In Fear and Trembling

Kierkegaard wrote that book. I'm pretty sure I read part of it a while ago. It's in the stacks of books I have that pretty much dominate my house. Seems I remember he died drowning in his beer or something like that, but Wikipedia says differently.

I enter today with fear and trembling. Not is a bad way really, but it seems when I am not trying to demand God's presence, I am shaking when I find Him standing so very close to me. Such was the case Tuesday night.
[I have changed the names, just because not everyone wants to be as open as me]

Consider the thread that conspired to create a moment in time: A year ago, I found Paula, praying; and because of the way she was praying, I decided I needed to meet her and know her. We ended up becoming friends. We shared a retreat last summer that lit a fire under me to stop being so self-centered and just maybe to do something more than just lick my own wounds. Paula introduced me to Esther, who introduced me to the Missionaries of Charity, who work in downtown Dallas with the parish of St. James. I was reminded again of the poverty I witnessed when I lived in Tucson in the early 80s.
I began to say yes to everything that involved loving God more and bringing that love to others. In one of those activities, I met Mary's mother. Mary's mother told me that she loved what I was writing on this blog. She told me her daughter loved it, too. That her daughter was thinking about something...and I kept that in back of my mind. I decided to write more...and more honestly. If God can use me here for something better, then take it Lord, as use it. Use me any way you like.
So when I said I was going exploring, because I had a brilliant priest in my life who took me seriously, Fr. Jeremiah...who said,"Go and see." And when I decided to not be so private about my intentions, Mary asked to come with me. Of course, I said yes...in fear and trembling.
Both of us wanted to back out, but both of us did not want to let God down. Had we not shared the journey, the journey would never have happened. And we were both blessed beyond our imaginations. God was present and filled every single breath of what happened on those few days. Not a second was without an intense feeling of the presence of God. I cannot describe it properly...
But I think I have just a taste of what Peter saw at The Transfiguration in Matthew 17:
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, "Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents 5 here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, 6 then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him." When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Rise, and do not be afraid." And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone.

Neither of us wanted to leave. Not really. It was so very good to be there. So very right. So very perfect. The graces of God flowed from the river of the New Jerusalem...There is something better that I have for you, Jesus says, Come and see...

So Esther sends out an email to me and Paula about the relics of Mother Teresa. I have a meeting that night. No brainer, though, I won't go to the meeting. I choose the better part. Mother Teresa...a little woman of no account, a crushed reed she will not break, she will not grow faint...and she awakened the world to the possibility that, if we each do our part, our little part, then great things will happen for all of us. I had to go and see those things that she used to work the miracles that God asked her to work.

I ask Esther if I can bring Mary. She says yes.

And I am out of time almost. We go and it is wonderful. So much good in witnessing this. Oh, I have so much more to write and think about.

But for the moment...while we were watching and feeling close to God, someone else was watching and observing. Someone took a photo and I got to see it. There, standing at the altar, exactly where were supposed to me, Mary and me...and this bizarre journey in which God has sent us on a mission to find our place in this world...what Mary and I did not see, but an observer saw...we stood at the altar with Jesus. Right there between us. As we are trying to figure out what comes next, there was Jesus. At the altar with us.

I am leaving so very much out, but I fear that I will forget.

Oh hell, I'm never going to forget. But what it all means...only time will tell.

Let me never forget you, Lord. Let me never look at another human being without seeing you there. Let me be patient and willing to listen to each story that enters my life. Let me be fresh water to those who are thirsting for You. Let me receive Your graces to me with 'fear and trembling,' but with the ecstasy of that love You brought to me when You first ravished my heart so many years ago. You wound me, yet You heal me. I fall too often and forget what You have already given. Let me never forget that it is in giving that we receive. Let me not fail You, let me rely on Your strength alone. Help me to see what I cannot see. Help me to open my heart, even when I know it will break. For You are my greatest desire, my most perfect friend.

