It was Saturday, and we were in the middle of the carefree days of summer. It was time to kick back and take a break from the routines. How else to do that other than take a long drive somewhere, right? This year, we were eyeing a Southern California trip once again.
The thing with long drives is the experience not getting old even if let us say, it was for the nth time going to the same place because it doesn't follow that when you go to the same city or state that the experience will always be the same. No, it doesn't have to be. As long as you go to see other places in the area, the experience will be different each time. Actually, the same is true even when you go to see the places you have already been. Take for instance, Disneyland and Universal Studios.
So, all were excited for this year's long drive to Southern California. As with every other family, the excitement heightens as the day gets closer. Beyond any doubt, I can say that this is true for every family going on an adventure together.
And, as with every family going on a road trip, it is a given that we would plan the time we have to leave. In our experience, there was that peculiar feeling driving before sunrise, so it was still dark outside. And it was by that experience that we modeled our departure time to leaving very early whenever we hit the road for a family getaway.
This year was no different, especially since we had to make it to the vigil Mass that day. It was an ambitious plan, I get it. And knowing that in recent times, we haven't been good at staying on the course because there always was something popping up preventing us from following through with the target time, it sure was an ambitious plan.
As a matter of fact, I stopped discussing it at the dinner table, unlike in the past, when we talked about leaving early and we would all get excited without fail. But, what I recall saying this time was, "Yes, let's try to leave early." Big difference there. Not that I'm not an optimist. I was just being a realist.
Anyway, so Saturday morning came and embarrassing as it is to admit, we fell behind schedule. We got over it. There was still a lot to be had, after all.
As usual, long drives meant singing to different musical genres. Snacking in between stops was all part of it. But then, three hours in, guilt lurked in my head because it was apparent that we would miss the Mass. At least by my estimation, as I ran it in my head. I won't be okay with that. Period. We had to be at the vigil Mass, so we don't run the risk of missing it the next day, all because we were tired from the long drive and all the walking involved as we checked off one item after another on the list.
The order of the day was to check in at the hotel, see two of the places we haven't been to, have lunch and then attend the vigil Mass, not necessarily in the order. All these after a nearly 6-hour drive. Even longer than that if we were to include the rest stops we made. Yes, it was pushing it, but we didn't have the luxury of time. It was imperative that we abide by the day-to-day itinerary that we put together for a meaningful vacation.
The idea for this vacation was to do as much given the short time we had—only four days to do it all. We were running late. I was quiet, felt uneasy so I didn’t waste another minute. I rushed to God to tell Him that I would hate to miss the Mass, only because it was practical to leave on a Saturday. It had to be on a Saturday, so our older son would use just one day of his accumulated vacation. He is off on the weekends and works remotely on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.
I insisted to God that it rests in His hands if He wanted us at Mass later that day, without missing a bit of the fun we wanted to have for that day. I also said that if we were to miss the Mass, the guilt of having missed it would linger, thereby affecting any fun before us to a degree. I knew that that was not how God would want us to spend our vacation.
Now here is the part that blew my mind. I had to search for something in my bag, I could no longer recall what it was, but how uncanny that it was in that area where a white-painted cross up atop the roadside hill was where I had the urge to turn my head to my right?
My face lit up, and my lips parted in a smile. Why? It's because I hoped for a sign from God to tell me that He got our schedule in control. So, without question or hesitation, I took it as His means to plant that thought in my head as such—a sign.
To cut the story short, sure thing, we found ourselves at Mary, Star of the Sea Church. With no shortage of fun. Amazing stuff, isn't it?
And the church? The church was stunning! The altar was presented almost like the Holy Sepulcher in the Vatican. Large, tall marble columns that are all done very ornately. You could tell the planning it took the parishioners to make it a reality for their parish. And the fundraising efforts, too, to come up with such a majestic altar.
Everything else complements the overall aesthetics. There were enormous stained glass windows—all done beautifully! All of it screamed ”labor of love.” But what caught my eyes the most was St. Raphael, the Archangel stained glass window to the right side of the altar because my spiritual buddy whom I asked to pray for our trip said this in her text:
"Sending prayer for safety and good health Archangel Raphael, pray for my friend and her family. Cover them with your hedge of protection. Bring them to their destination safe and sound."
Yes, St. Raphael made sure we had an easy trip. We arrived a little earlier than expected to check in earlier, too.
What’s the significance of this church? Well, there were other Catholic churches in the area within a few miles of each other. So to choose to go to Mary, Star of the Sea was all part of God's planning. The good Archangel was waiting at the church to welcome us. He had us in his care.
Now is your turn to share your stories ingrained with a heavenly touch. Shoot me a message, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Many blessings!
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