I opened the garage door, spade in one hand and lawn waste bag in the other. Stepping out into the early morning sunshine and unseasonable warmth, I was greeted with the sound of youthful enthusiasm and boundless energy. Turning slightly to the north I caught sight of six youngsters riding their bikes to school - as if on parade, the street all to themselves. They appeared not to have a care in the world. I suspect that at this time of the year, early May, their thoughts are focused on the remaining few days of school before summer recess. I, too, had those very same thoughts, oh so many years ago. And as if by magic, riding atop an invisible magic carpet, I was transported to a different time, a different place. It was the 1960's, Morrell Street in southwest Detroit - the stately, Ambassador Bridge to Canada in plain view from my backyard. Rows of neat, single- and double-family homes that lined both sides of this lovely city strip. My mind and my heart were moving in a measured rhythm.   A flood of recollections overcame me and time stopped...I stopped...though my mind raced backward. Far, far back, I could hear my Mom and Dad calling out to me, reminding me that even though school was just across the street I had better not be late. I kept my eyes closed, tightly shut so that the memories would not, could not escape.

My friends, have you ever had one of these types of moments? Has a simple and singular situation transported you back to an individual and personal past event?

I savor these moments. It seems that the older I get the more often these mystical events occur. They don't frighten me. They don't make me wonder whether I'm undergoing some sort of "mid-life crisis." Not in the least. For me, it is God giving me a little taste of what once was. When this happens, I feel a renewed sense of strength, purpose and renewal and I am infused with, if I may, a 'divine energy.'

What do I do with this sacred source of drive and motivation? I share it. I put it to good and constructive use. On this particular day, I went to pulling weeds, cleaning the curbside of debris, sweeping the sidewalks, all the while praying my Creed to God on high and thanking the Creator for infinite and unconditional love and grace. Before I knew it, I had finished cleaning our large front yard and parts of both our neighbor's yards to the left and right of our home. Oh well. After that, I cleaned my hands thoroughly, scrubbed the dirt from under my once clean and trimmed nails and left for my day at church...it wasn't even 8am yet. I was overflowing with exhilaration and a deep sense of joy and happiness.   And once I arrived at St. Nicholas an hour later, I took to pulling out more weeds from the south lawn and gardens, picking up the plastic bottles and cigarette butts that always seem far too comfortable landing upon our property.  

In the end, we take what God gives us, that is our energy, our time, our passion and our drive, put all into action and see what amazing things happen. This is, after all, our mandate. This is our ministry. Listen...is God calling? If anything, God is persistent. Keep listening and harken to what the Creator is saying and enjoy the journey God leads us upon.

Amen.

-Manny