Love, Cindy

Covenant

I was reminded on Monday...which seems like a lifetime ago now...that I have been on this journey for a couple of years. I was reminded yesterday that I went on my first ACTS retreat July 16-19th of 2009. That means that while I was at St Scholastica, I was at a one year anniversary of a very important cleansing. Look what God has done for me in a year! It is almost too much to bear. And too wonderful. No one can look at God and live. True. Each time I look upon God I die. And I am reborn. It has been a very good year. Here is some of my poetry that I wrote over the last year. The one I was specifically looking for is the last one. Written on July 19th, 2009. (expletive deleted)

God really does love even me.
Enjoy if you wish. Pulled off my FB notes pages.
Love, Cindy
***************

I didn't think I really needed a muse, but apparently I do.

I am woman
I stand alone
Hoping today
I'll break open the stone
That tells me the secrets
Of where I have been
With compassion and truth
And with generous friends

I stand on the threshold
of something brand new
take a chance on a hunch
hoping to see it through

No time for reflection
No time to rehearse
Just dive in the deep end
For better or worse

Will it lead to success
or to something dramatic?
I can't predict anything
anti-climatic

I desire a muse
Different eyes that can see
All the pitfalls and problems
and possibilities

To lead me to places
I've been too cautious to go
To climb up the mountain
or dive down below

But I am a woman
And I stand alone
No one can help me
No one will dare
No one come near
Let the stranger beware

To think anything in this world
didn't start
with the help of the Great One's
creative heart
To think that I'm here
Because biology worked
is kind of like thinking
I too made the dirt
that created the plants
when life first began
that evolution might occur
by the thoughts of a man

I want to write something
Profound and complete
But I find that my words
only fall at my feet

Crawl back to the baseboards
and cabinet shelf
and leave me here standing
alone by myself

"I am woman!"
I cry out
"Pay attention to me!"
And He calls back gently
"Pay attention to Thee..."

sigh...probably misused the word...

love,cindy
October 18, 2009
yes the date matters today...
*********************************************
No I am not going to write about the full moon tonight. I am not going to write any more about the fall. I cannot imagine where my bag is. Perhaps I will dream about it.

Found an old journal: back in May, reading "Still Listening" by Guenther. June: "The Art of Christian Listening" and William James' "Pragmatism."

My notes: A secret ingredient--like the Noodle Dream in Kung Fu Panda. The secret ingredient is that there is no secret ingredient.[then a poem]

The Answer is Within You

Face into the mirror, what do you see?
I see a little girl looking back at me.
Face into the mirror
sometimes warped in ways
to see the befores and afters
of the choices in our days

Face into the mirror
look at our fronts and our backs
look for the things we desire but lack
Look up and down and inside and out
Find those things we'd be better without
Look at the things before us
and what lies behind too
Know what will help and what is just do-do

Face into the mirror and clean off the glass
Know the dirt that was there is part of the past
With clean vision before us
We know we can't fail
God's love is sufficient
and will forever prevail

Face into the mirror
See the creature you are
Know your own beauty
Let it shine like a star

Face the mirror, Stand tall
And take in that love
That God and I bring you
From heaven above.

---written for my granddaughter Trinity on Trinity Sunday 2009
Love, Nana
********************
Fire in the bread
No miracle perhaps
Just red wine in a gold cup
Reflected by the light
No miracle
The light of the room
Reflects the faces of people
Hungry to be made well

Tell me Jesus, tell me
Its gonna be alright
Tell me I'm gonna be alright
Tell me I'm going to get right
Believing and receiving
What you so willingly give
So that I can live

Fire in the bread
He kneels beside my bed
Places His hand upon my head
Cools the fever
Of all my rememberings
His fire quenches my fire
And the warmth of His fingers
Reach deep inside my brain
And tells me,"Be healed"
And I believe Him

Eyes meet mine
And I am not afraid
See who I am
Who I really am
And He tells me, "Yes, you are good.
Take on My fire
In this bread
And wine
In the Body
And Blood
Watch and
Learn and
Remember

Jesus kneels by the foot of my bed
And tells me to rest now
Today's work is done
And I did just fine.
He sings me a song,
I love you, Cindy
Hold fast to my love
I will never leave you
You make me smile...
____________________________

My goodness, what will the rest of the day bring?
Love, Cindy
***********************************
Published in 1992 in Forces Magazine (CCCC):

