Thursday, March 8, 2007

My dearest God,

"Hallowed doors. Hallowed doors." These two words ran through my mind during our time of silence in our covenant group this morning. Hallowed doors.

I've been in the desert, standing on the outside. I have welcomed this high and holy place because I know I shall find God anew. When someone asked me a question about the desert place where I currently find myself, I described it as being on the outside trying to find my way back in.

So it should not have been a surprise when I heard the words, "hallowed doors." Even as the words came to me in the darkness, I began to see images of hallowed doors. Entryways to the spirit. The monastery door. The doorway to the Judean wilderness. Grandma's door. The door to the grotto. The door to former churches. The door to the African churches. The door to the African hospital. The door to St. Peter's Cathedral. The doorway to the Sistine Chapel. The door to Russia. The door to Christ in the Desert. The door to Ojo Caliente Springs. The door to St. Joseph Retreat Center. The door to St. Bernadette. The entry to the cave of St. Francis. The door to my ordination. The entrance to my cancer. The doorway to sacred dance. The door to Michelangelo. The opening to the light. The door to my covenant group. The door to heartbreak. The door to new life. The door to sacred writing. The door to the Wadi Kelt. The door to the Sea of Galilee. The entry into Ephesus, Patmos. The entrance to retreat. The doorway to the desert. The door to St. Therese. The door to suffering. The door.

Indeed, the door. Every situation is a possible entry into the spiritual life. Any condition, be it high or low, sad or glad, spectacular or devastating can lead one through a doorway to God. A hallowed door.

My highs and lows have equally taken me to the doorway to God. In my darkest moments sometimes called a "dark night of the soul," I have found God holding a light. In my greatest moments of birth, I have discovered God at the top leading the celebration. Doors, hallowed doors, entries to the Spirit, are all over the place, in every location. Even when falling down, our head and hands, feet and heart fall near a doorway. And God stands there, inviting us in.

These are perhaps the holiest moments in our lives. Witnessing the doorway, first taking baby steps, then running at full speed, we experience God waiting for us. How long has God been standing at the hallowed door, waiting for us? Forever!

I should like to spend a long Sabbath time thinking about my hallowed doors, those entryways God has placed before me. I would like to express my gratitude for each one. I want to wander through my doorways one more time, bowing down, kneeling before my Maker. I desire to kiss the entrance, an intimate reponse to the most wondrous gift God can give.

I realized today that a trip to the desert is a valuable journey. For in the desert God gains our full attention. Where else do we have to go? God has shown me the way, the path back home. Part of me is ready to go inside. Part of me wishes to remain behind. What more does God want to say to me? What more does God want of me? What more can I do to express, offer my love and devotion?

Why do we avoid the desert?
Fear?
Lack of faith?
Heartache or heartbreak?
Arrogance or pride?
God stands in the desert,
not always in the skies.
My ability to lean
toward the wind of the Spirit
can lead me to
greater spiritual vistas.
The door is always open,
never shut.
And I can enter at any time.
My heart is most grateful.
To you,
Loving God,
I owe everything.
Even my joy
has your name on it.
I stand at the door,
celebrating with the Doorkeeper.

All my love, Andrea