Catastrophes do not always come in big packages like the earthquake in Haiti or the tsunami is Indonesia. My friend and neighbor experienced her own catastrophe this weekend. Hers came inside the small package of one family, but it packed just as much punch for them as Katrina did for New Orleans. And her catastrophe sent me into that field of deep inquiry as to “what the heck is happening here?”

Mary had finally found her fairy tale dream come true. After cleaning her life up after a somewhat messy and expensive divorce, she decided to try an online dating site and just as she was about to give up, she met a wonderful, kind man named Robert. It turned out that they were a perfect fit. Mary would soon be able to stop working since Robert was very well off and very interested in traveling the world together. They loved the same activities, shared many interests and generally were grateful at their luck in finding one another. After a year of getting to know each other, of letting their grown children adapt to the idea and of testing the waters, Robert proposed and Mary happily accepted. They were set for a summer wedding and looking forward to a blissful life together.

Easter morning, Robert’s heart stopped. Now everyone waits in limbo to see if Robert will wake up and still be Robert. Will the earth return to its proper axis or will it be forever altered?

When life delivers those experiences that feel like the Universe pulling the rug out from under us, faith in severely tested. I think that sometimes people choose to stay in negative life patterns just because they can’t handle the sensation of thinking all is well only to discover that life actually comes with no guarantees. It takes courage to face the possibility of profound disappointment or loss.

My personal challenge is to remember that although it appeared as if Mary had finally arrived in that land of happily ever after, there really is no such thing as an arrival at all. There is only the journey. Only the constantly shifting sands of our perceptions. When I can let go of my disappointment that there really is no train station labeled “Perfection”, then I can begin to relax into the journey itself. And on a good day, I can even open myself up to looking for the information being communicated to me through the journey, whether it is heart-warming or heartbreaking.

Is the train ride more of a challenge today than it was before Sunday? Absolutely. But no one can say what is around the next curve in the track. No one can predict the love or connections that are possible from this catastrophe. Just like natural disasters bring out the best in humans, our own catastrophes can be the source of extraordinary depths of love and light. So today, even with a heavy heart, I lean out of the train window, stretching to see what the next curve in the journey will bring.