Monday, October 30, 2006

My dear God,

After a very hectic, long week of work with four nights of meetings, two nights home at 11:30 p.m. I was simply too tired to go into work. So I stayed at home to rest.

A few weeks ago I purchased a video entitled, "Five People You Meet in Heaven". I had read the book and loved it. So I lay in bed watching the movie. "I was in your life for a reason," the characters told Eddie. Five people visited Eddie following his death. They helped him discover the purpose of his life.

At the end I wept. (I'm a sucker for an emotional film) But I wept because I really believe that God has a purpose for each person. Eddie figured his out. I thought of my own life and some of the ways I am trying to live out my purpose in life.

I thought back to my dance that I offered to God just a few days ago. Moving freely and joyfully to the song taken from Psalm 42, I was telling God that like the psalmist, "my soul longs for thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God..." At that moment, those four minutes that I danced, I do believe I was living my purpose just as God intended. For I know that my life's greatest purpose is to love God. I can do that many ways. When I am loving God through dancing, prayer, ministry, counselling, or just caring for people, I am in my greatest joy. I feel the fulfillment of my purpose and the whole of me is filled with joy and gratitude.

Who will my five people be?

To love you
is to experience ecstasy,
fulfillment
and joy.
To know my purpose
is a gift,
a blessing.
To be open to the ways
of living my purpose
is to live in anticipation,
an expectancy
because
I know that you lead me
to my purpose daily.
You show me new ways
to love you,
to live my purpose
in the world.
I am blessed,
so incredibly blessed;
for I know
that no situation or condition,
no happening,
no sorrow or darkness
can stop me from my purpose.
Even death
cannot take away my purpose
for my purpose is God's plan
for me.
Together,
we live together,
you and I,
sharing in the great cosmos
your love for all of us
and my love for you,
a purpose
daily being fulfilled,
my life's greatest joy.

Eternally grateful, Andrea

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Dearest God,

I knew when I awakened that today would be an enormously full day. Two worship services, my Journey with God dinner and party for 90 after church and a surprise birthday party for Harold's 71st in the evening with 37 guests. I was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. But as God would have it, I felt joy replacing my anxiety as I drove to church, giving my sermon aloud in the car (a weekly tradition).

As I moved from behind the pulpit, I felt God's spirit moving me to preach. I felt a power surge through my veins as I talked about Paul and the Thessalonians, of God and Bethel Church, of the Spirit and me, each of us. I spoke about a living faith, what it means to be a Good News person, and making a commitment to change the world. God's Spirit seemed so present.

As I greeted my flock with hugs and handshakes, I enjoyed listening to personal concerns, celebrations, and even looking at a loose tooth ready to come out. I love those I serve, for they are who God has sent me to share my life, my faith and ministry.

And then I moved quickly to my office where I changed my clothing, dressing in my green purple and black African dress and headdress. I remembered the woman who made it and the woman who came to alter it just hours before I left Africa. I loved wearing it.

When I climbed the stairs to the Upper Room, it was filled with chatting, happy people, some looking at my artifacts and going through my pictures, others talking around the tables. When all was ready, I prayed and the food was served by hosts and hostesses adorned in African clothing as well.

I made a toast as we each held high our champagne glasses filled with sparkling grape juice. "To God..." as we clinked our plastic cups together. A hum could be heard round the room as persons fellowshipped with one another as we dined on spaghetti, Italian bread and herbed oils, salad and Tiramisu. African music softly played in the background.

And then it was time for the program to begin. The children left with the caregivers and I spoke just a few words about the Lilly Clergy Renewal Grant before playing the video entitled, Journey with God, A Journal of Travels Encountering God Recorded in Photographs by Andrea Leininger. I sat down on a carpeted wooden box a few feet from the television. I clicked on the video and my life, my renewal, my relationship with God unfolded just as I lived it a year ago. And then the dance of my journey, my love offering to God, began to play. And I felt so full, full of God's spirit stirring within me. Although the people clapped, I felt an Amen in my soul.

Then one after another stood to speak, first my daughters Jenni and Jill, then my covenant group Bill and Cindy, finally my husband Harold. Their words were heartfelt. My daughter Jenni, terrified to stand before a group, said the most beautiful words as she concluded her presentation, "...I'm sure God is smiling today and doing his own dance for you." Each one touched my heart, capturing their own experiences with God and their reflections on my own journey. What a time together with the Spirit of the Living God.

Later in the day Harold was quite surprised as we entered the restaurant to surprise him on his birthday.

As the day drew to a close, I knew that I had been in the presence of God all day long. I had known his love and joy.

You are everything,
dearest God.
You are all that is,
every joy and goodness.
I am incredibly blessed,
your Spirit has dwelled
within me,
speaking, rejoicing, praising.
And I am in awe,
so in love
with the God of the Universe.
May my life always bless you,
my Redeeming God;
may my heart
always beat to your rhythm;
may my love
always be sincere;
may my soul
always whisper its deepest longings;
and may my joy
always be for you.

Love always, Andrea

Saturday, October 28, 2006

My dearest God,

This morning I packed my sacred dance clothing into a bag. I helped my five and six year old granddaughters get dressed, then the three of us left for the church. Today is the day I complete the video of my renewal. I will dance in the chancel, before the altar. My gratitude to God for the gracious gift of a renewal leave grant.

As we moved the furniture from the area, I began to feel a little nervous. How would I dance? Would I be free as I danced before God? Anxious? Afraid? I had purposefully decided not to choreograph the dance. This would be my offering to God and there are no rehearsals for an offering. It is a simple gift from the heart, coming from deep down in the soul. How would I feel?

When the chairs, lectern and pulpit were moved, I took my place, a few paces from the steps leading to the altar. I had planned this time when no one would be at the church except my videographer and two granddaughters who "wanted to watch Grandma dance." Just as I was getting ready, I heard two women talking. Wanting to practice their handbells, they thought the way I did. No one around. I felt awkward standing there dressed in white. But they were generous and went to the choir room where they would hold off their practice while I danced, assuring us that there would be no sound except for the song "As the deer" played.

Again I moved to the chancel area. I took some deep cleansing breaths and prayed. Then I asked the videographer to play the song once through for me so I could allow the music to enter my soul, thereby preparing me to move when I was ready. When I heard the first notes, my soul opened wide, drinking in the spirit music. Tears filled my eyes as I felt such love for God. When the song ended, I drew in a breath, then offered myself to God. In a few moments I gave a cue to play the music.

Linda took a still shot of me, then started the music. And I began to move. Peace lead me to lift my arms, my praise to God. I was light as a feather. I felt no hindrances, no obstacles. I was so ready to dance for my God, to say thank you for blessing my life in so many ways. I felt such joy, such openness. I turned and twirled, lifting my arms again and again. Ceremonially stepping up to the altar, I felt more free than I have ever felt in my life. I moved flawlessly, my every gesture fluid and filled with purpose, to love my Creator. I was so at one with God. I felt as if I was already in heaven dancing with God and the saints. Every fibre of my being was joy filled. And as the music was coming to an end, I took steps to bow, to kneel before the altar, to raise my arms slowly, reverently to honor my Lord.

I walked slowly to the back of the sanctuary, still feeling the music in my soul, the love in my heart. Linda replayed the dance and I saw myself, my act of devotion. And this time the tears streamed down my face. I had done what I had come to do. And I was beautiful as I danced, not because I was arrogant but because when a person makes an offering to God, there is a beauty, a spiritual beauty that shines through and I could see it in me.

Magnificent God,
I have never loved you more
than today.
I felt my heart swell with joy,
gratitude that comes deep from within.
I wanted to give you my gift.
I did not worry
that I was 60
and gray.
Our time together
knew no bounds.
Love was present,
pure, unadulterated love.
Mystery,
sacred mystery
unfolded.
I could never
have choreographed my dance
and offered
what I wanted to give.
My dance was about trust,
trust in God to move me
in ways of the Divine.
And oh,
how I felt it.
Your hands sculpting
my every move.
Ecstacy.

My love overflows, Andrea

Friday, October 27, 2006

Dearest God,

I awakened this morning with so much on my mind. I got up, did a few chores, showered, put on my clothes and left before sunrise. Driving along 1000N I went over in my mind everything I needed to do today. Then I got in a traffic jam. A construction zone, I was blocked in, I couldn't move. I knew I would be late for the mandatory health screening. Oh well, I told myself, there was nothing I could do, except get stressed and I did.

I arrived about ten minutes late and walked the maze through the church to find the room where professionals waited to take my blood pressure, measure my height, weight, and body fat, then do a blood sugar and some other tests. The young man who assisted me was very nice. He talked, while things ran through my head.

When the results came in, he spent a long time with me. Because I had already established a health plan for myself in cooperation with my doctor, he gave me brochures on all sorts of things like a low sodium diet, cholesterol, heart disease, and exercise. I must have picked up 12 pamplets describing healthy habits. When I left the room, I returned to my many concerns.

I had only taken a few steps, really just turned a couple corners, when a brightly colored stained glass wall caught my eye. I stopped, intrigued, drawn into this magnificent display of "creation."
I stood for several minutes, allowing the symbols to speak beyond my worries and anxieties.

The Spirit lifted out those spiritual figures that began to communicate with me, the dancing woman, the mother holding her child, the deer drinking in the stream, the multi-color cross leaning sideways toward the light.

But it was the central figure that caught my eye. Representing the light, the white lines moving in all directions spoke something else to me. I could see Lazarus, the Biblical man who had died before Jesus could reach him. Bound up in grave clothes, Jesus had ordered him to rise although he had been dead for three days. I could see the white strips of cloth coming apart, opening up, every fiber unwrapping the man, freeing him from his death sentence. They were flying off in every direction, light flowing through, true freedom, a second chance, life. I could have stayed a long time, reveling in the beauty of a life made new. But then my concerns emerged once again and I turned to leave.

