Tuesday, July 29, 2008

My dear God,

I was so tired, so completely depleted that I remained in bed all day even after sleeping 12 hours. I never do that, but my body just couldn't hold up. I had to let you minister to my body, soul and mind.

The days that I give to you are days when I look back and realize your presence kept me going. I recognize the ways in which you cared for me, spoke to me, kept me in quiet repose. I have to acknowledge that during those times when I could have been upset, disturbed and distressed for whatever reason I chose not to be. I remained close to you like a little child in a big store with lots of people. Perhaps I need you more than most. Maybe my faith is smaller than others and I need more learning. Per chance I have to sit at your feet more often to gain patience and peace.

For a moment the thought came to me that I had lost three days, but then I thought of your kindness, your loving presence and I wondered why it is that I allowed such a thought to come to me. I quickly let it go because you showed me the picture of me with you. During those three days I could have been preoccupied and lost the opportunity to be conscious of your presence.

I know that you are constantly whispering to me a new way, a better way, a more delightful way. When I bend and listen, when I stop and take stock, when I give my will to you, I find a sweeter joy in my day. I am able to be at peace, less stressed. I am comforted in the knowledge that every decision to take your hand leads me more and more to you. Where else would I want to be?

Comforting God,
a long sauntering walk
with you
is always better
than a short walk
with anyone else.
At your side,
I hear your song
sung to Creation.
I get
to join in.
We sing together.

Loving you, Andrea

Monday, July 28, 2008

Dearest God,

Patience and a willingness to listen, follow, remain focused and hopeful was the game plan you laid out for me just trying to get to my east coast home. Three delays on Sunday sent me home to rest. A delay on Monday morning coupled with getting sick sent me back to bed with a canceled reservation. A new reservation a little later was hopeful until I got there and had no seat on the plane. Someone would have to volunteer to give up a seat, the flight employee had told me. I had asked on the phone if they were overbooked and they assured me they were not. I prayed, then looked around, knowing that you knew the needs of each person. If someone else needs the seat more than me, then do what is necessary for them, I heard myself say in my own mind. Twenty or thirty minutes later the employee smiled and handed me a ticket. For me it's always sweeter to receive something back after I've already given it away. You are incredibly generous, O God. I got to Washington, DC, but missed my connecting flight due to our delay. Got another flight two hours later. And when I finally touched down in Portland, I discovered my luggage was not on board. As I stood in the lost luggage office, I noticed a bag behind the counter. I stepped behind and claimed it. Apparently it had made the first flight while I had not. Upon arriving home, I fell into bed.

I am slowly learning at your feet that life is not predictable, nor is it centered around me. My wishes and desires, hopes and dreams are not always yours and certainly not the hope and dream of others. My ability to "go with the flow" is rather a deep trust in you. Anger, resentment, and judgement get me nowhere. Disappointment leads me to you, teaches me that my life is only a tiny speck in the great cosmos and my capacity to cling to you during times of confusion and frustration will offer me a kind of sweetness in life. The employee's smile while she handed me the ticket was an unexpected surprise. It was your smile that I saw.

Oftentimes I am not able or willing to be patient, to lean in, to take the longer route to my destination in life. But yesterday's and today's fiasco was yet another moment of learning how to trust you, to hold steady, remain calm, and even to offer encouragement to others whose job it is to keep passengers happy (or at least less volatile). I found joy even while I was extremely exhausted. I am grateful to you.

Sweet Jesus,
trusting you
is all
that really matters.
My ability
to allow you
to handle
the crises
in my life
teaches me
patience,
fortitude,
and gratitude.
As I patiently
place my hand
in yours,
I feel
the flesh
of the divine
and I know
I am safe
and sound
in your hands.
I have
so much
to learn.
Teach me,
sweet Lord,
teach me.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Dearest God,

A day in your house is like none other. Seeing your children filled with joy, watching their eyes sparkle, friendships born and hospitality shared must bring great joy to you, Creator and Sustainer of Your Church.

