Thursday, April 9, 2009


each light represents a gift

There was a time in my life when every year I was disappointed by my birthday. One year, while I was in college, in order to solve this problem, I decided to declare the week before my birthday "Suzanne week." The rationale for this move was that at least one of the days leading up to April 9 would have to be a good day. But then, in April of 1993, I began a new stage in life, when every day of the whole year felt good enough to be my birthday. That's what it's like to encounter Christ. What happened? My first child was born. Though this experience was ambiguous, and I didn't have the wisdom of CL to help me to call it an encounter with Christ, nonetheless, that's what it was.

To be handed back my life, so that each day is a complete miracle and so that moments that pass each contain amazement and wonder is not something I earned or even worked for. I just had to want it with all my heart, to expect it with trembling, hoping against hope. This is what I pray will happen to you.

1 comment:

clairity said...

Bless you Suzanne. What a beautiful day it is!

Dumbstruck by the Mystery

...our temptation is always to impose our prejudices or our measure on reality -- except when we are faced with a fact that leaves us dumbstruck, and instead of dominating the fact ourselves, we are dominated, overcome by it. If there were no moments of this kind, the Mystery could do anything, but in the end, we would reduce everything to the usual explanation. But not even a Nobel Prize winner can stop himself from being dumbstruck before an absolutely gratuitous gesture. If there were not these moments, we would find answers, explanations, and interpretations to avoid being struck by anything. It is good that some things happen that we cannot dominate, then we have to take them seriously, and this is the great question of philosophy. If the conditions for the possibility of knowledge (see Kant) impose themselves on reality or if there is something that is so powerfully disproportionate that it does not let itself be "grasped" by the conditions of possibility, then the horizon opens. If this were not the case, then we could dominate everything and be in peace, or at least without drama. Instead, not even the intelligence of a Nobel Prize winner could prevent him from coming face-to-face with a fact that made him dumbstruck -- instead of dominating, it was he who was dominated. Here begins the drama, because I am called to answer. It is the drama that unfolds between us and the Mystery, through certain facts, certain moments, in which the Mystery imposes itself with this evidence. These are facts that we cannot put in our pocket, which we cannot reduce to antecedent factors.
-- Julian Carron in "Friends, that is, Witnesses."