Patience and Persistence

With a single touch on the lovely white ivory
She finds herself beyond reality and submitting to instant peace
Black and white caresses her body
embraces her life
and makes complete
the thoughts that wander wantonly for a home--

She touches the heart of the keyboard
making it laugh or cry
only asking to be recognized by deaf ears
glaring in the darkness

A single candle turns white keys to soft yellow
asking not for payment except in the music
which might otherwise be neglected

Her hands are tired now, but still she plays
plays and listens and waits
for the music to set her free
________________________

[always seeking God, it seems, one way or another]

*********************************************
Sept 10, 2009
I placed my heart in a tomb
To protect it from all the pain
I kept it safe, I thought, not knowing
It was a tomb
Like Lazarus, I was dead to the world
Dead to everything

And Jesus came near and said
Be opened
Take away the stone
And Lazarus came out alive

My heart, hidden behind the stone
In the tomb
Has been called out
Be opened, my heart!
Live!

This one is not finished, but I felt I had to put it down anyway. Wrote it a few days ago.
Blessings,
Cindy
**************************
Mary Mother of God
August 15, 2009
1.
Mother most perfect
Never asking why
She pondered in her heart
Endured the worst
Taught the boy
Believed in him
Stood firm
Held him up
Let him go

And all I can do is hurt with her today
Frustrated by something as silly as lost keys
Embarrassed that I had to ask for help

Many stories surround her
This mother of God
This Theotokos
These bitter tears
This sea
We made her into a saint
When mother was her greatest and happiest role
She gave away everything
To ensure that something better might happen
That the world might rest
From all its restlessness

I weep for what she did
What she gave
Wondering if I was asked
Could I do the same?

Sweet Mary, rest well
We heard the message
And slowly we say yes
To the glorious impossible
Of the Incarnate Son
Who changed the world
Bringing light into the darkness
of our souls

Sweet Mary rest well
Your boy did his work
Because you did yours

2.

I asked you only moments ago
what do you require of me
How can I speak of this journey
without hurting someone I love
there is so much to say
but it needs love and care to be done well

You tell me calm down
you remind me
you fled to Elizabeth for safety
while Joseph had to learn and pray
to calm down
to not kill you and your child
as the Law allowed
You stayed with Elizabeth
Until it was safe to go home
when Joseph dreamed a dream
that told him Mercy over Law
was the right thing to do

Mercy over Law might save me, too
The writing I feel compelled to write
May arrive or not
But the journey
the struggle
that was necessary

the sign is the Sign
what you have asked for
you have received

Mary and Elizabeth
the names you gave your daughter
you knew those were the two strongest
the ones who believed
who initiated the change
that changed the world

Trust the waiting
Good fruit will come
in its time.
Written about 11 months ago ·
******************************
If you love Me-Tell Me that you do
Tell Me the truth or tell Me nothing at all
Masques are fine for human to human meetings
But give Me your All
Or give Me nothing
Hide even a little and my head turns away
I desire a pure heart
Not a perfect one, but pure
Give Me all of you
Or give Me nothing

I cannot give you anything
If you require bargain or compromise
I have pledged to be loyal to you
Now be loyal to Me
And you shall never feel wanting
Submit--bend--
Cut away all that keeps you from seeking Me
My gift to you is the best:
All of creation and more
With Me, you will not learn, you will know
And time, you will scorn:
a human invention to control each other
a unit of measure,
When the greatest gift is immeasurable.

I cannot give you half of perfection
I can only give it all --for it is not to be measured or
valued as you value things
It is your surrender, your submission to Me

When we become One, as I told you when I was here,
limiting myself so that you could see Me,
Feel Me,
Taste Me,
Remember Me---and forget Me--if you look away
I can't make you stay
That must be your heart's desire
Join Me and do not look back
Take all I have
It was always yours
Waiting, waiting , waiting...
...for you to come home.
With love to all,
Cindy
copyright August 2009

I'm a good person...really...

