved in catechist formation these last few weeks…..I feel I have ‘missed’ a lot in day-to-day activities, but discovered so much in preparing to present, in the exchanges, in the community that gathered and in the youth who hosted hospitality each night.

By: Paul

Paul — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 03:10:09 +0000

“Missing It” Responders,

I ask your forgiveness for not replying to your comments individually. I am still at the Jesuit conference at Santa Clara University. Our schedule is packed and at 8:00p.m. local time I’m only now getting the chance to catch up.

I feel blessed and lucky to have great readers like you who offer such varied and insightful comments. You help me to find God in my daily life and I thank you for this invaluable gift.

Paul

By: James

James — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 21:50:51 +0000

Gods Symphony

God is awake. It starts. Silence ensues except for your own heartbeat and the drawing in of cool morning air into your lungs. In the grass is an ant busily moving around, and still silence. God gives his next command, and a soft breeze commences. The tree begins to sway ever so slightly, still silence. God nods to the finch that was not paying attention, the bird takes flight and the squirrel below pauses to make sure the bird was not an eagle. Still silence, except for your own breath and heartbeat. God then looks to the East to give support to the rising Sun. Your eyes close because of the orange brightness. You feel the warmth and power of the Sun on your face. God is right next to you. You see and feel the awe and majesty of creation. The neighbor walks to his mailbox to pick up the morning paper and you here the cry of their new born baby. You smile because you know how precious those moments were and you are glad because you do not have to change the diaper. As he walks back you smile and wave. You can see that he has the paper and a cup of coffee. In his robe pocket is the baby’s bottle, probably a little to warm yet. The neighbor enters his home and the screen door slams behind him, soon after the baby stops crying. I do not think my neighbor noticed my ant. God plays multiple symphonies, in multiple times and spaces. Today, mine did not have a baby in it, that symphony was directed by God 18 years ago. I am into His next movement.
Silence ensues again.
Once you start to see God in all things ,it is hard not to

By: marg

marg — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 18:27:44 +0000

A lot of times, I overlook the treasure of what is right now. My mind is racing on to an upcoming event, worrying over something I won’t remember a year from now or turning the past over and over in my mind. I am missing what is now. My friend’s conversation, a sunny day, some quiet time with just me. So it is often my goal to enjoy the treasure of the moment without some self-inflicted interruption.

By: Michelle

Michelle — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 17:16:12 +0000

I love the story — and there must be something about Jesuit houses, since a few years back a Tintoretto was found hanging on the walls of the old Jesuit novitiate near here!

The world we inhabit, was made for us so rich, so full, so lavish – we can never see it all, that for me is the wonder. We can look and look and always be surprised. Blink and you’ll see something new or anew.

By: Eric

Eric — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 16:18:33 +0000

Yesterday I was asking Jesus if I would ever experience a miracle. I was thinking of the people I pray for and also myself. The response I got was “I love you. Isn’t that miracle enough?” What a reality to overlook?

By: Bro Grimms

Bro Grimms — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 15:20:01 +0000

That is such a great question and observation. I love to drive up and down PCH highway 1 in Los Angeles for my day off and some days I don’t see any of it.. I just drive to where I am going till I get there. Other days I am able to see the people, the surf, the beauty of the ocean and it is all amazing.

They should make a movie about that painting, what a great story.