MAY THE ROAD RISE UP TO MEET YOU

 

As 2025 begins, I sit on a rainy day in my dining room looking out at an unusually gloomy day.  The rain is falling hard, willing me to stop and contemplate.

 

This new year has promise and will no doubt be filled with many joys. Neighbors have been cheerfully calling out “Happy New Year” to me as I walk; emails are filling my inbox with optimism and hope… texts speak of gratitude and plans and family and love. I am reminded of the beauty of community, expanded in this age beyond geographical bounds.

 

I am reaching out, as I launch into my new year, with a request to my community to find what each beloved friend or family member would like me to pray for.  And I have received dozens of well-thought-out, often deeply personal requests.  Almost always, as a part of the response, comes an expression of gratitude for my kindness in wanting to pray for them and for their specific intentions.  But the idea did not come to me from a place of kindness, or even from a place of my own at all. 

 

On this gloomy day, in this moment of contemplation, I reflect on the source of my outreach and realize it has everything to do with the indelible mark on my heart and soul left by my friend Father Mike Carroll.  He inspired me to be a credible witness, to see into people’s hearts and to seek to minister to their needs, right where they were.  He met people in their joys and their sorrows with the same listening ear and the same open heart.  He drew them back into themselves to discern their heart’s desire, and he inserted himself into their situation - always with consolation, sometimes with advice, and often with solutions… but first and foremost with prayer.  Father Mike believed in a term we often discussed: “encounter.”  He was committed to face-to-face interaction with his flock, and he shepherded them wherever and whenever they were in need.  There were many times when, regardless of the hour, he would receive a call while we were together which might have been handled by phone.  But he stopped, gathered his belongings, and was off to see the caller.  He attended to every need without delay, never hesitating but always encouraging, in person.  Miles away or close at hand, his beloved flock knew his voice, and he heard their call.

 

Now, as I set out to pray for the specific intentions which I have received, I think of Father Mike coming down from the altar after his homily to ask congregants to call out what or who they wanted us to pray for. His most memorable responses came from the students at the Wednesday school Mass, where kids’ requests were unfiltered and sincere.  How he loved those kids!  And they certainly responded to him at Mass, as well as around the church and school campus.  He made it a point to know their names, as he did with every parishioner and even every homeless person he encountered.  One day, when we were working on a film introducing new parishioners to the parish, I remember complimenting him for his attention to detail and telling him he had inspired me to really see the homeless rather than passing them by.  His response was, “well, that’s good, Love, but next time try and learn their name.  Sure, look them in the eye, but call them by name… that can really make a difference.”

 

So many stories like that flood my mind as I look out my window writing this. And I realize that despite my sharpened eyesight thanks to recent cataract surgery, the world looks blurry.  And the rain seems more like angels’ tears. I know why I’m crying, but I don’t know why they would be.  Because my beloved friend Father Mike is gone from this life and spending eternity with them.

 

Lucky angels.  Happy Heaven.  God’s mercy in letting us have Father Mike for 77 years has now shifted to taking him to his eternal reward.  Of course, I rejoice knowing he has run his race and finished his work.  But in the weeks and months ahead, as I long to see his face and hear his voice and share a meal or a story or a prayer, I will cherish memories of our every encounter.

 

In this new year and going forward, I will remember that challenge to be the credible witness Father Mike called me to be.  And I will give it all I have, in his honor, giving God all the glory.  Thank you, Father Mike, for the life lessons you taught me by example. Thank you for allowing me to minister by your side.  You strengthened my faith, guided my path, and kept me grounded, grateful, and eternity-minded.  Until we meet again, rest in God’s presence.  For you embodied the attribute to which we all aspire: “good and faithful servant.”