Reflecting On How Life Provides Important Perspective

I cannot recall a storm developing so quickly.  Two days prior to the Pilgrimage for Life, there was little chance for snow, and our greatest concern was temperatures in the mid-20s.  Having made this journey 10 times now, I was pleased that one of the uncontrollable forces was cooperating—the weather would be great.

As we loaded buses with 220 pilgrims, the forecast had changed only slightly.  The temperature on January 22 was predicted to be 23 degrees in D.C., but that was easy enough to handle with wool socks and a warm coat.  I settled in for the long drive east without fear of ice, snow, or treacherous conditions.

Things changed dramatically over the next 12 hours.  Upon arrival at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton parish in Lake Ridge, Va., we were greeted with the news that there was now an expectation of 3-5 inches of snow and plummeting temperatures.  Having lived in D.C. for just under five years, a cold chill ran up my back. 

D.C. is not a city that can handle snow, and one inch can shut everything down; 5 inches would be catastrophic.  As you now know, the eastern U.S. was hit by a freak snowstorm that dumped from 3-12 inches all along the seaboard; and temperatures plummeted to near-record lows. 

The day of the March dawned with temperatures in the single digits and wind chills of 15-20 below 0.  Our pilgrims were unprepared for those conditions, and we had now moved into questions of safety.  As we deliberated the best courses of action, I began fearing what might happen; being candid, I was stressed and worried.

Jump ahead two days:  All 220 souls in my care were home safe; the buses encountered few obstacles during our return, and no one suffered from the cold.  I cannot express the profound relief I felt waking the next morning after our safe return knowing every one of the pilgrims was secure.  As I walked to the kitchen, I thought about all the good that had been done on our pilgrimage, and I prepared for a warm cup of coffee.

Unfortunately, the temperatures here had plummeted into the single digits, too, and the kitchen pipes were frozen.  Typically, frustration would lead to an angry outburst, but things were different.  I texted my wife:

“Pipes are frozen again.”

“Really? I know this takes away from your resting,” she replied.

“Eh, we’re homeowners. This is par for the course. It will take a day to thaw them,” I texted back.

Her response: “Huh? Who is this man?”

I laughed at my wife’s reply.  She was expecting a stressed response, but I didn’t feel that within me.  Instead, I thought about how blessed I was to be home, frozen pipes or not.  I began to thank God for all the blessings of my life, and I was sincere in my thanks. 

It was a good morning, and the cold couldn’t change that for me.  Worrying about how I would get the 220 souls home through snowy, icy mountains in sub-freezing temperatures put things in perspective.

Perspective is an easily overlooked blessing.  God often takes us to challenging vantages in order to allow a better view at what really matters.  For me, I lament that we missed the actual March for Life, but this is not the whole reason we go to D.C. 

We call this a pilgrimage, and this year that took on special meaning:  We endured a great deal to advocate for others, and our efforts were noticed.  A homeless shelter fed their residents from the food we had ordered from our caterer; our parish family at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton drew closer in prayer for us, knowing the extreme weather we faced; our youth witnessed the great care their leaders showed for them as we labored to make the safest decisions.  And we endured all of this to show the dignity of life. 

It may not have ended the way any of us had hoped, but from the right perspective, it was a blessed and successful Pilgrimage for Life.  Thank God for perspective.

Dabrowski is the Diocesan Director of Youth and Young Adult Ministry.