Sometimes I wonder, dear Lord, if your church has a future. I see a turning away from God in our culture, an insidious desire to fill one's own desires at the cost of others. I see a needless wandering, just filling up with whatever suits us at the moment. And I see the effects of such activity. Selfishness, self centeredness, a world according to me. At the same time I see a praying out, wanting you to answer the heart's prayer without giving anything back to you.

How can one pray, truly cry out to you if we turn away from your church which is your beloved? It seems we want it all ways. We want you without who you love. We want you without responsibility. We want you without investment. And we only want you on our own terms.

Our greatest and highest values seem to be sliding down the tubes. The more we walk away, the more we stuff ourselves with ourselves. We opt for substitutes rather than the real you. We'd really just like a little Jesus for our shelves that we can take down on occasion to fulfill our needs, then return you to the bric brac we have accompanying him.

Yet, I look out at the joy on Sunday mornings and what I see gives me hope for a better world.

You called
the people together
and you called them
"church."
You said,
"these are
my people."
Not people
who live
for themselves,
but people
who to some degree
live for others.
Imperfect people
who are trying
to perfect themselves
with your grace.
People who give,
who love,
who share,
who reach out,
who smile,
and sometimes hug,
people who offer
you to others.
Your church,
your beloved.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Dear God,

The joy of discovery sometimes overwhelms me. When a lightbulb turns on, when eyes reveal a new truth or insight, I know the source because I see it within. As my first spiritual directees shared discoveries during their two days of retreat, my heart was drawn to the One great Source of Life. For I could see mystery unfolding, a divine mystery that was opened, a glimpse of eternity at work. I was overwhelmed in your Spirit.

Spiritually hungry people searching for a greater purpose in life reaching out to you is undoubtedly the most beautiful thing in the world. Who are we but specks in a rapidly swirling planet if without you and a divine destiny? When eternal dots connect, when your sacred cord is revealed showing your wondrous plan to those with willing eyes, nothing is greater, more awe-inspiring, more real about human life.

Two retreatants came to the House of Blessing ready for an unveiling. Prepared for a journey, they opened themselves, readying their spirits for whatever you would bring to them. In our morning worship your truth was illuminated. Not only had they found you in so many specific ways, they had found more of themselves. You had directed them and I was blessed to be a companion on the journey.

I also found affirmation for my spiritual direction. "I can continue to do this by your grace," I said aloud. Creating safe space, opening doors, offering keys to unlocking secrets is my work of ministry.

As I knelt to serve them the Eucharist, I knew again what it means to be your servant. I understood one more time that being a servant is the work of faith. Kneeling before another because you have asked it is the highest calling in life.

As we hugged and bid one another goodbye, I could only offer you all my rejoicings.

Who can stand
shoulder to shoulder
with you?
No one.
You bend
my knee
and I
lean down
to meet you
at your feet.
The sweet loveliness
of bending
before you
brings great joy
to my inner being.
And I remain
filled with rejoicing.

Loving you, Andrea

Friday, July 25, 2008

Dearest God,

In 1990 a spiritual mentor, a theological professor in Dallas, Texas, told me in a one hour interview that he could foresee me in a retreat center someday. Throughout the years while serving in your parishes I thought about that center. I couldn't imagine myself just as an administrator; I wanted to be hands on with people. So I wasn't sure how it would all work "some day."

But today I sat on the grounds at the House of Blessing Retreat Center. I looked up at the River Birch trees that I had had planted. They were supposed to die, a tree specialist warned me. I've been waiting for that to happen. But they've grown tall, so happy this year, spreading out, growing more beautiful...three trees in a landscaped area with two oriental grasses growing in between...the perfect place to sit in the shade, to contemplate, reflect, to meditate and pray, to sit at the feet of Jesus.

The House of Blessing is my home, dedicated to the promises of God. I have prayed for blessing in each room including the bathrooms, kitchen and dining room. Ever since I moved here in the 90's I have not known what to call the big room you see when you walk into the entryway. It's been the living room, the great room, but neither of them fit. When you gave me the challenge to create a retreat center right here in my home, I was more comfortable with the "common room" but when I sat down in the room today, I realized it was the uncommon room, the sacred space where uncommon things happen, the uncommon of God, where great and wondrous things happen because you are present. It fits right now. The uncommon room.

