Rain Rain Go Away

This is a picture of the view the morning after the rainstorm. 

      I'm on night shift again this week.  Two nights ago, we checked the weather forecast and saw warm weather with a 10% chance of rain.  In good spirits, we dressed accordingly and set out for the road.  About 2 hours into our shift, it began to drizzle.  Nothing serious--even refreshing.  A few miles later, it began to come down a little harder.  Before long, we found ourselves walking in a cold, driving rain, vastly under dressed and absolutely miserable.  It was the first time in this walk that I second-guessed why I was doing this.  Every inch of my body was wet and freezing, while the wind blew and made it even worse.  There was nothing but blackness in front of me, discouraging me from going on.  Every step was a challenge, every movement a painful sacrifice.  The only thing keeping me going was the rosary I was saying. 
      After I finished my shift, I realized that I had made the biggest sacrifice yet of this trip.  I had pushed through miserable pain, and had done so prayerfully and with determination.  Every part of my body told me to stop, to give up, to sit down and wait for the car to come bring me away from the tempest.  But I persisted.  And in my persistence, I learned that I was capable of true sacrifice.  What's more, it wasn't my own will that was keeping me going, for if it was I would surely have quit.  The grace of God pushed me forward, strengthening my muscles and kept me going.  Through I was made aware of the great strengthening power of God's love; I was truly able to unite my suffering to that of the Cross.  After those painful miles, I no longer walk alone.  My every step is made with Him; my every step is made for them. 

Where Have all the Martyrs Gone?

I just returned from watching the movie For Greater Glory, which is about the Cristeros resistance movement in Mexico.  The basic story behind these historic events of the 1920's was the attempt of the Mexican government to violently suppress Catholicism, and the heroic resistance offered by the Mexican people.  I would highly recommend the movie, despite its glorification of the use of violence against violence.  It is a beautiful movie that is sure to leave your eyes wet at the faith shown by the people of Mexico. 

As I was contemplating the movie, I had an interesting thought.  What if something like that happened in America? How would the Catholics in America respond to such a great evil?  This line of thought brought me to ponder just what kind of evils we do face in our country.  I kept coming back to the evil of abortion.  Why do we stand idle while our children are murdered?  We lack zeal.  The Cristeros had only to look around and see the many atrocities of their government spelled out in blood: thousands of Catholics hung from the telephone poles or rotted in gutters.  We have to look a little harder, but the murders are still there.  Approximately 3700 children are aborted each day.  That means that in one week, more than 25,000 children are aborted.  That means that in just 4 months, we lose more children in America than we did in the entirety of World War II.  Why do we cringe at the horror of the number dead in a distant war, when far more are murdered in almost every city in America?  I am disgusted at our indifference.  Thousands of people stood up and died in Mexico rather than live in a country that did not grant basic rights to individuals.  Where is that zeal?

We see evil, and we sit back and do nothing.  We watch it, complaining about how bad it is for those who come into contact with it, and yet we do nothing.  Looking at history, we can find a general pattern when it comes to change.  The people of a nation are faced with what they consider to be an injustice.  Enough people pressure the government into action.  The government responds either by a) a change in legislature or b) violent suppression.  Change happens, there just has to be enough pressure first. 

So how do we create pressure?  People need to get involved.  We need ACTION.  Americans are good at complaining and bad at fixing, because we don't know what sacrifice is!  We don't know where to start.  I heard a good rule for this kind of thing: come up with a number for how much you think you can give, double it, and then get started.  If you think you can afford the time to pray one rosary a week for the end of abortion, then pray two.  If you think you can give one hour at a Planned Parenthood praying for an end to abortion, then give two.  I'm beginning to get frustrated with the amount of people who think that what we are doing on Crossroads is remarkable.  If we think that action is remarkable, then no one will actually get involved.  We need to begin to expect action.  A bunch of college kids with no real commitments shouldn't surprise us when they give up a summer in order to be a witness to the Truth.  It shouldn't be considered surprising or unusual when an 85 year old woman wants to spend an hour at Planned Parenthood praying for the end of abortion.  We should begin to expect these things!  Furthermore, we should begin to consider it unusual when the most that someone does is complain about abortion on their Facebook.  We should be surprised when someone declines the invitation to get involved.  We should cringe at the thought of indifference, because if we are indifferent then we sacrifice democracy.  If we are uninvolved, then we sacrifice freedom.

