This column is part of the CNS columns package. This column is offered, in cooperation with the North Texas Catholic of Fort Worth, Texas, as a bonus to CNS subscribers.
Fierce heat creates a shimmering mirage on the blacktop, but it's the only sign of water there is.
On the flat highway between towns and crossroads, the monotony of the parched landscape sensitizes the traveler's eye for any change to break the visual boredom. Of the limited vertical possibilities, none is more welcome to the eye or the heart than a little stand of trees, cottonwoods mostly, breaking the horizontal plane with their green leaves and waving branches. If the heat is bad enough and the drought has been long, these volunteer groves may be the only thing green you'll see for miles, and just the sight of them can refresh a weary spirit. I think these little stands of vegetation make hope spring up because, in the barren heat, they give wordless testimony to the presence of water. Sunday's first reading reminds us that to trust in the Lord, to put oneself in God's hands, is to be like a tree planted by a stream, green in the fiercest heat, fruitful when others are bare.