Don't believe in God? Go to Yosemite.

I had the amazing opportunity to see Yosemite National Park last weekend, and even got into a campsite, which is nearly impossible during the summer months. I went with a friend from school, and we had the most incredible time. Driving there from the Bay Area, the drive alone had stunning views, from driving east through the mountains of the East Bay, to the seemingly desolate yet fertile flatness of the San Joaquin Valley, to the foothills of the wooded and rocky Sierra Nevada.

After entering the park, the views got better and better. The massive rock structures, the green valley, and enourmous waterfalls really take your breath away. After a hike, we made it to the top of Sentinel Dome, giving us a 360 degree view of the entire park, elevation 8,122 ft. I was in awe. Looking out on the huge rock of Half Dome, carved by a glacier many years ago, I couldn't even fathom how things like this are formed. The melting snowcapped peaks of the mountains in the distance led to the most amazing waterfalls I've ever seen, and even felt, as the next day we hiked to the top of Vernal Falls, getting soaked from the mist along the hike. At night, after turning out the lantern and letting the campfire settle, we looked up to the sky, only to see the most incomprehensible view of stars I've ever seen in my life.



So, looking at what I've mentioned--huge mountainous rock formations, roaring waterfalls, an astonishing amount of stars--everything was on a huge scale. At first, it made me feel so small, so insignificant. What was so special about my little life?

Searching for some sort of answer, my friend directed me to Psalm 104--Praise of God the Creator. Go look it up. My heart was moved, hearing this Psalm on top of Sentinel Dome, looking out. I'll highlight this verse:
"All of these look to you to give them food in due time. When you give to them, they gather; when you open your hand, they are filled." Psalm 104:27-28

My feeling of insignificance suddenly changed. Looking out on Half Dome and Upper Yosemite Falls, I realized that I was special. Yeah, I know that sounds really weird/strange/corny, but I'm serious. My God gave me this amazing Creation. It is His gift to His people, this amazing world we live in, this amazing life we live. He has given this to us, and so we gather to Him, and He fills us with life.

In short, I don't see how anyone could look from Sentinel Dome, Glacier Point, the top of Vernal Falls, Yosemite Valley, anywhere in the Park--and look out at the beauty contained in Yosemite and think all of it was created by chance. The intricacies of nature, both living and non-living, are so complex, it's far beyond the comprehension of us mere humans--maybe because it's the work of the Divine.

"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature."
~Anne Frank

Say a prayer for the dead

Every morning on my short commute to work, I pass by a Planned Parenthood clinic. I don't think I've actually seen one before, or at least seen one and understood what it was until now. The first morning I drove by I felt like a shock just looking at it, thinking about what happens there, lives ended and mothers leaving broken. I was quickly compelled to turn off my radio and say a Hail Mary. Now everytime I pass it, going to and from work, I do just that. I turn off my radio and pause for a moment in prayer. One morning, two people were outside with signs encouraging LIFE, and I smiled, knowing I wasn't the only one who prayed for the people who go through that clinic. It encouraged me, and so I continued my tradition of praying as I drove by.

Just the other day on the way to work, I saw a lot of activity outside the Catholic church that is just around the corner from the office; it was a funeral, hearse was in the street, the casket was just taken out of the church, many people were gathered. Again, my heart was shaken, I turned off the radio, and prayed. Prayed for the deceased, for the family and friends who mourn. Still praying and thinking, I turned the corner and once again drove past the Planned Parenthood clinic, praying again for the deceased and for the mothers who bear the pain.

And then I thought, there are two very opposite ends of the end of this life we lead. In the clinic, death occurs before they even have a chance to be in this world. At the church, death occured to someone who had a chance to live their life. I thought to myself--what is more tragic? Pulling into the parking lot of the office, thoughts of paperwork and computer software filled my mind.
But, it is something to think about. We always like our lives categorized, organized; certain things go in certain places, we classify people and objects and that is just what we do. We hear of someone who was killed by a murderer and think, "oh how awful", yet hear of a man who died of old age and think "well, he sure lived a good life, didn't he?" And that is where my mind gets confused. Is it right for ourselves to put these classifications on death? Like, a good death or a bad death?

When trying to tackle this, I thought of myself in the car that morning. My heart was shaken at the thought of both the death of the unborn and the death of an adult. So my conclusion, it doesn't matter. Death is not the end. While yes, in our minds we categorize death in different ways, we must always remember that death is merely the end of life on earth. We also have to remember the death Christ endured for us so that our human death is not the end. He died so that our death would be the beginning of a new life. Now, I think again, is that death tragic, the death of our Savior? Once again, it doesn't matter. Yes, the death He endured, death on a Cross, was horribly painful and difficult to think about. But, that suffering only shows the incredible love He had for both His Father and His Father's people--us.

So, to wrap up this very long winded post; death is death. It is the end of this life. But, thanks to the gift of our Loving Savior, it is not the end of ALL life, it is the start of the everlasting life, the gift we recieved when He conquered death.

So tomorrow, as I drive by the church and think of the funerals offered there, and the clinic and think of the children lost there, I will continue to pray. And, I will remember that death, in all forms, can be tragic; yet it is also the beginning a new life. Like a ship going over the horizon, we soon fail to see it, yet someone on the other side will see it soon.

"For if what was going to fade was glorious, how much more will what endures be glorious?"
~2 Corinthians 3:11

We lift our eyes to Heaven

So life is pretty tough sometimes. The only tough part about life is that we don't understand everything that it is. Things happen, we don't understand them, try to on our own, realize that we can't, and get down from that. That's where the amazing gift of trusting in God's will comes in. When we trust in His will, we are content with not comprehending everything about life, because we know and trust that regardless of what "curveballs" we are thrown in life, we will get through them because every action is part of the plan. Trusting in God has a lot to do with humbling yourself. We have to humbly accept that we don't know everything, and that we shouldn't waste our precious time on earth doing so. It's hard for our prideful human selves to surrender such a thing as trusting in something we've never seen. But, when you get to that point in your faith life when you can, it lets you approach any situation without fear. Even death. Especially death. But, that is another topic for another day.

"Let nothing trouble you, let nothing frighten you, everything passes, God never changes, God is enough!"
~St. Theresa of Jesus