There is a fine line between narcissism and pedagogy, I think. At least there is for me this day. I recall being in an undergrad ancient philosophy class at UNT. I was bored with the class. When I get bored, I try to make what I am doing into a game. Working at Luby's Cafeteria, I used to draw pictures with my spoon in the creamed corn. In my Calculus class at TAMU, I used to catch and release flies to entertain the people sitting next to me in class. Every day, in my philosophy class, my professor would mention a paper he wrote back in 1973...every day he mentioned it. So my entertainment in that class was to 'time' him. I would record how much time would elapse each day before he would mention that paper. Some days, it would take him about 10 minutes to bring it up, other days, he might talk for 25 minutes before mentioning it.
One day, while primping in the bathroom, I mentioned to my much younger student companions in the class, who were complaining about how boring the class was, that I liked to 'time' our prof on that paper.
So, that day, in class, he begins his lecture...and then he mentions the paper. The two girls behind me burst out laughing...and I try to crawl under my seat, certain that my professor was fully aware it was me who started it.
It's not like I was trying to cause trouble. Like the day, in 6th grade, when I accidentally flooded the girls' bathroom. I just thought it would be interesting to plug up the drains in the floor, shove my thumb into the spigot with the water flowing full blast and watch the water hit the ceiling and drip to the floor. It wasn't like I was alone or anything. I had two co-conspirators with me. I was just curious...and it was jut water...right? And I was bored. Three days suspension for that one, but not on my permanent record. The principal saidI was an A student, top of my class...I was a good person...really.

I write this blog to help other people with their own challenges. I get enough feedback to know that my writing has made a difference, or helped others find out who they are. Maybe just a few people. But if you think about it, one person, changing his/her mind is enough. We can change the world, one person at a time, because one person might just be enough to save us all from damnation...oh, wait! Somebody already did that!
From Genesis 18:
But Abraham persisted, saying, "What if only forty are found there?" He replied, "I will forebear doing it for the sake of the forty." Then he said, "Let not my Lord grow impatient if I go on. What if only thirty are found there?" He replied, "I will forebear doing it if I can find but thirty there." Still he went on, "Since I have thus dared to speak to my Lord, what if there are no more than twenty?" "I will not destroy it," he answered, "for the sake of the twenty." But he still persisted: "Please, let not my Lord grow angry if I speak up this last time. What if there are at least ten there?" "For the sake of those ten," he replied, "I will not destroy it." The LORD departed as soon as he had finished speaking with Abraham, and Abraham returned home.
Ten good people could have saved a city. One 'person' saved all of us. The theme is played out over and over again.
And from Matthew 5, who tells us, if we are blessed, then we are required to be a blessing. We should not just give from our extravagance, we should give because we can give:
If anyone wants to go to law with you over your tunic, hand him your cloak as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, 26 go with him for two miles. Give to the one who asks of you, and do not turn your back on one who wants to borrow.
God wants us in relationship with Him and with each other. All the time. For He is merciful as we are merciful to each other.

But we really shouldn't brag about it. Today, I am caught between thoughts of doing the right thing, and then speaking about it. How exactly do we teach and share our good works in a way that teaches without, shall I say, drawing attention to ourselves?

It is a fine line: doing good works to glorify God vs. doing good works to glorify ourselves. And we don't always recognize when we have crossed the line. It was pointed out to me today, that even if I recognize that I have been self-centered or self-absorbed, sometimes the good works still get done just fine.

But in this case, some of the charm of what I did lost it's innocence in the telling. I paid a price for sharing, because the sharing was not about inspiring someone or teaching someone, but because I simply wanted it known.

Kilroy was here. Remember that, you old people? Jesus said those who give in public already have their reward. A plaque on the wall...or a building named after them. But the greatest gifts are done in secret.

But as we grow closer to God, God shows us our pride in ourselves and it is an ugly and painful thing to embrace. Living in humility is hard work. To live humbly, you have to first recognize that you have something to be proud of. And then, let it go.

Many days, I play the piano before Mass. Each time I play, someone new comes up to me and says thank you...with eyes and a voice that slays me. I never want anyone to tell me thank you for playing. I play for God. But then, if I am playing for God and God is in you, then I am playing for you, too. I can't imagine God saying thank you to me for a gift that He gave me in the first place. But I need to be polite.

I begged Fr Henry to ask a certain man to stop telling me thank you for the way that I read Scripture. He told me pretty much to get over myself and just say thank you. But what if I got to a place where I expected thanks? I see the dangers in sharing our gifts. But then, I think the dangers of not sharing our gifts is greater.