Just before I left the church, I passed a room where a cloth labyrinth lay on the floor. I stopped in my tracks. Was God speaking powerfully to me this morning? Did God have some words for me in the early hours of the day? Did God want to stop me long enough to listen? I walked into the room, put down my purse and coat and walked to the entrance. I stood a few moments, thinking of my assistant waiting for me at the church, the calls I needed to make, the work I had to do.

A peace came over me as I stepped into the maze leading to a holy center. I walked, pacing myself, leaning in toward the spirit. Just before I stepped into the center, I paused, thinking about the meaning of standing with God, breathing the air of the Sacred. Drawing in a breath, I took the final steps. I prayed. Then I listened. Smiling, a peace holding me, I moved away. And my voice began to sing. "I love you, Lord, and I lift my voice. To worship you, O my soul rejoice. Take joy, my King, in what I bring. May it be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear." I lifted my voice to my Shepherd, the one who had called me out early in the morning. Giving me helpful hints to care for my body, mind, and spirit, speaking to the deeper parts of my being, giving me opportunity to join God in the walk of life. As I moved outward to depart, I paused to give thanks.

You catch me
by surprise sometimes,
Loving God.
You always have your eye on me.
I cannot escape your presence.
When I am harried,
worried or stressed,
you speak to me.
"My child,
my precious child,
I am here."
You get my attention
by inviting me
to pause with you,
to reflect
upon the sacredness of human life.
You remind me
that there is more to life
than that which I do.
It is who I am
and who I am with.

Love always, Andrea

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Dearest God,

I awakened earlier than usual. So I got up and started writing some letters. One to a grandson who has become discouraged in his first year of college. One to my granddaughter who broke her neck but now is doing much better following two critical surgeries. And one to her mother.

I always become a bit melancholy when I write those I never see. I wish, I dream, I pray, asking for God to work his miracle wonders. I say to myself I have done all I can do. I have to leave room for God to do greater work, way beyond anything I am able to achieve. I can only open my heart to trust in God.

Yesterday a man stopped in to see me at my office. One of the missionaries who went to Mississippi to help with the Hurricane Katrina disaster, he just wanted to talk about his spiritual encounter that remains deep within him. He knows what happened in Mississippi was much more than 50 people helping victims rebuild their homes. He entered a space made holy by God himself. "Once you taste it," I told him, "you will want more."

He is mystified. What does it mean? What do I do about it? What happens now? Questions arising from deeper places always mean that God is present, working, stirring, speaking. Yet, it can be unsettling. Suddenly the "clothes" you wore before the encounter no longer fit. Something feels wrong, but also so right.

I smiled as he spoke. I listened. I know what he is going through and I celebrate. He knows it is not about what you do as much as it is about who you are. So, who am I, he may be asking. Indeed, who is he now? What is he about? What is he becoming?

When I think of the vast number of experiences in human life, I imagine how they are intended to change us. The process of reshaping is always a bewildering one. The ground beneath us seems to be shifting and we're afraid of falling. We can feel fear, unsure of ourselves. But this is fertile ground of growth, one in which God takes great interest.

While I revel in God's work in my life, I also know well how the journey can unfold. My beliefs, thoughts, attitudes, and behaviors can begin to change, leaving me in an unfamiliar world. Nothing looks the same. And that's because it isn't. Our eyes see something different. We don't hear the same old words anymore; a new language begins to develop. And I am thrust in the new world awaiting me.

I don't know the plans of God. But I do know the hands that hold the plan and me in it.

I am not troubled
when I know
you are near me.
Sights and sounds of God
reveal themselves
and suddenly
I realize
I am in a holy world,
one that God has shaped,
not me.
Even in times of melancholy,
I can hear the music of the spheres,
God is singing,
lullabies of the soul.

I love you, Andrea

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Dearest God,

The angel of truth drew her in the dark hours of the morning. By nightfall the truth had set her free.

A person had come to church to confess, to cleanse the soul. Carrying a burden far too long, tonite she let it all out, holding nothing back. And we listened. And accepted.

But truth, however long held when spoken, leaves a hole in the spirit. And so we lit a candle. Holy smoke rose into the air, carrying away the ugly secret that could no longer hold a freed spirit captive. Released, its powerful sting dissipated, a new soul was born.

We took one another's hands and we prayed. God revealed, transformation alive.

You are the remover of dark secrets,
Holy Father.
You remove the blemishes from our souls,
disclosing to us
the truth,
the beautiful truth
that sets us free.
Every hidden corner
is uncovered,
the light of your spirit
shines into the darkness.
And the cry of a newborn baby
can be heard
in the universe.
And we fall prostrate before you,
yielding our control
willingly,
happily.
Renewed.

Gratefully yours, Andrea

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Dear God,

Yesterday my doctor told me my calcium levels were perfect. "We are on the right road." He said. "You have had a hard six months but we're getting there." He was referring to my blood pressure and calcium problems. I didn't quite know how to respond.

Several months ago my health took a rapid decline. I felt profound weakness, such that it seemed a long way from my bed to the bathroom. I got so winded when I stood up and walked very far. I was sure I was going to die unless someone could figure out what was happening. I called several people, asking them to help me find an excellent internist, one doctor who would look at the whole of me and explore my situation to find some answers. I found him.

At first my doctor never smiled. He was very professional, a worry line forming on his brow each time I came for a visit. He described my situation as serious and kept a very close monitor on me. My spiking blood pressure would be near stroke level, a couple or three times already in the range. I was rushed to the hospital where doctors took great care with a slow intravenous injection to bring it down.

My calcium troubles stemmed from the "accidental" removal of my parathyroid. Trying to keep my calcium levels in the normal range is extremely difficult, my doctor told me. Sometimes it is too high, other times too low. When it moves beyond the normal limits, my heart doesn't like it. I can go into arrhythmia; worse yet, my heart can stop.

I've had so many blood tests in the last six months; I'm surprised I've got any blood left. But it's vitally important I be obsessive about my health, he told me. Regular checkups, blood levels monitored, taking medicine and a lot of it daily are all part of my normal routine now.

Today my doctor smiled.

There have been moments
when I feared,
dear God.
There are still some.
My cancer taught me
that life is fragile.
The human body
is an incredible machine;
but it has its limits.
The delicate balances
keep us alive.
Too far off
and you die.
I never feared eternity;
it was watching my body
disintegrate
and feeling
out of control.
I was thrust into your arms
each time I grew ill.
The meditation techniques
I learned through the years
worked to give me
calm,
a sense of serenity.
It always lead me to you.
I was never alone.
Those solo moments
when I realize
I am alone
in my dysfunctioning body,
I trust wholly in you.
I stand perfectly still,
then fall backward
into your arms.
You caught me every time.

Eternally grateful, Andrea

Monday, October 23, 2006

My dearest God,

In the darkness
of the early morning,
I crept downstairs
to write.
I turned on the Be Still and Know tape
and I listened.
Your presence
filled every crevice
of the room.
I sensed Your awesome spirit
and the cluttered basement
became a sanctuary.
The music played.
And my soul sang,
danced to the Living Spirit.
A deep well,
an even deeper spirit
was revealed.
The truth of myself
was revealed,
a child whose love for God
is deep, abiding.
A transformation springs forth
when a human creature
meets the Divine
and knows it,
acknowledges it.
Beauty radiates
just as God would have it.
When a child
ceases to have her own way
and seeks God alone,
something sparks in the universe.
A new star is birthed,
a new light shines
and it is God,
eternity
that lights up the sky.
Is there no greater joy
to God
than seeking the light of his face?

Love always, Andrea

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Dear God,

Oh my goodness! What I saw on Sunday morning is not what I observed on Saturday night! When I walked into the church on Saturday night, all I could see was new flooring with specks all over it. I disliked it very much! But on Sunday morning what I viewed was white tile with specks, a very nice flooring indeed. I liked it very much.

Which brings me to my question. Why was the flooring so objectionable last night? Why was it so distasteful? Were my eyes clouded over? Did I miss something? Was I colored in my thinking? I don't know the answer to my questions.

Was it my pride? Was there something deeper at stake in my soul? Was I afraid of being judged, criticized? I mean it was just tile!

Perhaps I suffered from a temporary blindness. Something hidden from me. But why? Why was I so worried? Where was my trust? Did I check it at the front door as I entered?

How many other times have I languished over nonsensical situations, conditions? My lack of confidence in God, in myself or others leaving me feeling vulnerable, afraid? Who do I fear? What is the source of my dismay?

Such times give me pause to reflect upon my eternal life with God. When I boil things down, what is left I ask myself. Is trust the final leaving? Do I ultimately trust all things, yes ALL things into God's hands? Do I believe God has a solution for every problem? Do I espouse the belief that God is in all things, nothing withstanding?

I do not want parts of my life severed from other parts. This part I trust with God; this I do not. I do not want to be unwhole. I want every fibre of my being to trust in God. No matter the cost, the sacrifice or the situation.

I realize that at times I am out of touch with God. I simply am not on the same wave length. I do not think about God in every situation. I am on my own in those moments when I become afraid or lose courage. I trust in myself only, my own resources, beliefs or opinions. I lose touch because I become my own god. My views of life are shortsighted. I see only portions of the truth. Like the scripture says, "I see only through a mirror dimly, but then with God I will see face to face. I will see all, the whole truth when I trust wholly in God.

My silly feelings about a new flooring at the church, one in which I had a part in selecting has served to bring me back to you once again. My spiritual awareness was pricked and I found myself wonting.

