A long time ago, in a jungle village in Mongolia, there lived an elderly woman and her son.

"My time has come" said the woman, "I must walk to the top of the mountain and meet the god of death."

Her son said, "Let me carry you, the voyage is too long for you to make on your own."

The elderly woman protested, saying that if her son also walked to the top of the mountain, the god of death could take him too.

So early the next morning, while the elderly woman was sleeping, her son stole into her room, put her on his back and, despite her protests, began the long trek up the mountain to see the god of death.

To make matters worse, the elderly woman was hanging onto branches and snapping them as they made their way up the trail, impeding their progress, and slowing them down.

"Stop that mother!" Her son said, "You will tip us over and we will get hurt! Is that what you want?"

After hours and hours of hiking, the elderly woman continuing to grab hold of branches, she and her son finally reached the top of the mountain, where the boy laid his mother down.

"Let me ask you one question," he said, "Why did you insist on grabbing all those branches, wasn't it enough that I took you up here? Aren't you grateful that we finally made it here?"

"My son," said the elderly woman, "You know that you must go quickly, for the god of death is here. Please see that I was not trying to impede our progress, I was concerned with you finding your way back to the village, so I marked the trail."

In the Paschal mystery we find God at work, moving beyond our understanding, working for good, working for us.

Our present adversities are not without value. Hang on. Easter is coming.