Last night the room was lighted with a single small white, round oil lamp. Instrumental hymns were playing as we each shared the ways in which your light was continuing to shine in our separate lives. You have been powerfully present for the two spiritual directees, the first in a string of others who will come. I can see your glory shining in them.

I sat in my chair, realizing a dream come true. I didn't have to go out looking for a center. You created one for me. Through the years the house was prepared, groomed for its work. A contemplative garden, a screened in porch with a small water fountain, candles and comfortable seating, tall pines on one side in the back and the River Birch on the other side. Flowers, shrubs and trees wrap entirely around the center except for the driveway. Two new wicker chairs, a table and flowers at the entry with wind chimes that sound angelic in the gentle breeze grace the front porch, long forgotten as a place to sit, to be still, to watch the sun rise and feel the warm sun in the early morning. Tears formed and gently rolled down my face. A dream, a vision, now a beautiful reality, happening before my eyes.

The test of faith is the movement of your spirit. Open hearts, minds and souls have been present, awaiting your word. And together beautiful things have happened. Gentle peace rests here in the House of Blessing and blessings are flowing, maybe even have been now for quite a while. I, myself, have been blessed.

God of blessing,
blessings have flowed
like a river.
In gentle, small ways
and earthquake size,
you have quieted us,
moved us,
spoken blessing
to us.
Such divine moments
lead always
to you.
The blessings
are your stamp,
your design
on each life.
We wear them,
a sacred mark
of your presence,
carrying them
with us
forever.
Wondrous!

Loving you always, Andrea

Thursday, July 24, 2008

My dearest God,

There they were, kneeling at the altar, heads bowed, hands weaved into the next one's. I had asked someone to take their picture as I prayed for them. I just received it by e-mail and what a beautiful sight.

One year ago, just one short year ago, you plucked out of your church three people. You called them one by one. You gave them just one song to sing over and over, your song. They came, trailing after one another. And they opened their mouths. They've been singing ever since. Now they will sing your song in Peru to your children. They are ready. For one year you have challenged them. You have polished them. You have sung to them yourself. You have put your word in their mouth, your love in their heart, your willingness in their spirit. They are prepared for the journey.

I stand amazed at what I see. While there are three singing, there is always one more who is devoted, who smiles every time one sings. He's been through the challenge himself, wondering about light and the saints and hope and joy. He's been polished himself. He's been called too. He answered pretty quickly.

I feel like a mother sending her children to school for the first time. I look at them and I wonder if they have everything they need. Not the pencils and paper and backpack, but the spiritual supplies they will need for the trip. But then again I look at the picture and I see they have packed all they need. They have you.

God of wonder,
of infinite love,
so beautiful
are your children,
children whose faces
shine in the light,
whose hearts have joined
the One great heart
in divine rhythm.
They are really yours.
All four.
So beautiful.
So beautiful.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Dear God,

My House of Blessing is silent except for music of the Sacred Well. It is ready, waiting in anticipation for those who will come to find you, to discover themselves, to live in challenge and the sweetness of your presence. The silence is pregnant, full of life waiting to come forth.

I've never thought of myself as a midwife, yet tonight as I write, I feel something stirring within me, wanting to help prepare those who will give birth. Will they labor long? Will they find the process difficult? Will they want to resist your Spirit? Will they welcome you? Will they indeed give birth? Such questions lead me always to you. I have no power, no authority for such beautiful work of the Spirit and yet you have called me and I answered.

In the waiting room filled with mystery, I know that I know I have been called to this work. Like Mary I feel like a handmaid, yours. I am simple. I am open. I am a channel of your spirit. I am willing.

Use me,
Gracious God,
use my gifts
to unlock doors,
to open windows
to the heart
and soul.
Make me
an instrument
of your will.
Soothe and calm
the hearts
of those who come,
open to your spirit.
Help us together
to walk the walk,
to discover
the sacred path
that will lead
to you.
Make our hearts
one with you.

Loving you, Andrea

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Dearest God,

Obedience. I am trying to be obedient to your call. In two days I will have two retreatants who will join me for spiritual direction in my House of Blessing. I have met with both of them, talking about what to bring, both the tangibles and intangibles that will set the stage for a time of spiritual conversation and living. While I have done spiritual direction for years, this will be the first time to be totally focused on two persons, leading and gently guiding them for two days toward you.

