Early this morning, my husband and I went outside, peering up into the darkness in our front yard. We were hoping to see the jellyfish cloud from the SpaceX launch in Florida. We couldn’t spot it. We gazed at the sky, went inside to get some morning tasks done, and went back out to look again.
Finally, we gave up. We never saw the rocket cloud. Maybe we have too many trees or too much light pollution or just not the right location.
It would have been fun to witness, but we weren’t too disappointed. Seeing the cloud from a rocket launch all the way in Maryland would have been a bonus, but we will see something else special in the sky another day. It just didn’t happen for us today.
As I dropped our son off at school and headed to work, I thought about how hard we try to see things. We look for rainbows after a storm. We watch for a baby’s first tooth and listen for a child’s first words. We search for answers and opportunities and clarity. And we seek signs that God is near to us, signs that he loves and walks with us even in the sad, difficult, troubling moments—especially in the sad, difficult, troubling moments.
We want so much to see. We travel and take the time to see new things and familiar ones. We want to understand. We want to experience. We want to hold onto what we see and remember it for years to come. And every once in a while we see something that truly changes us.
On this day 109 years ago, tens of thousands of people saw the miracle of the sun in Fátima, Portugal. In the months before that event, the Blessed Mother had appeared to three shepherd children, Lucia, Jacinta, and Francisco, speaking to them about the importance of prayer, the Rosary, and repenting from sin. And Mary had promised an apparition on Oct. 13, 1917, which is why so many people were there to see the sun dance and change colors in the sky.
Even when we don’t witness such an extraordinary miracle, what we see has an impact on us. It inspires us. It makes us who we are. And so maybe today we can be open to what we will see and what we hope to see—and how God might be speaking to us in the world around us. Maybe he has a message for you, just for you. It might be a request or an invitation. It might be a call to action. It might simply be a sign that he is surrounding you in his love and peace.
Whatever you see today, I hope you witness glimpses of beauty and love, kindness and mercy, healing and understanding, possibility and hope. And where you see suffering and pain, may you see God’s invitation to bring a little light and a little love to those you encounter. May he give us the strength, the courage, the wisdom, and the understanding to do his work in some little way.
