Father LeRoy brought today’s meditation into his homily, and I do not think I shall ever forget it. He spoke about Our Lord in the Garden of Gethsemane and how the sorrow that pressed upon Him was not forced on Him, but chosen. Father said that Jesus willed to feel the weight of our sins. He could have stopped it, but He did not, because love held Him there.
That thought settled deep inside me.
Father said that when Jesus saw all the sins of the world — past and future — it was like a dark river pouring over His Heart. He even saw ours. Mine. And yet He stayed. Father’s voice grew quiet when he said, “If He grieved so deeply for your sins, how lightly can you treat them?” No one moved in the pews.
The ride home from Church was still and thoughtful. Sister Mary Claire held her rosary softly in her hands, and Mini sat close beside me without fidgeting, which is unusual for her. I think even she felt something solemn in the air.
After dinner I told Sister I needed to walk a bit. She understood.
I made my way down the worn path to the cave. The February air was cold and clean, and the creek moved quietly beneath its thin edge of ice. I wanted to see that everything was in order — the walnut door, my Underwood resting where it belongs, the little grotto with Our Lady. It all seemed steady and faithful.
And then — there was Shaggycoat.
He came up from the water’s edge, slick and busy-looking as ever, but when he saw me he paused, just long enough to look straight at me. It felt like a greeting meant only for me. As if he knew.
How did he know I needed something steady? Something simple? Who would have thought a beaver could lift a girl’s spirits? But perhaps that is how God works. Father LeRoy said Jesus sanctified our sorrow — that He does not waste it. Maybe even small creatures are sent to remind us that life keeps building, keeps repairing, keeps going on.
Shaggycoat never stops tending his lodge. Even in cold water, even when branches break loose. He just keeps at it. There is something holy about that kind of quiet perseverance.
Standing there, I realized that if Jesus bore sorrow for love, then I can bear my small discomforts for love too. Maybe my little contrition can be laid beside His great sorrow like a tiny stick added to a strong lodge.
Mini barked once at Shaggycoat — politely — and then pressed herself against my boots. No tail, of course, but her whole back end wiggled. That made me smile.
I came home lighter than I left.
Evening Prayer
O Jesus, sorrowful in the Garden, teach me to stay with You. When my heart feels heavy, let me not run from it but bring it to Your Sacred Heart. Help me to be faithful in small things, like Shaggycoat with his lodge. And when I forget, remind me gently that You saw me in Gethsemane and loved me still.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
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