And so I pray for your loving presence to fill this home. I ask for your Spirit to be the true guide. I pray that those who come will sense your Spirit power here waiting for them. Use me, your servant, to do your perfect will.

I am yours,
O God.
Open my heart.
Sensitize my spirit.
Lead me.

Love, Andrea

Monday, July 21, 2008

My dearest God,

My seven year old granddaughter and I sat in the new chair on my front porch this morning. At 6:45 a.m. all wrapped up in robes (she looked so cute all wrapped up in my long, white, fluffy robe) we sat down to watch the sun peek over the horizon. I asked her what she saw that God had created. She was pretty enamored with the trees.

Our conversation took us to prayer. I told her I had come to the conclusion that the best way to start the day was with a prayer of gratitude. I suggested that she look around and think about what to be grateful for. It was hard for her at first because she told me she's not used to praying. As she said one thing, I said one thing. Back and forth we went offering all the things we could think of to be thankful for.

What was really fun was listening to the birdsong. An array of bird voices singing. That's what started our conversation in the first place. What do you think the birds are singing about? I asked her. I suggested that the birds were happy to have beautiful trees to sit in, worms to eat, new babies and a song to sing. She listened and listened.

Every time I am able to be with a grandchild to talk about such beautiful things I am ecstatic with joy. Tender hearts and minds hear better, respond better than weary hearts too busy living daily life. Knowing that you are the author of such communication, I know you are always the third party in the conversation. I am blessed.

Hear my heart
beating with joy,
O Lord,
for my joy
is always directed
toward you.
So much
around me
speaks of your presence
in the world.
To sit
in a chair
on my porch
with my grandchild
talking about you
is one of life's
greatest joys.
Thank you.

Always yours, Andrea

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Dearest God,

Lord, I am always asking myself, "What does it take to change a human heart?" I got one of my answers today. Service to others.

Twenty one members of our congregation went to Colorado to serve others and they came back changed. Their joy and enthusiasm were remarkable. Couple that with four members who are going to Lima, Peru to change their own lives along with hundreds of others. Together they made for an extraordinary service today.

How I have longed for this spiritual vitality! To watch with great glee your transforming power, knowing the ways in which you work, the gentle nudges, the "pulling up" and and settling down, the call to action, the whispers from heaven, the song of devotion all serve to change the human heart. My own heart is inspired every time I see what is happening. My greater joy comes in the kind of congregation I will hand over to someone else next year. They will be ready for much, much more by that time. What they will do for you is not yet able to be calculated. Hallelujah to you, Great and Glorious God!

While I am observing your life-changing power in others, I am aware that my own heart is always in need of change. I am still a work in progress, knowing that it is your hand that massages my own heart. All of me still needs changing for I want that challenge that keeps me at the edge wanting more of you, along with a desire to be more fully your servant in service to the world.

How I give
you thanks,
Most Holy One.
I can only
sing you
a song of praise.
My devotion
bubbles up
when I think
of your purpose
in my life.
Unworthy as I am,
I take joy
in your trust
in me.
Keep me
from failing you
for I do not want
one moment
to slip by
without serving you
in love.
Forgive my shortcomings,
my pettiness,
my loss of vision,
my sin,
I pray.
Make me
more like you.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Dear God,

I can't go out in the heat anymore so I find a way to enjoy the early morning air. I step outside, breathe in, then allow my eyes to wander, finding the beauty of purple Russian Sage, orange and yellow day lillies, white daisies, and trees of varying varieties and size. I look out and imagine the Garden of Eden, its sweet fragrance and rare beauty. I think of how it all ties together.

The other day I bought a wicker chair and put it on my front porch. Always wanting to guard my time with you and time with myself I have always stayed on the back porch or patio but I decided I needed to move to the front. I sit in the chair and watch the sun come up. Amazing!

On a day off I love to sit and look out the window at my contemplative garden. Its radiant beauty just gives me such joy. It grows just like you called it to do and I watch the buds and blossoms blow in the wind. I am always astonished as the garden goes dormant in the winter but then in the Spring grows up with fervor. All summer long it graces me with such awesome beauty.