We need to always look at our motivations for our actions. Okay, I need to look at my motivation for my actions. Part of why I write here is that I know it makes a difference. Once I preached and someone who was simply thinking about committing suicide stopped thinking about doing it. She wrote me a note thanking me for what I said. Is telling you that bragging? Maybe. But that's not what I intend. I want those who bother to read my noise here that everything you do and say matters. It can change lives for the good as well as the bad. Strive to do the good.
If God lets you see the fruit of your labor, then thank Him. But don't think too much of yourself. If you do, you will become blind.

So pride, that lusty animal, always lurks in the dark unguarded areas of our psyche. It damages the gifts we share and it especially damages the way we love one another.

I've got a wedding to go to. I must stop here. But I've been writing this one all day and it will not leave me.

I will probably need to correct this one later...but let it be things to muse on anyway.

What gift are you hiding from the world? Why are you hiding it? Is it pride that keeps you from trying? Is it the fear of success that scares you? Are you hoarding your talents for 'just the right' day?

Give now, love now, say yes now.
You are a good person...really...

Love, Cindy

Too much woman

I hit a spiritual wall last night. I looked around my life here in this place and asked myself, "What am I doing here?" And then I woke this morning with the thought, "What were you thinking?" In the span of less than 12 hours, I flew from one end of the spiritual spectrum to the other. There is no way to explain when it started or why it started. It's just all part of this bizarre journey that seems to be my life, sometimes riding bareback with God and sometimes hanging upside down from a tree. But always, always, always wanting more.
Nephesh. The Hebrew word for hunger. Bill Power described it as newborn chicks in a nest, with their scrawny little heads looking upward with their mouths open, telling their mother, "Feed me!" Dr. Power told us that was the way we seek God. We are so hungry for Him...and me, I think I am hungrier than anyone else.
But of course, that is not true. I am simply aware of my hunger. I desire God's love even more than I desire life. Sounds a bit extreme...even to me.

In the background, I hear the morning birds waking and singing while they sit on my roof. On my little radio,, right now, is an old Phil Collins song:

"I can feel it coming in the air tonight
Ive been waiting for this moment all of my life."

And I remember the classic 80s movie it was in, "Risky Business."

Just dare to tell me that God doesn't have a sense of humor. There are connections I could make for you here that are probably not for the undisciplined heart...but I am convinced that everything of our life is a connection to God...even the most outrageous things. Nothing can separate us from God.

Except one thing: We can walk away. The 32nd psalm, I don't want to look up the Hebrew right now, but, in this psalm, there are three different words to describe sin: turning away, missing the mark and I think the third is outright rebellion.

The only unforgivable sin is denying the Holy Spirit. Of course it is unforgivable. If you deny the Spirit, then there is nothing to save from this earthly realm. Deny it and 'here' is all you have.

In the past 48 hours or so, I have been in connection with intense things. I wondered why I was so exhausted last night...truly too exhausted to even offer the simplest words to God in prayer. All I could see and feel was my own fear, and I was too tired to even realize that that was indeed the prayer I needed to give Him last night. I kind of gave it to Him indirectly, through an intermediary, who knows how to hear. I trusted that. But even that is a risk. What I give to God is not always appropriate for another human heart, unless the heart is very very strong. But then, as I leaned into God a bit more, the dam broke in my heart and in the privacy of the chapel, I let the blood and water of my heart pour out and allowed the blood and water of His Heart to come in. I wept and told Him what I thought was the truth, but it was not the truth. But as I let it out, He showed me the truth. My truth. And I felt relieved that I had been deceived by the One who would rather have me so far away from Him.

These words are residue from two meetings I had recently with intense women. Powerful women. Weak women. Hungry women. I don't know if I can properly write about it. I had asked God to continue to 'purge me with hyssop,' that I might be a better servant to Him. I have been praying for some time about women. About there role in my life and my role in their lives.

And God brings me two women, in exactly the right order, to teach me more.

