Warming up my car, getting ready for 7 AM mass, I flicked on the radio. Hearing something about football, which was unacceptable, I flicked it off again. “I should pray,” I thought. . Now I had been awake for hours. I had checked the weather on the computer so I’d know what to wear. Checked my e-mail. Made my bed. Had egg and coffee for breakfast. Washed my dishes. Got dressed. Not a word to God.

“I’m sorry, God,” I said. “You know, I’d talk to you more if you were more interactive.” I imagined God talking back. “What would you want me to say?” he asks. I looked at the dawnlight in the eastern sky. The bare trees against the morning glow. I think of Joyce Kilmer saying “Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.” Now I’ve never thought of Kilmer as a major poet, rather more in the Longfellow category. There is no wondering about what his poems mean. Every line is crystal clear. And they rhyme. Who rhymes nowadays?

Yes, Joyce, the trees remind you and me of God. The dawn sky is beautiful. I, among others, have long appreciated the beauty of the earth. And the universe. And the universe within the smallest cell of my body. The wonder of DNA, that tiny speck that directs the growth and development of a human being, or a sweet pea, or a rattlesnake, each with its own specific directions. There is no way, in my opinion, that this could have happened by accident. I find God in his creation.

I have never had a dialogue with Jesus. Like Sister Faustina did when Jesus Read the rest of this entry »