On a day when I'm not feeling well, I gain so much by living in my House of Blessing. The rich, lush landscape just adds to my spirit of thanksgiving. I am blessed.

Loving you
with my whole heart
returns joy
to me.
I seek you
and listen
only to find
joy staring me
in the face.
Joy goes out;
joy comes in.

So grateful, Andrea

Friday, July 18, 2008

Dear God,

You gave me rest, nearly 24 hours of sleep. You were about restoring my body and I have rested, finding my strength again in you. Trust can allow so much to happen.

Every day you teach me about the inner life. You show me the way to happiness is not by accumulating and counting my possessions or success, rather you keep me close to you like a new baby remains close to its mother. You whisper your love, touch my inner parts of soul and spirit and show me the way home.

A life lived intentionally with faith at the center is a life lived daily with you. What would even one day be like without you? Why would I want it? I know how to live my own life, but I choose a life divinely lived, calling upon my own Creator for substance and direction. I am not unflawed, nor perfect. I am way off center. At the same time I long to live for you, to be purposeful, living a life planned at my beginning.

Rather than focusing on the television to fill my mind with all sorts of trivia, I choose instead a life of quiet that allows me to hear you when you call my name. Sure I watch an occasional movie but more than anything I want the communication with you to be open. For so long I did not make room for you. I would break any silence so as not to hear your voice. It was too scary to think about. But you kept calling my name and one day I heard you and I wanted to keep hearing you.

I rest in the knowledge of your great love for the creation and all your creatures. I see the signs of that great love daily and my heart swells in love for you and your creation. In such moments only praise can come from my lips.

Praise to you,
my Creator.
I offer you
my praise
and thanksgiving.
Let me always
be aware
of your surroundings
around me.
May I pick up
on small nuiances
and speak
your name.
I long
for you.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Dear God,

My hip exploded with pain as I stood at a store simply holding two blinds, one that started to slip and I leaned to pick it up. It sucked the air right out of me. And while I worked to breathe in air, I simply wondered if my body was failing me.

After using cold compresses, meditation and prayer, I finally had to drive to the hospital for relief. Holed up in the waiting room for two and a half hours, tears slid down my face as pain radiated from my hip and back. I wondered what I could expect from my body that has increasingly experienced difficulty.

Such times in recent weeks have kept me at your door knocking. I have not questioned why as much as what do I do as parts fall apart? I want not to be a whiner or to draw attention to myself. I simply want to care for my body as I need to remaining completely trusting you. I know we do not come with incorruptible parts. I am aware that the aging process takes a toll on the human body. I am 61.

As I look into your eyes when something physically is challenging me, I see your love holding me. I try to make peace each time. I want to trust even as I enter the time of dying. I want words of faith and trust to be on my lips as I live my final days. Not that I believe I am in those days, far from it; however, I have a somewhat fragile system and I must properly and lovingly care for this body given me at creation. I simply want my love and devotion for you to be completely intact as I respond to each occasion of difficulty. I want to live in joy.

As the doctor checked me out and gave me pain medicine, I realized again the fragility of life promised at the beginning but never for how long. I recognize my own need to stay in touch, to grow my roots deeper, to trust more, to live carefully and fully a life of faith. That is my most earnest desire.

Blood pulses
through my being
because you have
destined it for me.
I have breath
because you have
breathed your air
into me.
I love
because you put
your own heart
within me
so that
I could love you
and others.
I smile
and laugh
because you have put me
on the earth
to bring joy
to the earth
and to your people.
Let me live
as you have chosen;
let me die
as one well lived.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dear God,

Scary things can happen at night. Like goblins on the attack, we can feel afraid, as if fear had greater power than quiet peace.

Two nights ago, I had a goblin at my door, Lord. I heard the monster knocking, felt its tentacles wrapping around my neck. I knew I could give in, give up, surrender to that all-encompassing fear. I tossed around my options wondering what to do. Finally I decided to give in to you. I whispered quietly in my spirit. "I am blessed. I am blessed. I am blessed." A mantra of faith and joy came to me. I fell asleep in your arms in the quiet peace that initially had evaded me.