I have been told by many of the men in my life (and let me be clear, most of them were from a LONG LONG time ago)that I was just too much woman. They were attracted to my intensity and strength, but ultimately, they could never keep up with me. No matter where we went, I was always pushing to live just a bit more. I have never been completely satisfied with them, God bless them! Why only live half way when God wants us to have it all? I kept thinking that they would "finish me," that they would "complete" me. But they never did.

Only God can complete me. Only God can satisfy me. Only God knows where are the broken parts are and only God can fill them. Took me a very long time to figure that out. Only God is the moment I have waited for all of my life. Hungry as I am, He has enough food to feed me. He has enough food for all of us.

These women, two very different women. Brought their stories to me. One was very direct, the other took the long way around. The first wept for about an hour, telling me how much she loved God, while she spoke again of a sin that is probably the one I can tolerate the very least: infidelity. It is the one I hear most often, from both men and women. We get so confused about love. We have such a hard time understanding what it is and what it is not.

I got a massage yesterday (my wonderful extravagance) and the man and I talked afterward. I mentioned a bit about what happened earlier and there he was, telling me how he fell from grace. I went into a little summary of the Gospel of John, explaining to him how I understood what love is...and thinking on another track, oh my, I'm not going to remember this later, but it is right...love is explained in John. Perfectly.

The conversation with the first woman ended in prayer. I tried to get her to a priest for confession. She told me she was not Catholic. I asked, then why are you here? She replied, Because here is where God is.

Yeah, that's why I'm here too. I looked over at my shoes and socks on the floor next to the wall. I looked at my open purse and open prayer book also on the floor. You see, the woman's weeping, pulled me out of my prayer space and into hers. She was distraught. She was hungry. I got to be a vessel for Him. Go, God! I thought I had been called to church that night to pray. I was...only not as I expected. Never is you know. He brings you in, but you never know what He will do. You just have to be open.

So we pray. When she tells me she is not Catholic, I try another tactic. I tell her I used to be a Methodist minister. She likes that. Go ahead, get curious, I think. You are here for a reason. But I pray with her, and I hear the same thing I hear from everybody else when I pray.

"That was amazing. You really pray well." And I can never understand why they tell me that. I just try to listen to what they say, and hear what I think they need. And then I just tell God. "You used to be a Methodist minister." "Yep." Go ahead, ask me. Ask me why I am here. But she doesn't. She hugs me tightly, thanks me and I whisper in her ear: "Don't sin anymore. And don't answer the phone." I feel my face against the hair on her head and I have to hug her just a tad longer, because I cannot believe I said what I did. A woman I've never met before. A woman I'll probably never see again.

She hasn't made the connection, I think. She still can't see. But she feels better now. Less hungry. And that's a good thing.

The story about the second woman will have to wait. Time to get going.

Keep your ears open. God is calling you. He wants you to help. God wants to love you...all over again.

Love, Cindy

I Close My Eyes

I close my eyes
And you are there
Right where you are supposed to be
And all the things I forgot to say get said
All the things I forgot to do are forgiven
The sea calms
And I am once again confident
That I can walk upright
Even though I am climbing a mountain
And the wind is blowing
And rain is imminent
Still the light remains
The hand is outstretched
I reach for it
And I find you
Waiting for me to finish my prayers

Love, Cindy

My Side of the Mountain

"So you are going to be a nun?" the parent of one of my ex-geometry students asked me. I put up my hand, as I glanced out of the corner of my eye my priest, who when I returned from my recent 'pilgrimage,' seemed to be a bit surprised that I really meant to do what I told him I intended to do...just about a year ago, I think. I'm thinking maybe he needs more time to get used to it, but frankly, I need more time to get used to it, too. Talking about something is a whole lot different than doing something.

Entering seminary was a lot like that. Only no one in the Methodist Church seemed surprised, except Keith, who was the primary reason I decided to go. Odd how mentors walk with us and support us, but sometimes have their own ideas about who we should be. But at that time, I was surprised that SMU would even consider me. I was surprised when I wrote my letter of resignation to the college, walking away from very good job as an instructional associate. I was surprised when I didn't flunk out of seminary. I was surprised when my paper was published. I was surprised when I had several job offers. I was surprised when I passed the initial tests and review boards. I expected to fail. I didn't. I had to force that to happen.

