When I lived in west Texas I loved to take impromptu trips to explore the sand dunes one and half hours south of town. The state park situated in rural west Texas provided spectacular views and a wide open space perfect for exploration. Sand dunes are particularly suited to exploration parties containing small children. When we arrived I could let my four year old run free.
The weather in west Texas is often unpredictable. Storms sometimes quickly blow through without warning. During one of my spontaneous sand dune trips the park greeted us with a spectacular storm. We had to stay in the car and wait for this storm to pass. This waiting was particularly difficult for my then four year old. He had spent the last hour and half watching out the window with a growing anticipation for the familiar adventure space. When we arrived and we had to stay in the car he was beyond distraught. It did not matter how much I assured him the storm would pass and we would soon play, in that moment he could see nothing but the storm, and he felt trapped in that car.
Eventually the lightning stopped, the clouds cleared and he was free to roam. The air was fresh, the sand was soft, and the sky was astonishing. The storm left the landscape revitalized and refreshed. Although we had to wait a bit longer to explore, the enhanced view made the delay seem insignificant in retrospect.
During Mass today the priest spoke about Christ’s baptism and our own baptism. Through Christ’s baptism our own baptism cleanses us of sin. My photograph from this day, “Break in the Storm”, came to my mind while he was speaking. If you look closely there is a small figure on the far dune. I did not notice this figure until I was editing my photos. The small figure is walking out of the storm towards the light. I wish I could say I planned to capture that. I did not. I was too busy looking at the sky. I love this image because of that small mysterious figure.
Father closed by reminding us, after our baptism we must go forth and continuously fight against sin. This is a fight fueled by hope and help through the sacraments. Again, I thought of that small figure emerging from the storm and walking boldly into the light. I also thought about my own impatience. I thought about how hard it is to recognize the beauty of a storm in the midst of it. A friend recently sent me this prayer for patient trust. It is a wonderful reminder to move forward in trust and hope, remembering we are adopted as daughters and sons of a benevolent and loving Father through baptism.
“Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to some-
thing unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of progress
that it is made by passing through
some stages of instability-
and that it may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually-let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Do’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances
acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.”