Looking into the glory
of your face,
Great Redeemer,
I recognize my smallness.
In your presence
when I am wholly trusting,
I am aware
of my shortcomings.
I so need to breath holy air,
taking in your grace and mercy.
Then I shall not be afraid
of the great or the tiny.
My heart will beat in rhythm
with the Divine.
And I shall dance
in delight
with the true Source
of my life.

You are everything, Andrea

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Dear God,

Sometimes something you perceive in your mind does not become the reality you hoped for.

Since I didn't have to preach on Sunday, I was able to attend a Fellowship Group meeting at the home of one of our members. A weiner roast, lots of potluck foods, and a hayride were on the docket. I dressed warm.

When I arrived, cars lined the driveway and street. People were milling around the fire, some holding long, aluminum forks with hot dogs roasting. What a beautiful Autumn scene.

I walked into the barn/garage where the food lined the tables. I hugged a couple people, filled my ghostly paper plate (it is Halloween time) and stood with a small circle of people talking away.

"I went to the church this morning and the tile was still not laid in the halls." One woman told me. "What? That was supposed to have been put down yesterday." I told them. "I've been there several times checking things out. We have had problems. They had to make a lot of repairs. But I was told it would be put down yesterday. I'll have to go check it." I assured those who gathered.

I stayed for another hour visiting with people in the garage, around the fire, inside where it was warm. What a nice evening with friends. I couldn't get away.

Finally, I left and drove to the church. Cans and tools were spread around the old entrance. When I walked inside, the television was blaring, the door was propped open and tools were scattered. "What in the world?" I asked myself. I walked down the hall and around the corner. No workers. I went into the narthex where three members of the Hispanic congregation were talking. "Have you seen the tile workers?" I asked. "They went for dinner. They asked us to watch over the building." They replied back.

I shut doors, turned off the TV, and wheeled it into my office. I called the carpet man we had been dealing with. I told him the situation and he assured me that we could walk on the tile in the morning. I was glad of that. I thought we couldn't walk on it for two days. With that off my mind, I started to leave. Then I heard the guys talking in the hall. They had returned from dinner. They told me of more problems they had run into and that they wanted to do the best job for us. Basically, they said it had been a nightmare job, nothing square, door thresholds varying where the tile and carpet were to meet. I understood. Things would basically be ready for Sunday morning.

That was when it struck me. I didn't like the tile. I had initially met with the carpet man who gave us samples. I had picked out the ones I liked but kept some others so we could make a joint selection. Several people including the donor who was willing to pay half to have the job done looked them over. When the carpet man had suggested a pattern to break up the long white tile, I thought it was a good idea. We all did. The little samples laid out on the table looked good together. We made our selection.

But when the tile was laid, the little sample of the white tile with a few little flecks became a square of flecks with some white around it. Butted up against the "pattern" it looks so busy. I went home thinking the congregation was going to hate it.

Then I woke up at 4:00 a.m. still thinking about it. It's not like you can hide hundreds of square feet of hallway tile. (I had envisioned laying my body across it, trying to conceal it) It is what it is. You can't change it. And if people don't like it, you simply tell the truth. The sample was a poor representation of the tile.

Well, God, it looked good in my mind, in our minds. I know it will be a disappointment to some people. And I will be sad for that. I really will. And some may even think it is hideous, wanting to hang the person who selected the tiles. Good thing someone's already been hung for the mistake! I wouldn't look good hanging from my toenails.

There are those moments in life when you want or need someone else's approval or you just want to make someone else happy. But it doesn't always turn out that way. And disappointment comes. And people are unhappy. I'm not happy myself at the moment.

But life goes on. It won't be the last disappointment I will ever face. It's what happens to the disappointment when given to God that makes all the difference. Trusting God with our failures and our thwarted expectations is what faith is all about. I can either trust God or beat myself up. I know what God wants, desires for my life. I am constantly reminded of how much I need Him.

Oh my, Lord,
I sit here writing,
a little anxious,
a lot worried.
But you have many greater things
about which to be concerned
like the true suffering in the world.
Forgive me
when I get caught up
in the small things
and fail to keep perspective.
I need to remember
that you are God
and I am your child
in constant need
of your care.
As such,
I require
an ongoing relationship
where we talk often
about everything.
Thank you
for your constant faithfulness.
I guess I need to give you
the tiled floor
and my deflated ego.

Love, Andrea

Friday, October 20, 2006

Dearest God,

What if everything stopped doing what it was designed to do? Mountains refuse to stay in place. Water moves beyond its boundaries. Food stops growing. The sun withholds its light. And every day is dark, black as night. All things would cease to exist.

By contrast how rich and beautiful is life when all things live out their purpose. The daily rhythms flow and yield and the beauty of creation displays itself, pointing to its Creator. And joy is born.

I went to an apple orchard late in the afternoon. Some friends joined my hubby and me. The apple trees had pretty much given all they could. We found most of the apples high in the trees. We plucked an apple here and another there, tasting this one, then that variety. Juicy, luscious, delicious red apples, the taste of Autumn.

When we were about to leave, we stood high on a hill overlooking the valley. We could see for miles. The setting sun spread its rays across the colored hills and we beheld the beauty of God. The sun on its course, the apple trees having given their fruit, the air cooling, the laughter of friends.

As I shined up an Ida Red apple, I held it in my hand, staring at it. It really was a beauty. Its bright red skin against the white white flesh, I was looking at an example of God's created order. The apple tree and its fruit had followed the design of God. As it concludes its fruit bearing time, it will now rest, taking in energy, strengthening its roots during the winter months. And the Spring will bring a new season of growth, a beautiful witness of God.

Source of light and life,
we give thanks for the magnificence
of your creation.
You have provided for your children.
You have made enough food for all.
But there is not enough food for all
when we do not feed one another.
We are designed
to care for one another
just as you care for us.
Help us do our part
graciously,
thankfully.
We owe you everything.

Love always, Andrea

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Dear God,

I tried to squeeze you in today. I couldn't write this morning because I had to leave the house at 6:00 a.m. I took my husband for minor surgery, then out to breakfast. Over omelettes and French toast, we talked about inviting some friends for an adventure. Picking apples, dinner at Gray's, and back home for cards and/or games. Most said yes.

That was the precipitous moment. I began cleaning the house. You know how long it's been since I've dusted, swept and cleaned? I'm embarrassed to say how long. I thought I would spruce up the areas where friends would be during the evening. I cleaned two bathrooms, the dining room, and one bedroom where they might want to put their coats.

It was all going along very well...until...someone woke up and wanted to move the mulch, plant the bulbs and clean the outside before anyone got here. Life's little irritations begin to emerge out of the carpet. Floating in the air from room to room. Little green gremlins scampering across the living room.

"I think we should move the plants in the living room..." One gremlin said to another." Egad! I thought I was going to go crazy. A simple outing was becoming a rocky road.

I decided to write. I walked downstairs, turned on the computer and clicked on the Internet. It didn't want to work. I tried it several times. (The time was ticking...tick, tick, tick.) It still wouldn't work. Final I was connected.

But then I couldn't get on the blogger site. I tried once, twice, three times. Four, five and six. That was when I heard the voice. "Look at yourself! Are you really ready to talk with God? Are you in any mood to listen and follow?" God asked. I hung my head. "You're right! I'm not." I answered God. I took a deep breath and waited, calming my spirit. And, of course, the next click took me right where I wanted to be. And my spirit was better prepared to write.

I wish I had an angel who lived with me full time, a divine being who would frequently say to me, "Stop. Calm down. Relax. Don't worry. Breathe! We can do this together." My load would be lightened. The light would penetrate my darkness. And I would remain in a state with God where we could converse easily without frustration.

It wasn't my husband's fault that I became irritated. He simply wanted to help. We just disagreed on what needed to be done. I knew I could get everything done if I worked like crazy until the last minute. But I knew my friends would prefer that I not work myself to death because they were coming to our home. Otherwise, they might not come.

I used to do that, working like crazy, making everything perfect, preparing to have people come to our home. But I have purposefully chosen not to continue that behavior. I do work hard. But I do not want to spend every moment of my day frenzied, anxious, worn out. And the fact that God and I spend time together helps give shape to my day, giving me balance and peace.

I need to stop and listen more often before I do something, say something. It only takes a few seconds to ask God for help, and a few seconds more to calm down and listen. And when I faithfully follow, I can enter into that union so holy that I can meet myself, see myself as I am, and allow God to change me.

And the green gremlins...well, that's for another time. Ultimately, it's all in God's hands, gremlins and all!

Never let me go,
I pray.
Never leave me on my own;
I need your wise counsel,
Heavenly Father.
Remind me again...
the Lord is my Shepherd.
I am a sheep,
a lamb,
needing to be corralled,
corrected,
loved,
and sent on my way,
your way.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Dearest God,

An inner life with God make a difference, a unique experience that brings renewal. New learnings, illumination that comes out of blindness, an opening of the ears that brings the sweet melody of joy rise up in the human spirit. Atoms circle in new fashion restoring order, surging with new life. The human body changes. A new being is born...again. The body and mind are attuned to the spirit, a uniting, a reunion of the whole.

Some days I know that I am drinking from a deep well. I can taste the livingness of the water. My whole being radiates with the Master's spirit. I know "from whence I come."

At covenant group we shared. Normally one person opens themselves to the Spirit and the other two remain in prayer inwardly as we spiritually discern with our colleague. Where is God in the midst...? We will ask. Gentle spiritual nudging, listening for the Voice that reveals all. We wait for God to speak. And the Holy voice will be heard.

But today one was out of town. Bill offered the devotion, words from Mother Teresa who spoke love from Calcutta, a love that traveled round the world. Then we each shared. I found myself sharing from that deep well, learnings from the day before. An encounter, no two. God was in the room.