But that was because, I knew in my heart, I was not where I was supposed to be. This time, though, is different. I have no doubt in my mind. I am finally doing what I said I would do.

When you find that one perfect thing, that pearl of great price, and you know you must sell everything you have in order to get it...you do it and you do it with joy.

It just took me 40 years to realize what I knew from the time I was born what I had to do. And if I succeed or fail, it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that I stay true to my quest. My impossible dream. And right now, I think that includes trying to be a nun.

Sister said "Give it a year. You can give it a year. Then decide." And oh, if they will let me give them a year...what gifts might I find that I can give and receive during that time! Even if I fail, I will not have failed. And if I can have the courage and stamina to write, then just maybe...someone else will try...and maybe find that this is her life waiting for her, or his life waiting for him...and that will be return enough...or not. I must stay true to who I am. As you must do.

"Amy, what you wanna do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do
I keep falling in and out of love with you
Falling in and out of love with you
Don't know what I'm gonna do
I just keep falling in and out of love with you"
Pure Prairie League on the radio

The trouble is, I have never fallen out of love with God. But I have searched long and hard for substitutes, which satisfy for a time, but never long enough. Now that I am old with gray hair, I can see that God never really planned for me to love anyone as much as I love Him.

I'm not going to claim that this life is for everyone, but it seems to suit me. And if God wills it, I will succeed. And if God wills something else, I will accept that with joy also.

This is my side of the mountain. As I make my way back to Him, this is my path. Sometimes I'll get to share it with others and sometimes I'll walk alone, but I hope I am done with trying to walk someone else's path. I am high on the sheer joy of waking up to my own place in this world. Odd as it is, it belongs to me.

Now as to the Steinway that entered my life a couple of days ago. I know pianos. I have played as many as I can find. I have ventured into doors that were supposed to be locked and tried them out. I have played on stage when no one was around and I have played on stage to screaming college students...and no, I am not ready to open up that story...for a long LONG time. But when I stumble on something of beauty, I am captivated by it.
Such was the Steinway this last week. I am coveting it. I want to know it and I want it to know me. It has a color unlike any I have heard in a long long time...and it has stirred up feelings I thought were dead. I long to hear it sing and I long to make it sing. I remember a person who I thought I was, and I remember what I knew I would have to give up were I to follow that dream...and I knew it was just to much to give up. I had made commitments and people were depending on me. What I could have done then, what I might have been...sits in a mist that I thought was dead. Now I wonder, what God intends to show me by waking up this dream again.

When I play, the beast in me calms. When I play, the beast in my neighbor calms. It is an expression of prayer that transcends our words and reaches to God in a direct line precisely because it does not have to be filtered through speech.
I recall the Brahms again, when I realized I had played it perfectly, I was stunned by its beauty. And it almost killed me.

Such is the feeling of a miracle. You do what God asks you and He decides to let you see it fulfilled. He shows you the other side of the mountain. He shows you, in fleeting moments, how good things can be when we just rest in Him and let Him take us through the storm. It is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Truly it is the joy of a young bride in anticipation of bringing new life into the world.

Or an old one: (from today's reading from Genesis)
They asked Abraham, "Where is your wife Sarah?"
He replied, "There in the tent."
One of them said, "I will surely return to you about this time next year,
and Sarah will then have a son."

Give Him your best and He will give you His best.

I'm going to stop here for now. I need to pray.

Love, Cindy

Change is good...You go first!

I will try to write a few words about what has happened in the last few days. It is so hard to do, because it all seemed so perfect, so very much like I have finally come home to Him.
I feel like the prodigal daughter, still practically clueless, but having a hunger so great and overpowering that it is dragging me in my weakness to my only real home, the one from whence I came and the one where I always knew I would have to return someday.
Augustine wrote something like, "Oh, Lord, save me...but not right now!"
I feel like all the pieces of my life are falling into place, all them beginning at last to make sense...and the idea that God would want me after all these years of denying Him and defying Him...and that He would allow me to manifest my love for Him withing the walls of the Catholic Church...the joy of this knowledge is almost too much to bear...
And almost too scary to write down.

You see, it is almost always true that when we tell our secrets, much of the magic of them goes away. Some of their power of them over us leaves them.

From The Princess Bride:
"I must know your name!" "Get used to disappointment."

