Discernment

Woke this morning to a beautiful Chopin Nocturne, one I haven't played in ages.  Felt so good to hear it again.  My dreams are vivid and forgotten this morning.  I was so sad because my usually willing friend was unwilling to hear my dreams this week.  I was hoping that, in talking with him, I might remember some of the others...for they have been many, and run for long periods of time it seems...but he is in a different place...and I need to pay attention...for change in definitely on the horizon. 
An unexpected consolation brought nothing but problems for me last evening. I tried to make myself discreet, but instead I felt like I must have picked Times Square...to be still with God. I must have had at least 10 "are you all rights?" I did my best to be polite, but I had no interest in leaving God's presence...which I had been ignoring for much too long.  When I finally decided to open my eyes, I saw the face of a friend, in his Knights of Columbus garb and he said to me, "That little girl was scared." I looked up to see a blonde girl, about 10 years old, looking worriedly at me.
I took her hand and tried to explain. "Some of us talk to God differently. Really I'm just fine. I'm sorry I scared you."  And she reached down and hugged me tightly around the neck.
I have no idea who she was.

I have mostly been quite careful to "monitor" my prayers and praying ways...but what happened during last night's Mass was so intense, I wanted to stay with it...and I was not able to make it all the way out of the sanctuary. I would have stayed in the pew, but I had chosen to sit with friends, who I knew would ask questions...and when my mind is in that state, it is difficult to think what to do.

What I do know is that, like a woman who is deeply in love with her husband, if he beckons her, she comes to Him without question, no matter what she is doing. It really isn't much of a choice, it is simply a knowing of where one belongs...it is not obedience really, but deep, deep love.

So now, instead of being discreet...I kind of blew it big time.  People will think I'm nuts for sure now. 
It's all about discernment. I think.  I joked about it...perhaps I need to run off to the monastery now...at least there, people will leave me alone when I'm praying....and not wonder...and heck, even if I was dying, they'd be able to see that it was a good thing...and just let me go...

And I wondered why it happened...at that moment in time...how was it triggered? (You see there is part of me that painfully longs for that first encounter with Him again.  The first time is always the best, but I must say...perhaps because so many years have passed since that first time...that these encounters now are equally satisfying...although one cannot speak to the outrageous joy of the first one...back then, the waves of it's memory would flood my mind at inappropriate times...and I would have such a hard time working at my duties.  So much so that I went to seminary...in hopes to discipline the passion and perhaps learn of a biological reason for an extraordinary encounter with God)

Enter the man who came to the door before I left for church.  I don't know why I answered the door.  Looking through the peep hole, he had a hat on, his head was down...and I felt a compassion...he looked like a man who needed something. A bit older than me...I just opened the door.  I was what I would call scantily clad in black, a shoestring top and exercise pants...because I don't like to run the AC too much, I was trying to stay cool. 
He was looking for work and said he wanted to look at my roof.  I said I had no hail damage, but I did have a leak around the fireplace. Short version: he fixed that and another spot for $50.  And he explained to me that, if I really wanted to sell my house, I needed to replace the roof...so I should pray for a hail storm.  He was very friendly and personable.  He kept touching my arm, my back...and then, I hope, accidentally brushed against my breast as he waved his hand...I gave him the benefit of the doubt and of course, blamed myself for the clothes I was wearing. (I should have thought it through, but I am old, gray and overweight...figured it would be more of an 'eewww' factor than a...different thought) at any rate, delighted that God sent someone to fix my roof...for just a little money...there was a giggle factor inside me...wondering again, am I meant for a man...or for God?  I began to rationalize in my head, I felt like change was inevitable in my other relationships...should I get out there...and try to live in the world?  Who knows.
So I arrive at church, relieved that the work was done and the guy didn't fall off the roof. I thought about my hospital visits yesterday, the conversations...while not as intense as Monday, women who never talked much were talking with me about important things. Things that concerned them. At best, with one I've been working with, she agreed to let me bring her a priest...in September.  I don't give up, you know. 
Mass went normally enough.The reading about Elijah taken up into heaven...was that what did it to me...taken up into heaven...yes, I have definite memories of that.  Or was it watching the women next to me?  The gospel?  Praying in secret. I'm thinking I'd have to hire a cleaning crew before I could pray in my own home, I have so much clutter....but how I loved to pray in the church alone.  Did that trigger it?  The deacon said something important, but I can't remember it now.  Then the Eucharistic prayer...and I was ashamed that I did not have my shawl...but I did not come for communion, I reminded myself. I had already gone to Mass that morning...

Then why are you here, Cindy?
Why, indeed. 

And there is was...a woman in love, a woman bound to her spouse in a way she will never fully understand...these people, this church...this oneness that takes on a life of its own...I looked at the faces, I knew some of their stories...I looked at the altar...thinking I'm here because this priest will be leaving soon to walk another path...and I'm going to miss the way he prays...

And God took me...and seemed to speak a resounding "NO!" into my head..."You are mine. I am yours. Do not let your thoughts wander to what you do not have. I am all you need. I complete you." And the physical sensation of love just took me down.  I tried to find a way of escaping the people who were around me, so I could focus on the One who called to me.

I failed in hiding. But the message seemed clear enough.
"You are mine. Don't look elsewhere. I complete you."

Now I have to go back to church and pretend like nothing ever happened.
And you know, perhaps nothing ever happened...

Love, Cindy