I went to Mass this morning in the town where my family moved. It was a cute little modern church that is bilingual. I went to the English Mass. Afterwards, there were tables full of packaged baked goods and everyone was taking one, so, I took a box of donuts. After checking out of my VRBO, I made one last stop at my son’s house. The kids were happy to see the donuts. I told them they need to go to church now to get more. When I hugged my son goodbye, the tears started coming. I tried not to cry too much as I went around and hugged everyone, even my grandson’s room mate who is officially a part of the family. I told them to take care of each other and we exchanged “Love you!” as I headed out the door. Then I started my drive, trying not to think too much about how far away they will be now. On my drive, I stopped at a church in my book, “Monuments, Marvels, and Miracles; A Travelers Guide to Catholic America”. According to the story, in the mid 1800’s, a gentleman had an apparition of Our Lady who pointed to the area and said it would be a happy and prosperous city. The gentleman took her word for it, platted the land, and named it after her. The church was closed but the pastor was next door outside the rectory tending his garden. He let me in to look around. Then I showed him where the church was highlighted in my book. He never heard of it, but thought it was “pretty cool”. Then he gave me a travelers blessing before I left. No matter how I’m feeling, being in a church and having these encounters reminds me that God is always with me.

I Found God today in sadness followed by peace.