Saturday, April 5, 2008

Dear God,

Sometimes we just have to let go. The time comes when our strong hold on something must be released.

Our beloved Carmelites are leaving. They have sold their building to the Archdiocese who will house a seminary. It will remain holy ground. We are grateful.

Twenty years. It has been twenty years that we have lived with our dear sisters. Every Wednesday my car drove itself, knew the way, longed to see them. First view brought a sigh of contentment, peace every Wednesday.

When they announced their move, I could not help my eyes from flooding with tears. Where will we go to hear the angels sing, notes not even written on the page? Whose home will be as loving, as solidly faithful? Where will we find the peace?

These nine women will leave in the next few weeks. They will join the Franciscan sisters in Oldenburg. They will cluster once again in prayer...for the rest of their lives.

I have never known such love. Even when intruders were beating the oldest member, she prayed aloud for him. They have prayed for every member of my family and my church. They saw me through cancer, my daughter's cancer, my parents' death. They ushered me to heaven at the loss of my daughter and her return 13 years later. Every significant moment in my history in those 20 years the sisters have been a part.

On Wednesday my covenant group stood talking outside when a woman who has been going there every Wednesday for 26 years asked if we were interested in forming a car pool to drive down to Oldenburg once a month. Tears glistened in her eyes. I offered to hold a gathering at my church for the community of people who have been participating in Carmel for years. We could take a look at the needs of the community, then determine what we might put together.

Although I feel the sadness and loss, my spirit is filled with spiritual DNA from Carmel. I have been threaded with them for the rest of my own days. When they leave, their spirit inside me will not leave with them. It will remain here.

I wanted to tell Grace (the woman standing with us) that we must let them go. But she was not ready to hear those words. Too painful.

My heart is filled with gratitude, gratitude for gifts beyond measure. What would my life have been like without them, their love and prayerful support, their laughter and joyful ways? How much different would my spirit have been had I not been introduced to such a deeply embedded spiritual life?

Although I cried for several hours the other day, I acknowledge that I must live without them. I will pray for them as I know they will pray for all of us who they are leaving behind. Like Mary, Jesus' mom, I will continue to ponder the wonders of our life together. I will celebrate the wondrous gift I have been given. With all my might, I will continue my spirit walk although our paths will diverge in a short time. I will carry their faces, their spirits, their love and friendship, their extraordinary faith with me all my days.

I have known their value to my life since day one so I have no regrets. I have carried them inside me all these years and I have allowed their spirituality to teach me.

On Christmas Eve 1997 while carrying a cancerous tumor in my breast they offered me the real presence of Jesus. Instead of eating and drinking the symbols of Christ's presence, I opted for the real thing. I took a step inside Christ and realized I only wanted to eat and drink of him. How could I want anything less?

And Mary, Mary the mother of God. How I have come to love her. As a Protestant look at her all these years, I could never understand the fascination of Catholics. Yet, as I lived and breathed the liturgy of the saints, Mary came to me and perhaps at one point saved my sad life.

How can I ever express my deepest gratitude to women who came quietly into my life, who allowed me space to worship, to pray, to confess, to weep my sorrows and share my celebrations? Easy. I live as I have learned to live with a deep sense of the spirit of the livingness of God every single day. The Spirit pulsates within me. I feel its breath upon me. Gratitude is living the life of faith intentionally. It is giving time for silence to speak its profound message within my life. It is letting love lead.

The inner realm
of the spirit
is mighty and gentle
at the same time.
Its beauty
is scattered
all around.
One has only
to tap into it
to live a new life.
I am nothing special,
never have been worthy
of all I have gained.
Yet, I know
the belovedness
of the Spirit
who drew me in,
filling me with grace.
My sisters and I
are one together.
We shall always be
part and parcel
of one another,
the Spirit
threading us
together.
Make my life,
O Master,
a sign of your spirit,
I pray.

Gratefully, Andrea