I was told last night that Fr. Henry did a great homily using this song. I wish I had not missed it, but I was also doing some important work for God: I was listening. It was a good day. I spend the better part of the day at Children's hospital where it was calm and yet very holy. I had some great conversations with different people, peers and patients. Little boy so proud that he put in a new port on his tummy for his medicine "all by himself" and "it didn't hurt too much." A nurse asked me if I could officiate at her wedding (she was Catholic!) and I laughed. And there were coincidences that happened. God is not going to let me forget any one of the things He has placed in my path. He wants me to watch and listen and wait. What has been given is only the beginning. There is much more to follow, I simply have to keep my eyes open along with my heart.
I stood in the pulpit of a Catholic Church yesterday and I got to choose what was said. That was another gift. I stood there, all hot and bothered...because...I was scared a bit...and because I knew it was a gift...and because I wondered if I had the courage to say what I wanted to say to them, what I thought HE wanted me to say to them. I began and I watched their eyes and they were so very open to me. I felt them in my heart. I don't know how I began or how I ended, but in the middle was the most important part, which is so Jewish in its style...I read my favorite passage from Augustine...or rather I began it. As Augustine begins to realize that God loves him, he is totally slain by that love. "Late have I loved you, O beauty ever ancient, ever new...late have I loved you..." I didn't read THAT part. I was too afraid. Don't want to hit them with a sledge hammer. But want to jolt them into the possibility of falling in love with God. And as I read, and I saw their faces, I wanted to read the whole thing to them, but I knew It would be too much...but for a moment, I was in heaven. He loved me first. I get to love them now. And I was on fire inside.
I thought that was the end of a seven day roller coaster ride with God, but I was wrong. I met with a couple of 10th grade confirmation students. As I listened to them, I felt my own healing come over me. I marveled at how, when I was their age, and needed so desperately for someone bigger than me to give a damn about my life, I was listening to them...and their struggles with God, what they wanted and how they worried about not measuring up. I thought, how marvelous it was to be present with them and with God. Just a couple of kind words could have changed many of the choices I made back then. Here was my healing. To be allowed to listen. That is the most godly act we can do: listen to each other.
And the day didn't end there. I left my books behind...again. Part of me was in a panic. And then I thought about it. No, God has it figured out. Whoever finds them must need to have them. Just like the time I left one of my books in Fr Henry's office. Egads! My truth out there on paper! But it was what was needed to make the next step happen. I had to let go of my attachment to my own words.
From there to hospital again. A different one. And very different holy moments. I witnessed a son help his father go to heaven. More there, but can't write it now. I looked and remembered the night I helped my mother go to heaven. We are all so connected you know. You just have to pay attention.
All this is connected to a healing Mass I went to at St Mark's earlier this week. Monday I think. I wasn't planning to go there, but I thought I was running out of time and ended up there. So I received the annointing of my head and hands in healing...and I wept buckets...would God want to heal my broken body, or is it better to heal my heart? Yet what is given I knew I would pass along soon. And heavens, how that played out in the week!
I ask you again and every day to pay attention to your life. God is speaking in the still small voice and in the booming noise of everyday living. The connections are there. He's blessing you in every moment, with ever breath. He's asking you, "Do you love me?" over and over again...and He is waiting for your answer.
Love, Cindy
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