Blizzard in Omaha

In the heart of Omaha, Nebraska as the church bells echoed their final call, Kathy and Sister Mary Claire, accompanied by their sprightly dog Mini, stepped out into the world anew, their hearts warm with the day's homily. The sky, a quilt of grey, seemed to hold its breath as they embarked on their walk back to the hotel. The Gospel that day spoke of signs and resurrections, of faith weathering the storm, much like Jonah in the belly of the whale.

As they made their way, the whispers of a blizzard began to swirl around them, the wind howling like the chorus of an ancient hymn. Sister Mary Claire, her habit fluttering like a banner of faith, held onto Kathy, her rosary beads a subtle clink amidst the growing roar. Mini, the little corgi, marched valiantly, her coat a patch of warmth against the snow's encroaching chill.

The world turned white, the streets of Omaha disappearing beneath a shroud of snow, as if the city itself was being called to slumber. But the trio, bound by an unspoken covenant, persevered. They thought of the morning's reflection, how trials are but a testament to one's belief, and in each other's company, they found strength.

Eventually, as all storms do, it passed, leaving them at the doorstep of the Fontenelle hotel, a haven of hearth and home. Inside, they peeled off the layers of their adventure, the cold relinquishing its grip, replaced by the cozy embrace of warmth from the steam radiator. As they settled in, Mini curled at their feet, they shared reflections of the storm, of the resilience of faith, and of the unexpected beauty found within trials.

In the comfort of the Fontenelle, they ended their day, not with the weight of hardship, but with the lightness of having witnessed yet another sign, a testament, much like the resurrection, to the enduring spirit of hope. And there, in Omaha, they found not just shelter from the storm but a renewed affirmation of their journey together.

Today's Gospel Reading     

Morning Prayer

Evening Prayer