While walking through the woods recently, I came to a place where one trail became two.
I stood there for a moment, studying both paths.
Then I noticed something I had missed at first.
Neither path was marked wrong.
They were simply different.
One wandered through an open meadow.
The other disappeared beneath the shelter of old trees.
It made me wonder how often we approach life’s transitions believing there is only one faithful way forward.
But creation seems to tell another story.
Sometimes there is more than one good path.
More than one faithful choice.
More than one way for grace to meet us.
The important thing is not choosing the perfect path.
It is walking whichever path we choose with honesty, courage, and an open heart.
I’ve been wondering…
Have I ever mistaken uncertainty for the absence of God, when perhaps it was simply an invitation to begin walking?
SPECIAL POST - AUGUST 15th
For the Solemnity of the Assumption
During the COVID pandemic, only a very small number of people were permitted to enter the nursing home.
Because of my role accompanying the sisters, I was one of them.
One morning, I sat beside a sister who was nearing the end of her earthly life.
There was nothing dramatic about the day.
She woke and began Morning Prayer, just as she had done for decades.
Together we watched the sun rise through her window.
She rested.
She ate a little lunch.
As evening came, she prayed once again.
The rhythm of her day felt beautifully ordinary.
Except that she knew it would likely be one of her last.
At one point I asked if she was afraid.
She smiled gently and said,
“Dying is not scary. It is just the completion of this journey to start my next.”
A few hours later, in the quiet darkness before dawn, I was with her as she took her final breath.
It remains one of the most peaceful moments I have ever witnessed.
Over the years, I have accompanied others through the final days of their lives. I have held hands, whispered prayers, and sat in long silences.
But I had never seen someone so completely at peace.
As I reflected on that day, I realized something.
Her peace had not appeared because she was dying.
Her peace had been formed because of the way she had lived.
For decades she had risen each morning to pray.
For decades she had entrusted ordinary days to God.
For decades she had practiced saying “yes” in ways both seen and unseen.
The final journey did not create her trust.
It revealed it.
As Christians celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption today, I find myself thinking less about explanations and more about trust.
The Church honors Mary’s Assumption not because of a single moment at the end of her life, but because her final surrender was the flowering of a lifetime of faithfulness.
Sitting beside that sister, I caught a glimpse of that same quiet confidence.
Neither woman seemed to cling to what was ending.
Both entrusted themselves to the God they had spent a lifetime following.
I’ve been wondering ever since…
What quiet practices am I living today that might one day become the source of my deepest peace?