Reading the Signs of the Time

The morning began gray and cool, with a sky that looked unsure of itself. Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I rode with Robert in his pickup to Church, the windows misty with the promise of rain. The air inside St. Mary’s felt hushed and still as Father LeRoy began the Gospel from Saint Luke, where Jesus told the crowds they could read the signs of the weather but not the signs of the times.

Just as Father LeRoy started his homily, a clap of thunder shook the church walls, and all at once the light dimmed until only the candles seemed awake. The rain poured down in sheets against the windows, so loud that Father LeRoy had to raise his voice a little. He smiled kindly and said, “Sometimes the Lord sends a storm to help us see what He means.”

He spoke about how we’re quick to notice clouds or sunshine, yet sometimes slow to notice the stirrings in our hearts — those quiet signs that tell us to forgive, to make peace, or to return to prayer. The thunder seemed to join his words like a drumbeat from Heaven, and I thought maybe Jesus uses storms to remind us how near He always is.

When Mass ended, the rain still fell, but softer now, and the windows glowed with light behind the clouds. Mini, who had sat so still between my legs through the whole storm, gave her little shake and looked up at me as if she understood every word.

Evening Prayer:

Dear Jesus, help me notice Your signs before the storm begins.

Let my heart be calm, even when thunder rolls.

Amen. 

Love, Kathy