It was one of those days when nothing goes right.
The clouds hung low. My mood was dark. Exhaustion weighed on me.
Work had been a cascade of frustrations: urgent calls, unhappy clients.
And the knowledge that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't satisfy them.
In short, a day like any other.
And to make it worse, traffic jams on the way home.
Then construction on the highway.
Intersection after intersection to cross.
The first light: red.
The second light: red.
The third light: red.
Now I'm the one seeing red.
Red like bad blood, churning inside me.
A brilliant idea strikes: why not pray?
Of course—it's a good trick, and it usually works! And it costs me nothing!
"Lord, I beg you, make the next light turn green."
I'm certain He will answer.
He loves me. He can do anything!
I reach the next intersection: the light is red.
"What? How is this possible?
Have I forgotten how to pray?
Is God going deaf?"
I'll try again.
With more focus, more conviction this time!
Surely my faith will move mountains—the light will be green!
Like all the others, it turns red.
There are days when the sky seems to collapse on top of you, and you feel the urge to cry.
Strange.
Then something shifts. A great peace floods through me.
I stop asking God for anything.
I realize: if that light had turned green, I would have forgotten about Him.
Would I even have thanked Him?
You've guessed it: every other light was red.
And each time, I prayed for the people driving alongside me.
Really, I did.
That day, a small piece of sky fell on me.
And since then, I find myself cursing red lights just a little bit less.
I don't know what else to do to find a little Peace.
His Peace.
Father André Roberti, 2002
(From: Alleluja - Arche n. 28)
