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Padre (Maj) Howard Rittenhouse
Most mornings, I watch news – mostly because I enjoy a good dose of depression first thing in the morning. Most days, the “weather disappointer” (‘cause it’s always disappointing) intones, “But the temperatures in Alberta continue to be below seasonal averages.” If I wasn’t depressed while watching the latest litany of misery and wretchedness from around the world, I am after the weather report. I mean, come on! It’s spring, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it?!
Sure, spring is here. It must be – the calendar says so. And yes, the days are getting longer (thanks be to God), and the sun is that little bit warmer, and the snow is slooooooooowly melting. So, spring is here – apparently, so we’re told, I guess.
But it just seems to take so very long. The winter is very long here with so little to do (yes, I know – snowmobiling, skiing, ice fishing, tobaganning. But people who enjoy such pursuits are odd, in my exalted opinion). I dream of warm spring sunshine, the smell of the earth, my hands dirty from gardening or cleaning the garage floor (now who’s weird?), and a beer on the deck. But it’s not yet to be.
Like the Monkees sang in “I’m a Believer” (covered by Smash Mouth in Shrek), “Disappointment haunted all my dreams.” Disappointment is like a loose piece of carpet or stair tread: it sits there, waiting (the evil thing); and along you come innocently whistling “Over the Hills and Far Away” (or something – well, if you don’t like that song, imagine your own song then!), and WHAM! You’re flat on your face, feeling ambushed by circumstance. What just happened? Why did it happen? What did I do to deserve this monstrous come-uppance from fate? Well, often, the answer is: nothing. You didn’t do anything; you didn’t end up on fate’s hit list for being shallow, pompous, arrogant, heedless, clueless, or self-centred.
Jesus once answered a similar question from his disciples when they asked, upon seeing a blind man, what he’d done or what his parents had done for him to deserve being born blind. Jesus replied (and I’m paraphrasing), “If you picked Column A, you’re wrong. And if you picked Column B, you’re wrong. It’s not fate; it’s not karma; it wasn’t just desserts. It’s life.” Later he said that into every life a little rain must fall…. No, wait. Someone else said that. But He said something similar: “In this life you will have trouble.” And He was so right. And I don’t mean trouble with the weather. You know what I mean: financial problems, health scares or worse, marriage disintegration, postings to that nameless place, and all the myriad multitude of melancholy circumstances that make up most of our lives (cheerful, ain’t I?).
Life throws curve balls, and sometimes it drills us right between the eyes. And certainly, some of these difficulties are self-inflicted, but often they’re not. And really, it isn’t about why you’re facing this disappointment or crisis; it’s about how you cope with it when it’s sitting on your couch like the last guest who won’t leave. Because you can count on getting drilled between the eyes; that’s just life. But you don’t have to carry the burden alone.
So call us. We’ve got your six.