Hello? Are You Listening?

ONE

There were barricades across the road in front of me; the sign on one of them said: “Bridge Out”.

I was on my way to the retreat house last Tuesday when my route was blocked.  I had been heading west, but my options at the barricade were to go north or south on the cross-street.  I knew the retreat house was north of the road I was on, so I chose to go north.  At the first opportunity, I again turned west --- following two cars onto a very muddy road.  For about two miles I followed their muddy spray.  Finally arriving at the retreat house, my now brown car must have been at least twenty pounds heavier.  The next day I needed a book from my car, but when I went to the parking lot to retrieve it I noticed, strangely, that my car seemed to be the only muddy hulk in the lot!  On my way home Friday, the car wash was one of my first stops, and even after that I had to hand wipe all the small crevices the washer had missed; the mud was everywhere.

TWO

Tuesday evening at the retreat house, I noticed I had a message on my cell phone; clicking the message retrieval button I immediately heard a message in Spanish --- which I couldn’t turn off! 

I eventually was able to call a help line, but they were confused.  Accessing my phone remotely, they found that my service provider had changed the method for me to access messages, and loaded a Spanish version on my phone in error.  They corrected that, but told me I now would require a password to get my messages --- and I was irritated!  Driving home, the second place I stopped was the office of my service provider.  They fixed my phone to automatically enter the (now) required password, but … now three separate recordings spoke before every message I accessed, telling me time, length and number calling of the message.  And I was irritated, (again!) at this new “service” I had to accept.

THREE

On the way home from the retreat on Friday, there was a fire truck across the road in front of me, and a number of police cars.  I don’t know what happened, but I had to turn (again).

I had been on an unfamiliar road heading south, and I turned west at the detour because that was the ultimate direction I desired.  I had to go a couple of miles before I could again turn south.  And as I drove I worried:  could I get on the expressway from this road?  As I neared the expressway, I saw a sign: turn right for the expressway west, and so I did.  As I drove along the frontage road, I saw an exit ramp merging onto this road.  And then a way further on, I saw another exit ramp merging.  “Where the heck is an entrance ramp, I wondered aloud,” as I came to a red light.  It was then that I noticed the guy(?) in the heavy coat, standing next to the car two up from me.  Was that one of those “Let me wash your windshield for you” guys?  Oh, no! Then he stepped back from the car and looked back --- at me!  Oh, no!  The light turned green; the cars began to move.  The guy --- no, it was a woman --- VERY, VERY SLOWLY limped back toward her shopping cart by the side of the road, which was filled with plastic bags.  Oh, no, and I thought of the $5 sitting in my wallet, --- as I passed, not able to stop with moving cars all around me; not able to turn around on the one-way road, and then I went down the freeway entrance ramp in front of me, ashamed.  The moment had passed.

What do all three of the above events have in common?  All three started with an event beyond my control, an irritation to my plans.  Do you (or I?) remember what I wrote about irritations just a few days back?

“It is good for me to recognize that when I am irritated
there is a reason:  God has a lesson for me.  I should
trust that God puts this person or event in my life for
a reason or purpose.  I need to trust.”

How quickly I/we forget. 

Look back at my words following those three events above.  I could take, litterly, every sentence I wrote and turn it into a long meditation about what God was telling me.  I was three days on a retreat.  Why did I worry and pray so much about MY concerns, when God so readily showed me His? 

I can’t help but notice that of late God seems to be nudging me three times before I get it, as with the above three “irritations”.  I guess it is a great blessing that He does not give up on me, despite all the times it seems He has to almost yell at me: “Hello?  Are you listening?”

(Or, perhaps that He has to remind me three times is a reminder of something else which I DO remember: “Three strikes and you’re out!”)

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Today, as I write this, is the feast day of St. Augustine.  And I was reminded of His faith journey, which so seems to parallel mine (and yours?), and of how he eventually listened to God’s calling, and then prayed:

O eternal truth, true love and beloved eternity.  You are my God.  To you do I sigh day and night.  When I first came to know you, you drew me to yourself so that I might see that there were things for me to see, but that I myself was not yet ready to see them.  Meanwhile you overcame the weakness of my vision, sending forth most strongly the beams of your light, and I trembled at once with love and dread.  I learned that I was in a region unlike yours and far distant from you, and I thought I heard your voice from on high: “I am the food of grown men; grow then, and you will feed on me.  Nor will you change me into yourself like bodily food, but you will be changed into me.

I sought a way to gain the strength which I needed to enjoy you. …

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!  You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you.  In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created.  You were with me, but I was not with you.  Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all.  You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness.  You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness.  You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in a breath and now I pant for you.  I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more.  You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

                                    Confessions, by St. Augustine

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This morning, as I was out delivering Meals on Wheels food, I came to a stop sign.  There, sitting on a plastic bucket was a man holding a cardboard sign: “NEED HELP”.  I glance behind and saw no cars as I reached for my wallet.  There was only $10.  As I gave it to him I wondered: Was this in atonement for the woman I passed by?  And then I had another thought, those words you sometimes hear blared out on late night radio or television: “This is only a test.  If this had been a real emergency …..”