the motives of my heart

I’m a night owl. So it’s no surprise that I love stargazing. On a dark night, even from my urban backyard, I’m awed by the constellations above me—and my imagination becomes fascinated by all that is there that I cannot see. 

planetarium photo

The other day at daily Mass, I heard St. Paul warning the Corinthians to refrain from making judgments on one another, for when “the Lord comes…He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness.” He will make known “the motives of our hearts.”

Yet even as I heard the words, I was distracted by the woman sitting across from me, making noises and whispering words. I was annoyed. I mean, doesn't she know how to behave at church? The Mass went on, but my distraction grew. It wasn't until we lined up for communion and I glanced at her once again that I noticed her wet face, a single tear on her cheek, and the way her head was completely bowed in reverence.

More often than I care to admit, I judge someone based on the few stars that are visible to my simple-minded eyes. I not only dismiss a person based on how they’re dressed, what they drive, or by their accent—I harden my heart with a snap judgment on their life. 

moon through the trees in my backyard

"He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness.”

[this post in an edited version was first posted here]

don't miss the fireballs!

I've said before how much I love the night sky -- and tonight and tomorrow night, August 12 & 13, promise to be especially notable.

According to an article in the L.A. Times:

The Perseids were recently declared the fireball champion of annual meteor showers by Bill Cooke, head of NASA's Meteoroid Environment Office.  

Fireballs are especially bright meteors that glow at least as brightly as Jupiter or Venus in the night sky. 

"We have found that one meteor shower produces more fireballs than any other," Cooke said in a statement. "It's the Perseid meteor shower, which peaks on Aug. 12 and 13."

It begins at midnight, and increases as the night progresses. Don't miss the fireballs!

All that I cannot see

I’m a night owl. So it’s no surprise that I love stargazing. On a dark night, even from my urban backyard, I’m awed by the constellations above me—and my imagination becomes fascinated by all that is there that I cannot see. 

The other day at daily Mass, I heard St. Paul warning the Corinthians to refrain from making judgments on one another, for when “the Lord comes…He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness.” He will make known “the motives of our hearts.”

Yet even as I heard the words, I was distracted by the woman sitting across from me, making noises and whispering words. I was annoyed. I mean, doesn't she know how to behave at church? The Mass went on, but my distraction grew. It wasn't until we lined up for communion and I glanced at her once again that I noticed her wet face, a single tear on her cheek, and the way her head was completely bowed in reverence.

More often than I care to admit, I judge someone based on the few stars that are visible to my simple-minded eyes. I not only dismiss a person based on how they’re dressed, what they drive, or by their accent—I harden my heart with a snap judgment on their life. 

sun over No. Padre Island

"He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness.”