When I drink from the deep well, I am nourished with a living presence. I literally drink in God. It is both a spiritual and emotional experience. At times I can feel the physical manifestation of God within. I know that I have become part of God. I lean in to His bosom. And the purity of our spirits together is like nothing on earth. I am perfectly content, at peace. This experience may last for just a moment, an hour, sometimes more. But it is distinct, a moment in time to return to, to give one's self to, to make an offering to. It is God.

Some days I am far away. Distant from this God who provides life. I am drying up, yet unaware. Until I am withered, bent, burdened. And God looks at me as a loving parent, then scoops me upward, offering me the cup. And I drink life once again.

I spent most of my life as an insecure person. My greatest value was those moments when God and I touched. But the in between times were empty, when I felt afraid, vulnerable. I tried to be perfect, to win the approval of those around me, whoever "those" were. I believed that one found their purpose, meaning and value by the ways one gave one's self away. Until there was no self left. I could not return to reclaim the pieces dropped along the way. I had to be remade.

There were moments when I longed for what I had lost. Those broken parts, fragments of my former self. But the gate behind me was locked. The remnants of my past, gone forever. Grief.

I discovered that yesterday's doings can never be relived today. They are over and gone. Today is filled with the promise of tomorrow. And hope lives in between. In my sharing I discussed my celebration of today.

I want to walk the hallowed way. I want my greatest desire to always be my walk with God. I want to function out of the deep well, not the muddy puddles that come during a rain and dry up as quickly as they come.

Living water comes only from you,
O God.
Everything else is muddy water.
To live at the Center
is to drink often
from the well.
But the well will dry up
if I do not carry
the cup to another,
and another,
and another.
Keep me close, Lord,
for I am thirsty.

Love always, Andrea

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Dearest God,

If the living presence of God is available, accessible every moment of each day and one is open to this presence, then it is to be expected that the Word of God will come to you. Some days this will be a word of encouragement, of hope. The light will shine. At others times it will be a word of challenge, a change that needs to be made, a wrong made right, a word of enlightenment to speak to the soul about priorities, loyalties, and the condition of the soul.

I have long desired to know the will of God for my life. I honestly and earnestly desire to hear God's voice, to listen to God's words. There are moments when His words are sweet like honey, His love is apparent. Other moments are filled with questions. Who are you? What is your desire? How do you want to live your life? What is important to you? The God of the Universe wants to know.

There are more challenging moments when God is able to unearth the ways of the soul. Some of these are hidden to the human mind. Others are on the tip of the tongue. Many are somewhere in between here.

When the word of challenge comes, it may come as a searing, hot iron, a sting or a pinch. It may bring up a situation where one needs to take a deeper look at one's own attitudes, actions, and desires. If one is always humble before God, then that one will remain close, doing regular checks of relationship, always asking God to lead and illuminate. If one is not aware, conscious always of one's own ways, then it can be easy to slip away, not far, but yet there can be movement away from the deepest longings of the heart. One can forget who is God and who is not.

A few days ago something crossed my mind about myself. Am I staying in the center of God's will? Do I remember that I am dependent on God? Do I know my place with God and others, my ministry and relationships? Do I think more highly than I ought about myself? Do I regard my whole self as God's own? Do I understand myself as a sacred design of God?

It is a delicate balance, this life with God and others. I can tip in almost any direction at any time, in any situation. That is when the Word of God comes as a challenge. Are you still mine, God may ask. I am momentarily stunned. This particular question causes me to step back, to reassess my situation. Am I?

The word of challenge, although it has a kick to it, serves to keep me where God wants me...close, as a friend, a child, a daughter. In those moments I see the answer to my prayer. God has checked in with me and I check out myself. There is always room for growth, transformation. An act of love has captured me once again.

You are my heart's deepest longing.
Each day I walk the human path.
Some days I am keenly aware
of what lines my path.
I stop, look, and listen.
I honor you as I stay in touch.
When my life takes unexpected twists and turns,
I may not be able,
nor interested,
nor quiet enough
to pause,
to take stock in the prized moment
given by God.
I may miss the spiritual landscape,
the beauties set forth.
I may get tangled up,
and fight my way out,
to rise again in the arms of God.
I long to hear your voice,
of hope, love, challenge,
and discernment.
It always comes to me
as words of life.
I recognize once again
the sacred partnership
we entered
and I am glad.

Love, Andrea

Monday, October 16, 2006

Dear God,

I said something that triggered some harsh words. When my husband could not get into my car which was parked in the driveway, he was upset and said a few words. I went out into the rain in my pajamas, walked through the pile of mulch that has disturbed him for months because I have not yet been able to get it all put into the garden and unlocked the door. I walked into the house as he drove away, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Then I did an interesting thing. Where I would normally become very angry, instead an idea crossed my mind. I pulled out my narrow ruled pad and waited for Harold to come home. When he came in sulking and sat down in the rocker I walked into the room and sat on the floor at his feet. I held up my notepad. "Do you know what's good about a narrow ruled pad over and against a wide ruled?" I questioned. Reluctantly, he looked up and said, "I don't know." He certainly didn't care at that moment either. The difference is that you can write more things on a narrow ruled pad about what you don't like about your spouse than you can on a wide ruled. He looked at me, puzzled, perplexed, and disinterested.

"I don't want to ever upset you!" I announced to him. "So I want you to tell me everything you don't like about me. Really, I want to know!" During the course of the next two or three minutes Harold rattled off everything he could think of, each reason he did not like my attitude and behavior. When I had written down 11 reasons, I said, "Why not make it a baker's dozen? That's 13!" He unwittingly smiled.

Then I paused and tore off a tiny piece of paper about 1" by 1" and gave it to him with a pen. "Now write down everything you do like about me." I asked. He grinned. Then he began writing. Instead of using the postage stamp sized lined paper, he wrote on the same page all the things he didn't like. In a couple minutes he handed it back.

During the course of the next several minutes we talked calmly. I went through each item he had shared about me, paying special attention to those items he did not like. "I can work on this item. I can do better at this." I went through each one. "This one drives me crazy. It will be hard to deal with this one." About the time I got to the end, he thought of another one. I wrote it down. "That make's a perfect dozen!" I addressed it and he offered one more. "There you have it, the baker's dozen. That means I am a deficit two. Eleven things you like. Thirteen you don't! That's a deficit two. I'm a deficit two!" I declared as I remained seated on the floor looking up at him. "Now..." he tried to speak. "No, it's okay, I'm a deficit two!" I retorted. Then he shared one more thing he liked. "That's better, now I'm a deficit one."

Finally I got up and started to the bedroom because it was late. He followed me. "I'm a deficit one!" I repeated. That's not very good I thought. I said it again when I crawled into bed. "I'm a deficit one. I'm a deficit one!" (I probably should have said I was in default since he loves to go around saying, "We're in default, we're in default!") About that time Harold saw the absurdity of our earlier moments, but also that we had talked about areas of conflict between us. While I did not raise any of my issues concerning him, it was a productive discussion.

As I slipped off to sleep, I felt pleased that God had dropped a creative thought into my mind and that I had listened obediently (to God, not my husband). I had followed through and by doing so had dealt with difficult issues creatively. We were no longer angry and I truly knew what he liked and didn't like about me. I didn't try to defend myself in any way. I just learned what I needed to know and what I could do, on my side, to build up our relationship. It was honestly fun, believe it or not. I had fun doing it. That is certainly not the case all the time!

I trusted God in a conflict situation. What could have erupted into a "you, you, you..." conversation, a blaming session instead became a meaningful dialogue with the man I love. I think he felt that I was interested in his feelings and wanted to promote a better partnership between us. It was a good exercise for both of us.

Although I went to sleep chanting, "I'm a deficit one," I realized that God loved me. I was not a deficit one in his eyes, nor was I really in Harold's. I felt the confidence that we weren't letting the sun set while we were angry, but rather assuring one another of our love and some areas we needed to work on. God was the third presence in the living room and the bedroom. How blessed we are to know it for it was Jesus himself who said, "blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God."

You are ever present,
Loving God;
we cannot escape your presence.
You hear our cry,
our anger and resentment.
Two hurting,
sometimes pouting children,
you rush to our aid,
infusing us with new options
for reconciling old broken ways.
You take hold of the fragmented pieces
and with the glue of the spirit,
you put them back together again,
making them new.
The cracks
will show a faint line forever
as a reminder
that the potter made some adjustments
to the clay
one day.
An act of generosity,
divine, yet mysterious,
God on Timber Lane.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Dear God,

They came back home safely, every one of them. There were eight; they had traveled to Mississippi to help with the Hurricane Katrina disaster relief. Some were gung ho, a couple were on an adventure, and one had to pulled along.

They walked into a divine mystery the minute they stepped inside the Seaside Volunteer Center. A sacred environment, God welcomed each missionary. And during the days that followed, strangers became friends, then friends became family. A spirit of love passed from person to person. By week's end, they were one body, a community of faith.

As they returned some were mystified, bewildered, and overwhelmed by events that brought them together. Some were brought to tears by what they had experienced. All were touched by God.

Some things seemed to be destined. Others catch us by surprise. We aren't always prepared to experience the Divine. But when it takes place, it is a marvelous happening. We find ourselves breathing holy air, drinking in the light, reveling in sacred mystery. We shake our heads, blink our eyes, trying to make sense of our experience to no avail. We are simply captured by the Master of the Universe.

God challenges us in deeper places. When we offer ourselves as worker bees of the Creator, it is God who works on us, stirring our souls in new ways, stripping away obstacles, revealing the holy in each one of us. We are made new and we don't even know it is occurring until we are nearly finished with our tasks. And suddenly we know that something has taken hold of us and we are different than we were.