I am becoming more and more aware of my own limitations. I cannot always control my own environment, my own health. Situations that never bothered me before now are full of risk for me. I have to be very careful. I have to know my environment, make a plan if I run into trouble. I have to make very good choices and decisions. I am no longer free to do whatever. I have to weigh the risk and cost before I leap.

While in the past I could have pouted, been irritated, disturbed, or angry, now I am choosing to embrace this new level of life. This choice comes with trust at its core. What I can no longer do does not plague me, leaving me seriously impaired. Rather, it challenges me to draw closer to you, to live closer to you, to walk close beside you, not so far away. A breath between us helps me to feel less afraid, more secure and joy-filled. Grace is the ground I walk because I know I am blessed.

I am blessed
because you have
blessed me.
You are
my blessing.
Your blessing
lives inside me,
often bursting
out of me,
shining for others
to see.
Not for any kind
of adoration
or "look at me",
but rather
a smiling example
of God inside,
coming out
like fireworks
on Independence Day.
What can I say,
my beloved God?

Wholly loving you, Andrea

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Dearest God,

Strangers become friends when they are seated together at the table of Christ. We were Roman Catholic, United Church of Christ, Episcopal, African Methodist Episcopal and United Methodist. We had a common purpose, to listen to the voices of pastors and their churches talk about their hopes and dreams for the future. By evening sitting at yet another table (a new Brazilian steakhouse restaurant) with 15 others like us, we laughed and teased, sometimes guffawing. When we gathered the next morning we were still laughing, full of friendship and food from the night before.

Most likely we would not have come across one another. We would not have stopped and asked, "Would you like to be my friend?" We would not have found ourselves at someone's table talking about the future of the people called the church. We would not have prayed or shared slices of our life. Yet, gathering at your table changed everything.

If I really and truly wanted to live a full life of faith, I would awaken in the morning with an expectancy at what you would bring into my day. I would know that you had a destiny for me and part of that destiny would unfold that very day, and then the next day and the next. I would hush my mind, gently kneel by my bed or altar and breathe your life-giving air, awaiting your guidance or direction or even a prayer that would come to my heart or mind. I would smile, anticipating our time together.

Who could guess
that so much wonderfulness
could come
my way?
Who could imagine
the joys
and blessings
that would be mine?
Who could anticipate
heaven parked
at my door?
Who could?

Loving you, Andrea

Monday, July 14, 2008

Dearest God,

Joy was at the table. Friends, a family gathered around the table to brainstorm, think and share ideas. We laughed and teased. We thought through solutions to a budget challenge. By the end of the meeting we had come to some conclusions, together. The church at work.

For three years we have been ascending the mountain, raising our eyes to heaven, looking for a way to climb yet higher. And surprisingly, joyously we have continued our trek. What began as a handful of the faithful became a much larger community, your family commited to you, desirous of pleasing you, serving you, giving ourselves in deeper and more meaningful ways.

We have walked out of the darkness into the light of your day. We huddled together, bonding in a way we could not have imagined at first. But we all wanted to get to the top together. We wanted to share the joy together, reach the goal line as one body, feel the pulse of a people pulling for one another, lifting one another up, feeling the tug as one wanted at the top. Such journeys can be laborious, difficult work and at some junctures it has been. But when so many want to walk together, making a common pilgrimage, I know something wonderful is happening.

I'm smelling the fragrance of the journey, seeing the joy in eyes all around me. One people meeting you at the top, in awe, in joy.

Wondrous God,
joining you
along the way,
feeling your presence
as a people,
not just a solitary moment
is worth
the church's weight
in gold.
I was asked
to lead the way
and I have.
But some
are doing
what you asked them
to do,
taking their turn
in the lead.
What a sight,
so beautiful,
a breathtaking display
of wonderment.

Always grateful, Andrea

Sunday, July 13, 2008

My dearest God,

Where in any other church is there as much joy as there is in ours? We have a beautiful spirit, one that manifests itself in so many ways through hospitality, service, love, faith and mission. We extend not only our hand but also our hearts to one another. Joy bubbles in our service.

