J.C.'S STRIDE

Moments of grace are proof that faith, love live on

By Joyce Coronel | April 2, 2009 | The Catholic Sun

The world tells us that fewer people believe in Jesus Christ these days, yet on April 12, millions of Christians will rejoice in His victory over sin and death.

Here in the Diocese of Phoenix, 1,012 people will join the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil. We have 21 men studying to become priests, three of whom will be ordained this June, and there are 28 men on track to become permanent deacons.

So much for the “rising tide” of atheism.

Two months ago, I was perched in front of my laptop, reading up on stuff like this and working away on a story for The Catholic Sun, when my phone rang. It was the call I knew was inevitable, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks. My beloved father was dying.

In a matter of hours, family members gathered at his bedside to pray, laugh, cry and tell stories. As people of faith, we knew this wasn’t the end of the story. Dad would be sorely missed, but we were sure he would be soon embraced by our loving God.

There were just three of us there as Dad gradually stopped breathing a couple days later. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I laid my head on his chest and heard his heartbeat softly fade. My father, my hero… gone from this earth. It was unforgettable, terrible and precious all at once.

My dad was a champion of the poor and the unborn who lived his faith quietly and sincerely. He was utterly devoted to his family. In one of my last conversations with him, he was — as always — full of optimism and hope for the future.

No coincidence

I don’t doubt in the least that he is still watching over me and helping me to be full of hope, even as I grieve. Some people experience a crisis of faith at the death of a love one; for me, the existence of a loving God is more real than ever.

About two weeks after the funeral, I was trying to shovel through the immense stack of papers on my desk. Not surprisingly, a working mother of five out of action for a couple weeks leads to a staggering tangle of paperwork and mail.

As I neared the bottom of the pile, I found an unopened envelope addressed to me in my father’s familiar handwriting. Somehow it wound up in the stack of stuff before I had a chance to read it.

My hands shook as I carefully opened the envelope, knowing it was the last one I’d ever receive from Dad.

It was chock full of jokes about the gifts we gave him for Christmas, and strangely, I don’t think he’d ever written such a funny letter to me before. I’ve saved every card or letter he’d ever sent, and this one was truly unique. I could tell he had to be up there winking at me, trying to cheer me up.

A few days later, I was stuck in traffic and wishing I could call and talk to him. As my eyes welled up with tears, I decided to switch on the radio. To my amazement, it was just in time to catch the opening strains of my dad’s favorite tune. It’s a silly song, really, one you’ll hardly ever hear on the radio since it hit the top of the charts way back in 1971:

“Jeremiah was a bullfrog! Was a good friend of mine…”

Singing along, I smiled, picturing Dad tapping his toes to the beat and grinning at me, pleading with me to rejoice in his homecoming.

It is in shining moments of grace like this that we know there are no coincidences, only the loving providence of God. The One who conquered death wants us know in the depth of our hearts that faith and love will never pass away. Our loved ones are waiting for us on the balcony. Let us persevere in running the race.

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Joyce Coronel is a regular contributor to The Catholic Sun. Send comments to letters@catholicsun.org.