The loving presence of God awaits us every millisecond of the day. We are not alone in the cosmos, begging God to be with us. We just need to open our eyes to the Divine Spirit that is with us and within us. When we come to the realization that we were born into this Spirit, we are confounded, blown away by the awesomeness of this truth. We can hardly contain ourselves. And all we can do is live in gratitude and be present to the spiritual reality. And that is when joy erupts, an eternal joy that become part of the fiber of our being.

"Breathe on me,
Breath of God.
fill me with life anew,
that I may love
what thou dost love,
and do what thou wouldst do."
Surely the presence of God
filled Edwin Hatch
when he wrote these words
in 1878.
God has been around
a long, long time.
It is our turn
to live with God,
to express our happiness
and to live the life of faith.
It is God with us,
Emmanuel.

Love always, Andrea

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Dearest God,

I stayed overnight at my daughter's home because she and her husband both had to work during the night. My granddaughter and I slept in our sleeping bags on the floor in her bedroom. My other granddaughter slept in the nursery.

I woke up about three times when my youngest granddaughter began to fuss. I listened for a minute then went into the kitchen to warm a bottle. Each time I returned she was sleeping. I put the bottle in the frig and returned to the floor. About 5:00 a.m. she cried a little longer so I got up, changed her and gave her the warm milk. In minutes she was sleeping again and so was I.

About 8:00 a.m. the oldest awakened next to me. "Grandma, tell me stories about when you were a little girl." She asked me. I had to think a minute. I shared a story about me running away, riding my bike to the next town when I was 12 years old, not telling my grandparents who were caring for my siblings and me while our parents were finding a new home in California. "I got into a lot of trouble." I told her.

"Tell me a story about when Mommy was a little girl." I shared a funny story and we laughed as we snuggled in our sleeping bags.

When I looked at the clock, I realized we were late. I was supposed to get her ready for a tea party that she would attend with her other grandma. So I hurried around, brushing her long, curly hair, fixing her breakfast and zipping her dress. When her other grandma arrived she was ready to go, carrying her American Girl doll who was to attend with her. We kissed and hugged goodbye and they were out the door.

As they left, I heard the baby awaken. I sneaked into the bedroom to just watch her amuse herself in the crib. She played with the wall, moved her blankies, and picked at the little skirt surrounding her changing table. She would smile, pleased with herself. When she turned, she saw me standing nearby. That smile widened, her eyes sparkled and she put out her hands to me. I picked up that sweet darlin' and placed her on my lap. She poked at my eyes and nose and mouth until she realized she was up and ready to go. She crawled down off my lap and grabbed a talking toy. I just watched her, content to give God thanks for the little things of life that bring such great joy.

You delighted me today
in the presence of my granddaughters.
I saw your creative work
as I looked into the eyes
of two healthy, happy children.
I heard your voice whisper to me
through them,
"I love you, I love you."
A tender voice,
the voice of a six year old
declaring her love for her grandma
became the voice of God.

Love, Andrea

Friday, October 13, 2006

Dearest God,

Linda and I worked on my video until 2:00 a.m. this morning. I was too tired to drive home. With just six hours before I had to get my car into the shop, I slept for four hours then got up and started the 45 minute journey home.

Sleepy tired I slipped the Be Still and Know CD into the disk player. The moment the melodious sound played, I felt a gentle beauty ascending in my heart. With the dawn's rising in heavy traffic, I felt the loving presence of God, filling me with joy. I sensed the awesomeness of God so loving that words escaped me to describe my feelings, my thoughts of gratefulness.

"As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after you. You alone are my heart's desire, and I long to worship you. You alone are my strength, my shield; to you alone may my spirit yield..." My heartfelt desire, the words were forming, sharing the deepest secrets of my soul. The instruments played their notes, deliberately honoring the God who shaped them.

Tears filled my eyes, "How blessed I am, Lord, how blessed I am." Brief moments of remembrance of God's hand in my life through cancer, divorce, heartache and loss, the blessedness of that presence that refused to let me go. I thought of my renewal, my own spirit's renewing and the joy of the gifts I have received from God's own hand.

"Open my eyes that I may see glimpses of truth..." the music played on. I sang, imagining myself dressed in white, dancing at the altar, my body singing its praise to God. Free, dancing freely, spontaneously, worshipping with my whole being in solitude with the God of all Creation.

My prayers lifted to the heavens as the sun rose confidently in the sky. Peace filled the car, the calm of heaven that comes when one of God's creatures grasps the utter grace that life is.

"Alleluia...Alleluia...Lord, we praise you...Lord, we praise you...You are worthy...you are worthy...," the song rang out. The throng of angels and saints joined in the chorus. Together we were lifting our voices to the cosmos in praise. I am full, so full, dear God.

"Sing alleluia to the Lord," we continued, one great blend of voices singing, hoping, praying from the heart. This is glory, the glory of the Lord. Cars passed by, rushing to work as I offered my praise, rejoicing in the Lord. So full of thanksgiving. Some day when I am passing from this world, I want to be singing alleluias to God.

"Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way. Thou art the potter; I am the clay..." Let the molding begin, Master Potter, take the clay of my life, shape it, remake it, make me what you will.

There were no words to the songs, only instruments, the words came together rising up to God. I sang my hopes and dreams to Ruler of the Universe. "In my life, Lord, be glorified today."

An unexpected moment of praise
opened my eyes to the majesty of God.
Perhaps lack of sleep
left an opening in my soul,
allowing my love
to seep out and upward.
Holy moments
such as these
erupt into grace offerings
from your children.
We cannot help ourselves.
We are yours;
you have established our partnership
and your spirit feeds the well
that leads to praise.
Together,
we were a spiritual union
this morning.
I could not find the line
of where You began
and I entered;
we were one.
My voice singing praise
was your own
singing out its loveliness
into the universe
for all the world
to hear.
Fill me with constant praise...
for You.

Forever yours, Andrea

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Loving God,

"Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us." The chant is repeated three times, the last phrase, "grant us peace." For nearly twenty years I have echoed these words at the Carmelite Monastery during the Eucharist. But the impact of the words struck me yesterday as I uttered them. "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world..." I saw the war raging in Iraq. "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world..." I envisioned knife fights and smoking guns in the streets of Indianapolis. "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world..." I detected abused children's cries.

"Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world..." A prayer, a plea, a lament for God to act. I was wailing in my spirit, groaning for God to change us, transforming our way of being toward one another, regenerating us, reformulating us with a new code. I felt fear and sorrow together, a world unsettled, people being destroyed in the most heinous ways. "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world."

Then suddenly a time warp set me down at the foot of the cross. I heard the mystery words. "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." Jesus' own cry to take away our sins. What will it take, what price to rub out our sins, erasing them forever? Will we turn around in time to avoid another great war? Lines are being drawn between nations; government leaders are aligning themselves with others. Are we banding together for war? "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world..."

The bread was offered, small round papery discs on a blue pottery plate, "the body of Christ," Sister Jean Alice whispered to me. I picked one up, holding it in my hand as I turned to my covenant brother, "the bread of life, Bill." I heard the howling voices begin to quiet. "Lamb of God, you take away..."

My sins,
are they gone by your generous act?
Or are they dulled
in my senses
until I decide to sin again?
I do not carry a gun at my side,
nor have I concealed a knife,
but my words,
my attitudes and actions
can destroy,
have destroyed.
I have the power to destroy,
there I've said it,
I have the power to destroy.
"Lamb of God,
you take away the sins..."
even mine.
Those extraordinary eyes
look down at me,
a man broken and bleeding,
"Father, forgive..."
"Grant us peace."

I owe you everything, Andrea

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Dear God,

I planned to play in the leaves yesterday. I actually put rakes in my car so I could use them to make a huge pile of leaves. Then I envisioned taking a running leap, lunging my whole body into the colorful leavings. Now, I hadn't intended to enjoy this activity alone. A couple friends were going to join me. Actually it was a counselling technique, using play to lead to a deeper emotional arena. It didn't work out. The person needing some help couldn't leave the comforts of the known and familiar.

I remember several years ago when our covenant group held a three day retreat. Our topic was "play." Since it is true that many pastors do not know how to play once they move into a parish, we decided this would be a good area of study. So each of us thought of an activity or two where we could play like children.

It was Fall so one of us thought pumpkin carving would be fun, naming our orange ball in a special ceremony, then all of us singing our favorite song at the same time. We laughed until we nearly fell over.

Another activity was playing in the leaves. Our friend and colleague had never played in the leaves; but most of his 50 years he had thought about doing it, but never given himself permission to do so. So we raked the leaves around the rented home and piled them high. You could just see the anticipation growing on our friend's face. When the heap was just right, he took off running, then vaulted himself into the accumulated mass. He rolled to the right and left, until he was too tired to do anything more. That's when we joined him. We played and played. When we finally ended the activity we had so many leaves in our clothes and hair.

We still remember that retreat. About this time every year we recall it, still smiling from our ability to return, to give in to childhood desires. And we still laugh like crazy when we remember the pumpkins.

Play is an incredible experience. Setting one's self free to engage in the ridiculous is healing, fun, whole, and holy. That's why we did another retreat on the same subject a few years later, this time blowing bubbles, making sidewalk chalk pictures and sitting in a stream building a rock altar at Turkey Run State Park.

I can't begin to share the value of play. To return to the delights of childhood is to return to the soul. It cleanses, restores, makes whole what is broken. And why not? Society as a whole may look down on adults acting like children. But what we discovered is that it brings joy to others around. In their eyes you can see the joy and the desire to play themselves. How fun it would have been had they decided to join us. But alas, they were not free to do so.