I prayed that one day we would be like we are. I prayed that we would become sincere, loving people whose faith is ever growing, a people who live inspired lives, sharing generously with your church and community. I prayed that we would smile more often and reach out to our neighbor, even the stranger sitting nearby. I prayed for an explosion of your spirit.

As my time is winding down with less than a year to go, I am spending more time in gratitude for this wonderful flock, sheep of your own pasture. My guidance is more in growing their spirit and teaching them the ways of sharing it with others. Without that what good is the church? I pray for them mostly daily.

I'm reflecting on their willingness to grow their individual spirits. I see some soaring in the heavenlies, those who have thrown their will to the wind of your spirit. I see their joy, their anticipation of where God is leading them. I see their openness to grow in ways beyond anything they ever imagined in their lives. I see the twinkle of your spirit within them. And what joy that gives me.

I have hope for the church, not only the one to whom I have been called to serve, but also your universal church. I know that there are those who have lost hope in the institutional church, who have turned away from daily faith, and stopped praying. But I also know that the spirit alive within your people called the church can revitalize others in the world, in the small corners where people live and need to know that God still exists. The joy that bubbles within our church doesn't stay there. It streams out our church every Sunday. It goes home with folks and to their workplace. And when they run out, they come back for more. Great plan.

Let your joy
flow in us,
Great River
of Spirit.
Your joy
is like no other.
Plunge us
into a deeper well
that we
may know you
in the depths.
Let your joy
flow in us,
Great River
of Spirit,
now and forever.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Dearest God,

Following simple leads keep me connected to you. The rain coming down made it possible to sit outdoors on the screened in porch to do grant application readings. When the rain stopped and it became very muggy, I moved indoors. When I was invited to join family members at a pool a couple miles away I stayed home because of the heat. Listening and following, I have found, has made me a gentle follower.

I have a wonderful zest and zeal for life. I know I am blessed, have been all my life. I have seen the creation through eyes of wonder. The smallest thing can titillate my soul. Ants building an ant hill with a trail of worker ants carrying food can cause me to pray in thanksgiving for the order and wonder of it.

I love to do so many things. I love the outdoors, the sun and water. I enjoy being with family. I love a good walk in the rain. My usual spontaneous self can find enjoyment in almost anything and feel it was a spiritual adventure.

But these days of my life are changing, not my love for them but the way I spend them. While in the past I would adventure out at the drop of a hat, these days I listen more to you. I have to listen more to my body. I used to live life through an open door. Now I have to be careful how much I open the door. Now I live in a body that can awaken dead tired or mostly refreshed. I never know. I can have energy one minute and none the next. I never know what will happen when. I live in a time of unknowing. My ability to physically adjust is compromised. I can't do it sometimes not because I don't want to but because I'm not capable. And so I rely more on your gentle nudges. I must listen or run into trouble.

I am still a free spirit. Although my family gathers to have a great time together around a pool and I can't be there because of health problems, I do not moan and complain, feel sad and discouraged. I am learning to breathe in you. I take into stride my limitations and feel your blessing. Sitting quietly, listening to you gives me the opportunity to know you better. My free spirit is rallying around you instead of wandering off in other directions.

I realize I have come to a new juncture in my life, one that changes how I am, not who I am. My prayer is that these days and years of my life will be a taming of my once fast-paced "do it all" life. I want to listen more, do less of my own will, and follow you.

Whisper to me,
O Great God,
whisper to me
your will.
Bend my will
to yours.
Like a young sapling
who bends
in the wind,
teach me.
Let your breath
be the air
that moves me.
Help me
to be flexible,
able to move
at your will.
Move me,
Lord,
move me
to do your will.

Love, Andrea

Friday, July 11, 2008

Dear God,

I couldn't go to the pool today because my health wouldn't permit it. I'd wither into a pool myself. But the cousins got together. Not possible a long time ago. But there they were...Jill, Jenni, Noele, and Angie and their children, the next level of cousins coming to know and enjoy one another so much. Although I couldn't join them, I did whisper prayers of thanksgiving.

