I found myself in a hospital waiting room with nothing to read.  There were only three books on a table and not a magazine or newspaper in sight.  My choices were Lewis Carroll's "Alice Through The Looking Glass," Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women," or Franz Kafka's "The Castle."  There I was and my choices were satirical nonsense, sentimental romance, or humanity's endless struggle with an unfeeling bureaucracy.  Humanity's struggle seemed the more challenging option.  How often are we faced in life with choices that challenge us?  How often are we alone to make a decision with limited options?  My situation paled to the emotions and anxieties of the family waiting for the quadruple bypass surgery being performed on their loved one.   As it was just beginning, their morning was tense and their day would be long.  They were powerless to do anything but pray.  The life of their loved one was in the hands of others. Their prayer was that those hands were guided by God's own.  As it turned out, the surgery went well.  The patient's prognosis is better than good and everyone breathes easier.  The dilemma of my reading choices was nothing compared to the worry of a family who waited and worried and prayed.  God bless them all and also for he who now has new hope for a longer life because of modern medicine and prayer.

I have no answers; at least none that will bring comfort or explain the atrocity perpetrated in Orlando Sunday morning last.  The dead and wounded were human beings.  They were (and still are) bearers of the Image of God.  In more ways than some are willing to name, they are no different from other humans.  I'd quote Shylock here, but I'm not sure we know enough Shakespeare to make the connection.  Suffice it to say, murder, directed by hatred, consumed a person's being and the consequences are that sadness and grief and mourning now accompany us in our living.  At least for a while.  A couple of weeks will pass and the variety of diversions which occupy our living will once again take center stage and the names of the dead and wounded will fade from every common arena.  But the sadness and the grief and the mourning will continue to mark far too many families who now have fresh graves to visit and unfulfilled futures to imagine and tears beyond number to shed.  May they Rest In Peace and Rise In Glory.

Today is D-Day.  On this date 72 years ago the armed forces of freedom landed on the beaches of Normandy and the Nazi reign of terror was one huge step closer to ending.  My uncle, Fred Smith, was a combat engineer and made his fourth landing of WW II; North Africa, Sicily, Italy, Normandy.  He survived to return home to marry my mother's sister Kate, raise a family, and die in his bed at a ripe old age.  The loss of life on D-Day and the immediate aftermath was staggering.  More than 4,400 Allied personnel died.   German numbers range as high as 9,000.  Victory wasn't assured.  It was feared even the beach-head would be difficult to hold and retreat was still an option almost 24 hours after the landing.  Seventy-two years is a lifetime.  Those harrowing hours on Normandy's beaches were endured by brave men.  Today we remember and say thanks to a generation of patriots who stood up to evil and blessed the world with victory.  Their sacrifice is immeasurable.  Our gratitude is undying.

It's now ten weeks from Easter, 2016.  We've moved along at nature's pace for just over seventy days from that Sunday.  Our liturgical color has gone from white to red.  We're finally leaving the Upper Room.  The seasons of the Church are such so as to keep us mindful of the sweep of God's presence and activity in the world and in our lives.  I'm ever mindful of the human tendency to move quickly to the next thing, whatever it is.  Oh, sure we do look back with nostalgic eyes and hearts, but we all know yesterday will never be our present.  It will never be where we live and breathe.  As to Easter, it is never in our past.  It's never seventy days ago.  We don't need to be nostalgic about Easter, as its reality is ever present.  The Resurrection is God's gift to us in Jesus for our every breath and our every day and for all eternity.  We can remember Easter, to be sure.  We will celebrate it again in the year of our Lord, 2017, to be sure.  But just as surely, Easter is the divine reality for the life of the Church on earth and in heaven.