Friday, June 8, 2007

Dear God,

The greatest joy in my life is searching and finding you. The life of mystery, divine mystery is a life-long pilgrimage. Unfolding the hidden secrets of the divine is an adventure.

At Indiana University, site of our conference, I look for a place to write. I brought my laptop but it doesn't connect in my room. So I hiked through the Memorial Union hunting for a computer. I found it on the mezzanine floor, turn right, down the hall, around the corner, turn right. A line of four computers on a counter across from the Redbud Room. You have to stand to write.

The search for a computer whenever I am away from home is an interesting one. It keeps me freshly anticipating your presence, studying my environment for signs of the sacred, the divine. A computer becomes a symbol, a sign, a way to communicate with God. I always smile when I see it, imagining our time together.

My life with you takes me in so many directions. In the religious life, one may only think of finding God in church. Yet the church is scattered; it's all over the place. The design, I think. When I walk to the assembly hall, the church is there, waiting for me. But it is also beside me, persons living their lives in the light, sharing their experience with others. The friendliness of the church is all about me. I am never without it. Even when I am home alone, someone in the world is praying for all God's creatures. I happen to be one of them. Joy comes to me when I think about it.

Yesterday I heard a pastor share news about the Aids efforts in Africa. I was astounded by what the church is doing. We are not only saving lives, feeding them, but also giving them a way to make a living, becoming self sufficient through microfinancing. The stories enrich the heart. I found myself tearing with joy.

But the greatest story came from an older teenage boy who had been to Kenya, Africa. He stood at a microphone to tell us he had seen the devastation of Aids. He quickly became friends with an Aids-infected six year old boy. They played together, talked, laughed. The boy had lost both his parents to Aids. He was badly infected himself. Before the teenager left to return home to the states, the young boy gave his necklace to the teenager, a beautiful custom in Africa, giving gifts. The six year old died shortly after. The teenager was shaken, greatly impacted by the loss of the boy, his friend. "I wear this necklace every day..." (He took it off and showed it to us.) "...reminding me of my friend and the disease and what we need to do about it." The teenager went on to challenge us to increase our pledge to the Aids effort. So compelling, a teenager wanting to help change the world.

When I watched the young man talk (I was just a few seats from him) I could see his sincerity. I could see his love as he held the necklace in his hand. I could see the face of Jesus. We as an assembly voted to double our efforts toward eradicating Aids in Africa and at home.

My search for God is not over, never will be. Whether I find myself comfortable in my own home, working in my study at the church, traveling half way around the world, standing at the ocean or putting my garbage at the end of my driveway for pick up, I find God. My daily discoveries touch my heart in a way nothing else can.

Holy Father, Mother,
I am yours.
My daily search
takes me in all directions,
just as you would have it.
You are not in some far off place
where I have to travel to get to you.
You are here
and there.
You are beside, around.
Signs of your presence are all about.
Your mysteries,
great and wondrous truths, realities
are always unfolding.
Life is a series
of discoveries,
of wandering,
of wondering,
being awed
and breaking into praise.
I am yours,
truly yours.

Love always, Andrea