August 6, 2012, Movies, Bikes & The Eucharist

I was walking by our youngest daughter the other night when she was watching a movie.  “What are you watching?” I asked. Wrath of the Titans came the reply.  We exchanged knowing glances as I passed by, securing her thoughts that she would be watching it alone.  I have never been into mythology so I dismissed it without question.

She invited my husband to watch it with her, and he did.  As I passed back through the room, I caught one of the scenes and was amazed by the graphics.  The crashing boulders and fire and drama--all flashing before my eyes—grabbed my attention.

After standing there for a few minutes, I was sold.  A bowl of popcorn and a couple of hours later, the movie was done and my attention had held through it all.

I wonder how many things I have missed over the years simply because it wasn’t something that interested me, things that I have established in my mind that are not “me.”  I suspect I am not alone in doing this.  It seems easy to put limits on ourselves, doesn’t it?

For instance, my husband was talking to a guy the other night about the rails-to-trails bike paths.  Made from old railroad beds, they are a unique biking experience through small towns and nature’s beauty.  

While I would love to do this, I have always been a little afraid that these trails would be too hard for me, what with their 3% grade and my history of arthritis.

I know, I know, 3% is probably next to nothing, and my arthritis is in remission, but still, it seems like it would be too much.  And since one day, many, many years ago I joined my husband at the local recreation area and attempted some very hilly areas on my mountain bike (which I thought would kill me on the spot), I am certain today that I should probably never again attempt anything new.

Okay, I’m exaggerating, I’m not that bad, but my point is, it is easy to miss out on life because of that memory card we carry in our back pocket that we allow to shape our actions today.  It is a mistake to do this when it prevents us from being fully engaged in life.  Life here on earth, although imperfect and lacking the beatific vision we hope to one day enjoy in heaven, is still a gift to be embraced and one for which to be grateful.

And speaking of grateful, during Mass the other day when the prayers for the bread and wine were being offered and thanksgiving was being given to God for providing it, I was struck by the realization that we would not even have the sacrifice of the Mass were it not for God providing the “fruit of the earth and the work of human hands.”

How wonderful is this life in Christ that we share and how great our appreciation should be for all he has done for us. It is easy to forget that our life, in its entirety, is a gift from God.  The people that we share it with, the material possessions we enjoy—the very fact that we even have faith—are gifts.  Even the sufferings and challenges we experience are not outside his loving embrace.

A life lived in appreciation, with a loving heart full of gratitude, is simply a return, an offering back to God, for that which he has given.

Like the bread and wine which we offer back to him for the Eucharistic sacrifice, he can transform our lives into something more beautiful than we can ever imagine—if we are willing to cooperate without setting conditions.

So let us remember, if we wait for the crashing boulders and fire and drama to grab our attention, we will be too late, for right now, today, is the best time to be thankful!