When the soul is open to the spontaneous moment, God can do wonders. Emotional freedom is so unbelievably tangible that joy can erupt like a fountain and healing can do its restorative work. It's "God in the moment." I like it, no, I love it!

The inner child never grow up,
thank God.
Our childish glee is a heavenly gift.
To return to this child
is to return to one's soul.
A uniting of mind and soul,
body and spirit
is to be wholly together
and this wholeness
can lead to the holy,
every time.
And what spectacular beauty,
God's own!
Fall is a time for remembering,
days, hours, minutes, seconds
savoring the joys of life
in the midst of change and transition.
With our God.

Love always, Andrea

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

My dearest God,

Bells tolled in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The Amish girls were laid to rest. And why did Presbyterians peal their bells? So many people have helped them since 9/11 they said and they wanted to give something back.

Tornados appeared out of dark clouds and spun their way to the ground in southern Indiana, destroying everything in its path. Baker's Chapel United Methodist Church went down with it. That was a year ago. They are rebuilding but need lots of help. NYC firefighters came a few weeks ago. They worked a few days. And why? They said they received so much help after 9/11 and they wanted to give something back.

It seems like a trend. Receiving help and giving it back. Strangers merging, coming together to help one another. If it is true that it is more blessed to give than it is to receive, then those who have already received and are now helping are twice blessed. If societies lived this basic tenet, then the whole world would be receiving and giving. This gracious act could literally change the world.

Something happens inside us when a perfect stranger comes to our aid in a crisis. We can't quite get our mind around this act of generosity. We scratch our heads, looking for an explanation. But it doesn't come. It is a sheer display of love.

Gayle is giving back. In her 70's she suffers from diabetes, back problems, asthma and other associated health problems. When we gave the plea at church for workers to go to Mississippi to offer aid to those affected by Hurricane Katrina, Gayle was one of the first to say yes. When she told her children she planned to help out, they tried to talk her out of it, citing age, health, and safety issues. But Gayle would not give in. "I want to give something back." She told me.

Last night I talked by phone with some of the work crew. Finally Gayle got on the phone. "I got up at 5:00 a.m." She's on the kitchen crew, cooking for 50 something volunteers. She was so proud, happy to be part of the effort. And not only that, she had gotten to know my husband pretty well and she was teasing him and they were all laughing after a hard day's work.

Receiving and giving. Giving and receiving. A love cycle. Deemed beautiful by its Composer. I've received a lot during my lifetime. The stories of my earliest beginnings, the numbers of people who cared for me, friends of my parents. I had lots of helpers, people who wanted to give something back, people who had nothing to gain but everything to give.

I've done my share of giving back. But I sense there's no end to it. Even when the "job" is complete, there's still something stirring in my heart, looking for the next time. Sometimes it's something as simple as a smile to a troubled person, a hug or handshake, letting someone get in front of you on the road or in the grocery store, sharing a word of encouragement or affirmation. In some odd way or another it is about embodying the person of Jesus in situations where people have a need. And we have the power to change the situation for someone else.

We find You in the spirit
of someone giving back.
We witness your love
as someone else meets our need.
We discover we are not alone;
You are with us,
loving and caring,
generous.
We do not walk the path alone;
we are destined to meet strangers
in the intersections of life.
We have a high calling to lift
the heart and spirit of one
who has fallen low.
And we are required to receive
the gift of another reaching out to us.
A tapestry of love.

Always, Andrea

Monday, October 9, 2006

Dearest God,

"Shoot me first," the 13 year old Amish girl cried out. "Shoot me second." Her younger sister implored. Looking directly into the barrel of a gun, they offered themselves as a sacrifice for the others. The shooter took them up on their offer.

A one-room schoolhouse in Pennsylvania became the site of extraordinary courage. Children exhibiting raw courage in the face of a crazed man who came to kill them.

When did we decide to turn against our children? To mistreat and misuse them? To neglect or abuse them? I still can't conceive the hierarchy in the Catholic Church whose loyalty was greater for the institution, rather than their own children! I can't get over it. I can't understand how any adult can harm a child, least of all clergy and government officials like the current case of a senator alledgedly preying on teenage pages in the Senate. I was astounded when I read about what was happening in the Netherlands where a group of pedophiles have formed a group to get support for a law changing the age of consent from 16 to 12. For what? So they can seduce them even younger and get by with it?

I was haunted for months when I read about human trafficking, how predators go to rural villages in foreign nations and offer to buy or take babies to "better" their lives in America. Yet, their sole purpose is to use, exploit them for big money.

I want to vomit when I imagine the ways children are being destroyed. And we who are the adults were given these children to protect and not harm. I don't get it!

When did we decide to turn against our children? Have we lost our mind? When our youngest members of society have to step forward to offer themselves in the midst of evil, I wonder where and how in God's heaven we can reshape ourselves to return to our values where children are regarded as sacred human beings, a gift from God.

Forgiveness, the ability to forgive someone for heinously destroying a human life, is a lesson to be learned. The Amish society in Pennsylvania is an unbelievable example of humanity exhibiting the highest moral, ethical, and spiritual values. I think in the end forgiveness has to take place or revenge will raise its ugly head in the void destroying more lives.

At the same time I think it is a wake up call to every person who reveres human life and honors God's gifts. We cannot take these events lightly as if they will go away. They won't. In a world bent on destroying itself at so many levels, we've got to plead with God to find a new way and act upon it.

And I find myself where I began, "shoot me first." I need that kind of courage to fulfill my own life's purpose. A world without God will eventually kills itself.

I cling to you, Great God,
for direction and guidance.
What is my own responsibility
in the face of growing destruction?
How can I initiate change
that will make a difference
in human lives?
How can I become courageous,
doing your will,
following your lead?
My heart is troubled
as I stand back and watch
the world of darkness
snatch our young.
Help us,
O Lord,
to save our children
because in the end
we will also save ourselves.

Forever yours, Andrea

Sunday, October 8, 2006

My dearest God,

I had just attended the Vesper Service, the holy water dripping down the side of my face. The priest offering us up to God for the night, he had sprinkled each one as we softly bowed before the altar.

The sun had set since we entered the desert chapel. In silence we left the sanctuary for the guesthouse where we would bed down for the night. There were only four of us visitors to the monastery. I walked out with the oncologist from Colorado. He and I were the last to leave.

That was when it happened! As I stepped foot on the stone path just outside the chapel entrance, I looked up and fear shot clear through my body. I had never seen anything like it in my life. The sky looked like it was falling, getting closer and closer to earth. I gasped. The physician stopped beside me. "What IS it?" I asked. "You've never seen the Milky Way before?" He replied. "That's THE Milky Way?" I responded. There were billions of twinkling lights in the sky, all seemingly carefully placed one by one. I circled around, wanting to take in the sight, the awesome loveliness of the skies, hidden from our view as we had walked earlier. I simply could not take it all in. The giant mass of swirling stars charmed me as I finished the walk to my desert home. As the doctor left me standing alone by my tiny room, I spoke to God. "I have never seen such radiance, such a magnificent display of extravagant beauty. Oh Lord, how magnificent, how awesome you are." Tears blended with holy water as I acknowledged the hidden grandeur of God, now revealed in all its splendor.

As the lantern lights were extinguished one by one, I was alone in the darkness beneath the majestic firmament. In utter and total silence I breathed in God and breathed out my prayers of adoration.

Hidden mysteries of God
seek j u s t the right moment
to reveal itself.
A child holding the hand
of God,
God opens heaven's secrets.
The awesomeness
of God's sacred design
is beyond belief.
Holy, it cries out,
holy is the Lord.
And belief is no longer
a dry set of doctrine,
words we memorize
and parrot back.
It is divine mystery,
an act of love so noble and grand
that my knees buckle
and collapse to the ground
in humility, praise, and adoration.
My eyes have seen the glory of the Lord
and I want nothing more
than to remain with God forevermore.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Saturday, October 7, 2006

Dear God,

It was 3 something in the morning when I got up to go to the bathroom. Getting out of bed I noticed a glow in the bedroom. I walked over to the window and gazed upon a beautiful scene. Snow covered the ground. The bushes and flowers were a hazy white color. It snowed last night, I thought. A celebrator of the first snowfall of the year, I was surprised to see it. I hadn't heard it was coming.

A closer look puzzled me. Nearly in a perfect circle under our maple tree, the ground was green, a few colored leaves here and there. I looked around and noticed the same thing under other trees. Pondering, I realized there was no snow, rather the full moon had sent its rays to earth creating an eerie glow.

I remembered the moonglow in the desert canyon of New Mexico. It was a haunting kind of beauty, one that took my breath away. Strolling down the path in the early morning hours before sunrise, I didn't need a light for my way. I'm amazed I didn't stumble because I was circling around, with my eyes fixed on the moonbeams shining on the multi-colored stone. What a majestic view!

The earth is full of surprises. When I think I have seen it all, I realize how much I have not seen at all. Such grace fills me with humility as I imagine God painting the cosmos, bringing color, texture, and elegance to the creatures of the universe to honor and appreciate. It is one of the qualities of God I most adore.

My sleepiness caused me to see an illusion; my mind jumped to conclusions. It was one of those times when majesty and mystery came together, offering one of God's miracle secrets. I could have missed it, sleeping until the day dawned. But the gentle whisper of night stirred me and I awakened to see God standing at my window.

Majesty, mystery, and miracle,
holy secrets of God
disclosed day in and day out.
Most of the time
we are not privy
to their reality.
Yet, in the quiet moments
God is found,
discovered by those
whose hearts are opened,
whose spirits wait,
whose souls seek
the Sacred.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Friday, October 6, 2006

Dearest God,

I felt it coming on. I was shivering in the 46 degree yurt. My fault, I enjoy sleeping out, camping in the great outdoors. I love breathing in the cool, crisp air of Autumn and feeling the weight of comforters, blankets and lovingly-made hand sewn quilts on the bed. It reminds me of the unheated upstairs bedroom of Grandma's farmhouse where I breathe in memory after memory.