From Viktor Frankl:
Not a quote, but a summation: Suffering, once it has a name, ceases to be suffering."

From Exodus 3:
"But," said Moses to God, "when I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' if they ask me, 'What is his name?' what am I to tell them?" God replied, "I am who am." Then he added, "This is what you shall tell the Israelites: I AM sent me to you." God spoke further to Moses, "Thus shall you say to the Israelites: The LORD, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, has sent me to you. "This is my name forever; this is my title for all generations.

There is power, both good and bad, in the revealing of secrets. Ultimately, when we reveal our secrets, we discover our truth and God's truth and how those two things weave together to make us who we are. And each time we tell our truth, we discover God's truth and we are set more free from the chains that keep us from our Divinely Loving Creator.

We tell our story. Over and over again. Until we get it right. Then we know the truth in our hearts. And we are free.

I kind of think that is the way of confession. Some of us confess the same sins over and over and over. I am thinking that perhaps that is because we are still fearful of telling our truth. We tell part of our truth, thinking that is enough...but it never is. We have to tell the truth...otherwise, our sin, if it really is a sin, still has power over us. Sometimes, as we tell our truth, we discover that we have not sinned, but we have thought that we have sinned, because we choose to tell ourselves only part of our truth. It works both ways. We hide ourselves from knowing our true sins, or we can condemn ourselves because it is easier than facing something good about ourselves.

Sr. Maria indirectly asked me an important question this weekend: "What gift are you hiding from us?" Oh hell, I thought, she went right for my heart! And how wise and wonderful she is to know, perhaps on faith alone, that I needed to be challenged in that way...or perhaps she did not have a clue...but I doubt that.

"What gift are you hiding from us?" What do you have inside you that you ultimately know is a treasure that needs to be shared? What are you afraid of exposing to the light in great fear, that, if exposed to the light, might not really be a treasure at all...just an illusion. Or worse, if you truly have a gift, and someone else sees it, then you would be demanded by God to share it.

A small passage of The Little Prince: He goes to a planet where there lives only one man. This man is very proud. When he sees the Little Prince, he says to himself, "Here comes someone to honor me." And he asks the Little Prince, "Do you not think I am the most wonderful man on this planet?" and the Little Prince replies, "You are the only man on this planet!" "Well," says the man, "still, you must tell me I am the most wonderful man on this planet." The Little Prince replies sadly, "You are the most wonderful man on this planet."

Or something like that. The point being, yes, it is a truth...but it is not the truth. And I think we are all searching for truth. We will know the truth when we find it...and when we do, we will no longer have any questions.

So I have this truth, which may or may not be the truth. I think I have found my real home. I have fought it with a bunch of other truths that we not really truths.
I have written again and again that I talk to the moon. I talk to God all day long, every minute of every day. I feel desperately sad and lonely when I am not in conversation with Him. And I think I have found a place to be where that way of living will not be considered strange. And I think I have found a place where I can continue to write and share all I can in such a way, that those who might want to find God at this level might find my words a bit helpful as they struggle on their own path to their own truths.

God has given me everything I have asked for. And I think I have asked for some hard things. I am still stunned by how He has answered my prayers. And I am stunned by how He has used me to help others. I would like to tell you about yesterday, but it is too soon...I need the people involved to forget that they were involved and that way I have not invaded their privacy. But I can tell you that for each of us, God is working a huge billion piece puzzle that for me, is starting to make sense.

And He has given me the most precious gifts in human beings who have their eyes open to the possibility of something new and good and wonderful...and I am humbled that they are willing to give some of their life to me to help me along my way. And I am so very drawn to give my life to them in very much the same way.

My vow is to You, my Sweet Lord. Complete me, then use me up. Let me be a source of joy to those who seek joy and a source of truth to those who seek truth. Let me never assume to know Your Plan, let me move through this life both freely and blindly, seeing only what You want me to see, being Your Hands of healing, Your Eyes of acceptance, Your ears of compassion, Your Heart of unceasing and unconditional love. Let me disappear into You. Only there will I find who I am and who you created me to be. Thank you for my life. Thank You for my life. Thank You for waking me to Your love.

Love, Cindy