Reflection on a Sleepless Night

The following was is a reflection I wrote on friday morning after no sleep and many miles:

     Have you ever seen the sun set on the coast, right as the tide begins to break? Waves crash against a weary shore, eating away at thousands of years of sand and rock.  The relentless assault on the integrity of the beach is overwhelming.  Enormous boulders begin to quake and move from their decades-old resting places, and entire sections of sand begin to disappear.  The great roar of the ocean heaving its immensity against the land is deafening.  But just as one begins to lose hope for the earth; just as one thinks that the sand and rocks and plants will finally succumb to the pressures of the sea, the light begins to dim.  The sun creeps behind the trees, fortifying the earth, giving its all, as it falls behind the horizon.  The sky fumes in protest, shooting fire across the clouds in anguish at its loss.  But as the light fades, the waves lessen their assault.  Strengthened by the force of the sun, the earth roars back, a cacophony of night creatures called up from reserve.  The waves begin to shrink in fear.  The sacrifice of the sun has brought to the earth an internal warmth, allowing it to quiet the sea.  The tide rolls out, revealing weather beaten shores, now free from drowning but still bathed in moonlight.  The moon, enlightened by the spirit of the sun, now gives the world a soft glow of peace.  Peace.  Peace settles in.  The waves now gently roll--a soft and even sound.  The smell of salt is no longer caustic.  Rather, the wet and heavy sand now breathes with the slight scent of relief. 
     Look at the example of the sun.  The earth rocks in its orbit, straining to escape the warmth of its rays.  But the sun forgives, and each year it melts the frozen hatred of a wintery land.  The sun burns with a fiery intensity, but never complains of the monotony of the constant need to renew the life of the earth.  And do not forget the sacrifice of the sunset, when the sun descends from its rightful place in the sky, in order that the earth might bear life. 
     Take heed of the sun's example.  As the terrors of the demons press down on you, wearing away at your core and threatening your very integrity, allow the sun to set behind you and sustain you in its fullness.  Love the moon and the stars of heaven, basking in the mere reflection of the sun's rays.  Forgive even in monotony; silence your complaints in love; accept your sacrifice in the depths of your heart.  And no matter how dark the night becomes, always remember the hope of the sun's rising. 

O Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!

Lightening and bugs!

Here is a video explaining what I'm doing each day!

Workin' for the Weekend

Two weeks have come and gone!  I have seen two mountain ranges, endless wildlife, beautiful sunsets, and lots of breathtaking views.  Starting tonight, I am moving to night shift, so everything changes.  I'll start walking after sunset, and go all the way until morning Mass.  I am excited to see all the stars! 



I have really begun to love these people on the walk with me.  Right as the summer began, a friend from college shared with me one of the wisest reflections I have ever heard.  If you commit yourself to silence of mind and mouth, you suddenly become aware of the immense beauty of the world around you.  Throughout the hills and valleys, my own experience has confirmed this.  I have, with great difficulty, been able to limit my speech and quiet my mind, and in doing so the song those around me has become more brilliant than ever before.  My fellow walkers are beautiful and fantastic people, and through my (relative) silence I have begun to see God like I never have before.  He is vivid and tangible in these people, and I thank God immensely for this blessing. 

Walking gets exhausting!  We are either praying, eating, sleeping, or walking.  There is no down time.  By about Thursday, there are two thoughts that sustain us.  First, the prayers and encouragement from all the wonderful people around us.  Second, the thought of the coming weekend.  Warm beds, home cooked meals, and free time offer enormous encouragement on the road.  If it were not for the deep and full generosity of our host families, our walk would undoubtedly fail. 

p.s. Today one of the boys at my host family launched his home made, 10 foot tall trebuchet.  It was successful. A video will come soon with footage of this incredible feat.