I felt tiny little scratches in the back of my throat. A cold or allergies I thought. Not one to let a tiny physical malady get me down, I took my nature walk in the misty morning. The hills alive with Fall colors, I felt alive as God and I conversed along the road.

But this week I began feeling tired. I worked long hours trying to get as much done as possible for the big mission trip. By the end of this week I just felt crummy. I made an appointment with my doctor, not wanting to unsettle my other health conditions as I planned my tasks in Mississippi.

An infection, the doctor told me, I had an infection, viral or bacteria, not sure which but since I would be away working in an unfamiliar place she wanted to give me antibiotics. "I know you're planning to leave tomorrow, but get as much rest as possible and drink lots of fluids. And call us, we have 24 hour coverage by phone, if you run into trouble." The doctor urged me. Determined to get some rest in the midst of a list of chores to be done before I left, I went home in the middle of the afternoon to sleep. I missed the church fish fry because I was sleeping and my husband didn't want to awaken me.

I'm staying behind. I feel worse, rather than better. My missionary friends will have to leave without me. Besides they might just drop me off by the side of the road with all my coughing in a tightly sealed car. I'm really disappointed!

What's the moral to my story? Get more rest? Drink more fluids? Don't work so hard? Old people have to take better care of themselves? Keep the temperature at 72 degrees? Moralism won't cut it.

For me it is about listening to God. And listening well. Was I destined to go to Mississippi? I sure thought so! Did God want me to leave my parish for a week to help hurricane victims? The answer seemed clear to me. I know they need the assistance. But perhaps God has a different plan.

Knowing the will of God is difficult for me at times. Sometimes I live in a fog, wondering, wandering, not quite sure what to do next. Through prayer I learn to trust God. But this week as I walked on the treadmill, I was holding others in prayer. There wasn't much of an opening for God to speak to me.

Being flexible, allowing each day to speak its own mysteries, leads me to the will of God. When I allow myself to be pliable in the hands of the Almighty, then I can bend to God's will. If not, I can crack and break. Been there, done that!

But when I am willing to follow God's perfect leading, I am like soft, warm clay in the Artist's hands. I can be reshaped, made into a new person. I can learn new skills, my talents can show, and I will delight to do what God desires.

How well I remember St. Bernadette, that young peasant girl of Lourdes, who fervently opened herself to the Master's will. Daily she sought His guidance. Unwilling to do anything but follow, (well, she did giggle and dance in the convent at times) she wanted to stay in the folds of God's garment, keeping in step, walking in the same direction.

At times I feel an urgency to follow, to listen, to cling to that same garment. More than anything I want that same closeness. I delight in bringing joy to the God who has given me an overflowing fountain of joy. I know no joy greater.

As I take a picture of my friends who will tend to the suffering in Mississippi and watch them drive away, I will remember that following God's will, remaining close to the Master is my heart's delight. I will miss being there. If God desires it, I will one day go, sharing my gifts and love. But for now standing beside God is God's will for me.

O Mighty One,
what joy I feel by your side.
I can imagine
no other place to be.
To bend to your will
is like an arabesque
in ballet.
I bow to you
and whisper my praise.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Thursday, October 5, 2006

Dear God,

I heard that familiar voice ringing all the way into the bathroom. When I went into the living room my husband was watching the television, enjoying a blast from the past. Jerry Lee Lewis was singing, his fingers sliding across the piano keys. One of my favorites from the 60's I stood and listened to the old man play.

And that's when it struck me. I took my husband's hand and we rock and rolled to "Great Balls of Fire." We danced like two crazed fools at 8:30 in the morning. When Jerry Lee said, "if you think you liked that, you're gonna love this," he began to sing "Whole Lot of Shakin Goin' On'". We continued the dance, swinging one another around, singing and shakin'. It felt good bein' in my husband's arms, seeing the smile on his face, watching him do funny things with his bowed legs and shakin' arms.

As I drove down the driveway on my way to work, I smiled too. A brief moment in the arms of the man I love brought joy to my soul. I know You smiled too.

There are fleeting moments of ecstasy when God is ever so present. Even a moment of love between husband and wife can raise the level of joy in the world. Who would have driven by our home early in the morning and realized that joy was in the making in our living room? Two nutsy old people, one who is 60 and the other 70 dancing the day away?

When asked in my covenant group yesterday the question, "What did you take away with you from your renewal?" I told him that my most profound learning was that God's presence is revealed every moment of every day. I see God in the smallest things. What some would call ordinary is to me an extraordinary moment of God. I sense his presence all around me. I went looking for God. I took a journey with God and the two of us came back together bound at the heart. My God, what a great gift!

Spinning and turning, I sensed God was in the middle of our dance, happy, laughing, sensing that all was well.

Did you enjoy the dance,
Great Partner?
Did our joy pour over into the world?
Our joy is never possessed by us only.
Our gaiety is to be spilled out,
like the woman who poured out the perfume
upon Jesus' feet.
While some are turned off by such lavishness,
I revel in the beauty of one heart turned toward God.
My joy is God's joy.
It was created in me by the Master Creator.
My delight in the joy is my gift back.

Love always, Andrea

Wednesday, October 4, 2006

Dear God,

There is a tree named Beautiful. She grows at the edge of the road in Eagle Creek Park. Years ago I noticed her for the first time. Before that she was just one tree among thousands.

I think it was Fall when my eyes caught her beauty. Radiant red leaves against green that had not yet turned. Her bark was dark brown, stately. She was beautiful.

I watched her leaves turn, and later fall to the ground. With the winter winds they were swept away. She stood naked to the world, her roots taking in nourishment for the work of Spring.

She was the first tree to bud, to exchange colors, to give up her leaves. I began to watch her every day as I crossed the bridge going to and from work. Admiring the majestic quality of her branches I would call out to her, "Hello, Beautiful!"

Most people never name a tree, much less talk to it. But I learned long ago to appreciate what was around me. My relationship to the universe is important to me. We are connected together, she and I. And my affection for creation adds to the positive energy in the world; therefore, what I contribute does make a difference somewhere, somehow, some way.

I remember the day of the great pruning. Beautiful had grown so tall. She was a perfect example of symmetry. But her limbs were jutting out, laying across electrical wires. The truck pulled up, the electric shears purring; they went to work cutting out the heart of the upper tree. I recall the moment I saw her. I felt such sadness and pain. I could not imagine the trauma she must have felt. From the road it looked as if the cutter made a giant L.

That was a few years ago. She was the only one cut back so hard. Her L remains. She does not hold that original beauty I once witnessed. However, the thankfulness I feel for her continues.

I'm not sure why I have been drawn to this part of the cosmos. But clearly we have a connection. Perhaps it is because she is courageous, the first to do her part each season. Maybe it is because she holds some mystical secret or shares her magic. I just don't know. I do know that I love her.

We are all one,
dear God.
You have made us one
with the created order.
We are designed to love one another.
You have put love in my heart
for Beautiful.
You gave me the privilege
of naming her.
I think she likes her name.
It may be possible that our connection
is a sacred one.
I believe she draws me to you.
In her I see you.
I see your beauty,
your love,
your majesty,
your peace.
I am hopeful.
I know you are a tangible presence
in the world
and I am always inspired.
Today I reflect on your many gifts
and give thanks.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, October 3, 2006

My dearest God,

I'm walking twice a day on a treadmill. Lose 20 to 30 lbs, my doctor told me. Exercise. Drink lots of water. It was the answer to my question, "How can I optimize my health?"

A walk through the rainforest. A tape I purchased in Puerto Rico is a blend of flute, bells, water flowing, and harp. I play it as I walk.

I am immersed in prayer. I see and feel the loving presence, the warm light of God. Every step is closer. I see loved ones, strangers glowing in the light. I know it is God. I walk with eyes closed, reaping the benefit of the walk in nature's glow. It is not difficult going faster, slowing down, breathing, breathing in and out, taking in God's breath, breathing out my own. I am in the holy presence, walking with God, walking toward God, higher and higher.

This time is holy. Quiet solitude in the midst of a rainfall, birds singing, creation rejoicing.

Sing to me, Holy God.
Whisper your own yearnings to me.
Move my heart to act
to love and praise.
Lift my wings to the heavens
so I can dance my spirit's rejoicing.
Dress me in holiness
that I may be worthy
to step into your glorious presence.
You are Grace and Beauty.

Eternally yours, Andrea

Monday, October 2, 2006

Dear God,

For the first time I turned the corner and saw the other side. What a lovely view. An exciting adventure awaits us. I came to the realization that our church has turned its corner. We have sojourned for a long time, not certain that we would not finish the journey at a dead end. But what I saw and felt today filled me with hope and anticipation!

And so I began making plans. Like when you decide you really are going to take that vacation. I wrote a memo to my competent, giving, loving staff. I told them we had turned a corner and we were looking into the sunrise. We have work to do, I said in the memo, and we have to be prepared to help lead the way, God as our guide.

I believe this was the first day in my career at Bethel that I felt like our body was ready to move somewhere together, only a couple or so tagalongs in the rear. A man who was very vocal about me leaving the church during our conflict told me today, "You really are my pastor and I love you." He said in front of his family.

What were the signs? Smiles on the faces of the people Sunday morning. New visitors coming weekly. Others wanting to join our church. Leaders willing to adjust and change to lead the congregation. Members of the flock in prayer and filled with joy. Positive spirit. More than 190 in worship the last three Sundays. Financial giving up. Boy scouts wanting to join the girl scouts and brownies in our building. Non-member folk giving sizeable gifts to the church for renovation and upgrading the music ministry. Fantastic committed staff who give their time, energy, hard work and financial gifts to the church. Task forces hard at work to make recommendations of ministry to our neighbors. Different color faces in worship. Home to the Hispanic congregation. Some members returning to the fold and happy about it. We laugh together. No more hidden agenda.

Perhaps I am the most excited because my own spiritual life coincides. We've been tracking together, running parallel. Converging with my renewal our path is one. We'll journey together toward our own promised land recognizing and acknowledging that God is the One providing the light that shines on the path leading us. And we are walking into the light. There is no doubt about it.

I can remember the darkness and the light in our life of faith. My, how the light was but a flicker but it was always shining. Oh yes, we have some bruised heads and knees from stumbling in the dark, falling to the ground. I have several of those myself. But we stood back up, brushed ourselves off and started again. And yes, there were nurses, caregivers who attended to our wounds, applying healing ointment and bandages. They were there to remove the bandages when we no longer needed them. They rejoiced in our healing. And our news turned good.

There really are no moments when God is gone. It may feel that way, but in reality God has no desire to walk away. God knows we are like self-centered young children, adolescents trying to figure out what's happening in our own bodies, young marrieds wondering where all the change came from in our partner, and mid-career people who want something different. And God has weathered it all, expecting these crazy moments, knowing full well that when the time was right we would look for home and be content to take God's suggestions for change.

It is a new day, like I told my staff, and God is in it, so in the middle of it.

Turn us around,
twirl us so that we lose our equilibrium,
and then stop us
so we will take a new look at where we are.
The journey is like that sometimes.
We become complacent in our faith
in our dreams and our visions.
We forget the power that created the universe
and us in it.
We settle for less,
so very less.
We become whiny,
wanting our own way,
then disappointed
and ticked off
when we don't get what we want.
That's because we lost our way,
stopped looking for the laserbeam
that so carefully points us
in the right direction.
But the joy that comes
when we assess our situation,
make some adjustments
and recomit to the pilgrim journey
is one of awesome satisfaction.
Jubilation!
Thanksgiving!

Love always, Andrea

Sunday, October 1, 2006

Dear God,

Connections are chords leading to the Divine. Like a guitar with strings of harmony the spiritual life is experienced by connecting to those whose center is God. A coming together, a union that leads to God erupts into mystical joy.

Our church was one today. The Hispanic family, a new congregation of Hispanics from Argentina, Peru, Mexico, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Salvadore and probably other South American countries joined us in the worship of the Almighty. Through a miracle event they will live with us at Bethel. Their prayers will rise up to heaven as they worship in our sanctuary.

A worship service in Spanish and English hit a concordant note in my soul. Heaven must be like this. Differing peoples together making up the body of Christ. We are beautiful together.

And when we shared the Holy Supper, God was powerfully present. The Spanish interpreter told me after the service that the tearing of the bread was spiritually moving for her. She envisioned Christ being torn apart and given to hungry people. One elderly man broke the silence as he ate the bread and drank the wine. "Now, there's something worth eating!" He told me. You are right, I thought, you are so right.

Something will happen to us at Bethel. Our openness to God will lead us down new paths. We could never have imagined that in a two week period two different congregations would call to use our building for the worship of the Living God. Our prayers for diversity have been heard and God has begun the steady stream of those who will join our fellowship. New joy will explode as we carefully follow God's guidance.

I called the Hispanic child whom I had met just a few days ago Amiga, friend. I told the pastor, "Mi casa es su casa." My house is your house. His countenance revealed his gratitude and his voice whispered to the glory of God.

And five people joined us for our new member class. When they unite with our congregation we will have received 31 new members thus far this year. Another one has already been through the class just waiting for her parents to come for a visit from New York so they can celebrate in her decision. Last year we took in just five or six I think.

There is a coming together activity in our church. I can't explain it except to say God is leading it. And it is an awesome time. Our faithfulness has been the key to turn events. Although we waded through a season of pain and sorrow, we have endured and been transformed by God, refined by fire.

I know God has a destiny for our church and for each one of us. Our attentiveness to matters of the Spirit will reveal God's way. And this sacred partnership will sing heavenly tunes. God is surely with us and we have found our way finally, to God.

Broken connections
lead us to dead ends.
Sacred links draw us ever higher
to the realm of God.
We are human.
We must never forget it.
We are not God
and we never shall be.
We are simply
the handmaids of God.
Now I realize more fully
Mary's words to the angel
when she said,
"I am the handmaid of the Lord.
Let it be unto me as you have said."
Trust, an unshakeable trust,
in the God of the cosmos.
The angel cry
is being heard at Bethel.
Glory be to God
in the highest heaven!

Love always, Andrea

Saturday, September 30, 2006

My dear God,

I sat outside in the crisp cold Autumn air as the light began to shine in the dark sky. In the early morning all was at peace and rest except for the rooster who was only doing his job. I watched as the cows made their way to the rolling hill pasture, mooing on occasion perhaps just to let me know they noticed my gazing.

It was a magnificent morning. An azure sky with a few billowy clouds. The sun rising in the east shining its rays on the grazing animals. The birds began to sing, one, then another in response, a symphony of sound on the farm.

I looked around, seeing for the first time smoke ascending from the old smokehouse which heated the tub outside our yurt. I watched the gentle breeze blow making ripples across the lily pad laden pond, cattails swaying in the wind.

It was an artist's canvas, one of awesome beauty painted by God. And I was alone, drawn into the rendering of creation. I began to write, inspired by the view. When all of a sudden, a soft, gray cat jumped up onto my lap. Not a cat person I wanted to shoo it away. I'm always a little frightened by cat's eyes. But there was something mysterious about this feline. I put down my writing pad as the cat circled until she found just the right position. If God has sent this cat my way, I thought, then I must welcome it. I patted its fur while it purred until finally comfortable, it fell asleep.

As I listened in silence to God's voice singing in the wind, I heard my friends begin to stir. The cat jumped down on the ground, grateful for the nap and the warm lap. And the day began in gratitude.

You are God of creation,
mystery and joy.
You speak
when we listen.
You offer us magical views
of life unfolding,
dawn emerging,
and you fill us with anticipation.
You and I,
we started our day together.
Joy filled my being.

Gratefully yours, Andrea

Friday, September 29, 2006

Dearest God,

A black night sky. A million twinkling stars dotting the firmament. "The heavens proclaim the majesty of God!"

We left for St. Meinrad before the sun rose. A Benedictine seminary near the Kentucky border was our destination. After stopping for breakfast we arrived late in the morning. A silent walk lead us to the Rock Garden. As each one of us ambled through the winding path, we heard the bells tolling, calling us to prayer. We turned and made our way to the chapel, a grand edifice with golden spires rising up into the clouds.

Seated in the spacious sanctuary with chairs on either side, altars at both ends, we entered the silence as the brothers stepped into the chancel. "O God, come to my assistance." The brothers sang together.

At once I was back home at Christ in the Desert Monastery where I spent several days just a year ago. I remembered the heavy brown robes and white cinctures wrapped around their waists as they bowed before the altar, paying homage seven times a day to the God of their faith. They too were Benedictines. I had not put the two things together. But now, I was praying the psalms as we had done last year. And as we prayed, "Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit...", we too bowed to the altar making God aware of our own devotion. The midday prayer service was just as it was during my renewal, except that we had sung the psalms in the desert. What beautiful moments spent remembering...

I recalled as well my seminary experience, the shaping and reshaping of my own faith and belief system, letting go of the faith of my grandmother to take hold of my own unique credo. The questions, the wonderings, the tears of surrender to childish beliefs and the awesome moment when it all came together.

I was in my next to last semester. I had held off taking this one class because it was the hardest class with the toughest professor. I remember taking one of his classes my first semester. I spent untold hours writing my first paper. He gave me a C and then wrote across the top "do you think such sloppy thinking glorifies God?" I was ready to quit. How could they let stupid people like me in seminary I thought to myself. But God had called me for seven long years before I said yes and I determined to stay and learn. I knew what the St. Meinrad men were thinking and feeling as they sang the psalms as a testimony to their faith. And as we left for the yurts where the four of us would be staying I was filled with joy at connecting once again to the Benedictine spirituality.

When we arrived in the rolling hills of southern Indiana, the place where we would stay I took a nap as the others hiked to the lake. And what a delicious meal we ate in honor of my birthday, a gourmet meal made with organic foods, herbs and spices. The chocolate fondue with all sorts of dipping goodies caused me to focus on what was happening inside. I hadn't even noticed the sun setting in the west.

And so when we were filled with a delightful cuisine we went out onto the deck overlooking the hills. The night was indeed black and the stars were in the millions nodding to us. And inwardly I sang the song of Sandi Patti, "O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth. O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth. O Lord, we praise your name. O Lord, we magnify your name. Prince of Peace, Mighty God, O Lord God Almighty." How can one breathe in the majesty of God without singing?

The night skies have always intrigued and mystified me. I remember looking into the skies when I was just a few years old, staying with my grandparents on their farm outside a very small town in Indiana. I remember the stars. In fact I think that was my first encounter with God. How could diamonds shine in the sky all by themselves? I thought to myself. My favorite cousin had told me God was there. I believed her and I never stopped believing.

Black nights
and shining lights
awaken my sleeping soul.
The beauty and majesty
of the heavens
hearken my spirit
to well up with praise and adoration.
I shall not forget you.
And even if my vision grows dim with age,
I shall forever remember
the skies that everlastingly
proclaim the greatness of God.

Love always, Andrea