The coming together of a family long separated from one another is a remarkable and beautiful thing. The wonder of it all, the surprise of released angers and disappointments making it all possible without even knowing it was happening makes it all the more awesome. Everyone had something they were upset about. But somewhere through the years it appears the harborings were released, let go, surrendered into the universe, into your hands where you transformed them into potential possibilities. All that opened new entryways into our spirits where silently we longed for one another. We wanted to return to days of joy, of fun, teasing, laughter and sharing.

The events of the last months have been leading to this day. One cousin has moved to our town. That means her sister and two brothers and mother will be coming to visit. We'll see each other often. My own daughters are thrilled to have their family back. Everyone keeps saying, "Wasn't it wonderful to be together?" And now around the neighborhood pool, they sit sharing their lives, remembering, making a future. And I am left to pray in gratitude.

Angie, Noele,
Jill, Jenni,
Lexi, Zach,
Gabrielle, Lucy, and Rylan,
Sophie and Stella,
they don't even know
they are evidence
of your presence
in the world.
They sit unobtrusively
in the sun,
chatting away,
laughing with one another.
Healing, reconciliation,
grace, joy, and peace
sit today
around the pool.

You are so wonderful, Andrea

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Dear God,

Having a vision for the future can drive a person to do things that will unlock the door to something great. What you have done for me is widen my vision for your presence in the context of helping others.

We're going to orchestrate another mission event in our church. What I "see" is a vision of happy people sharing together around a meal and merriment. I see items given out of love become the springboard of sharing that same love with others needing it. I see the door opening to a wider understanding of who we are and what we can accomplish together in your name.

Sometimes we think pretty small. We can't see ourselves doing BIG things, really BIG things. So we settle for small, sometimes tiny. But when we do something bigger, we shock ourselves. We can't hardly believe it. We get so excited!

But I remember thinking about people in the bible who thought really big. Paul thought of storming the whole world with Christ. He found his way to them through great difficulty and no small amount of harm to himself. Peter, John, the disciples and apostles, even newly converted souls thought big.

We need to blow the door off the church! We need to allow BIG to enter. We don't have to be afraid. It's your work, your inspiration, your presence and your promise that you will do great things through us. We need to let out all the stops, interrupting all the obstacles and barriers we have put in our way. We need to just let you do what you want through us!

When I pick up an item at a local store to donate to the church, I see mission. I see hope for someone. I see love extended to someone who may not feel loved. I see a bridge to a bigger tomorrow. I see Christ, your son. I see you at work. I feel blessed, encouraged, loved to participate in so wondrous an activity that someone called "good news." I feel overwhelmed with all the grace given to me and those I love including the church. I see joy, joy in you, in one another and in those we will help with dollars made. I see faith happening in common ways not only in a church building but in a Meijer store or Target or somewhere else. I know I'm riding on your wave with intentionality and I know you are making a difference in me and those to whom I extend my hand. Yes, a simple item can boggle my mind in service.

Wondrous, Loving God,
how simple
is life
when we trust
in you.
How my faith grows
when I
simply give you
my hand.
My hand,
my heart,
my soul
and mind.
Giving myself
to you
means giving myself
to the world
because you
desire it.
Most Holy,
keep my feet
on solid ground
but keep
my soul
soaring
in the heavenlies
with you.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Dearest God,

What wonders you reveal, O Lord! It was nearly 11:00 p.m. at a local hospital when I heard a familiar voice call out my name. I turned to find a woman I had not seen for nearly sixteen years. We hugged and then she introduced me to her daughter who was waiting to be seen in the emergency room. I looked at this beautiful young woman who I had not seen since I last held her in my arms as a newborn infant.

A couple from my church had trouble conceiving a child. We had prayed for them. Then one day my teenage daughter came home and told me one of her friend's young sister was expecting. Too young to be a mother, she planned as a loving gift to give her baby up for adoption. I called the childless couple to talk about their openness to adoption. They talked and then called me back. "I might have a baby for you." I told the couple. They were thrilled. I worked with an attorney from our church and the other family to see what could be done. Everything fell into place.

I remember so well the room where we all gathered. The mother sat holding her baby. The mother's parents sat nearby. The adopting couple and the attorney sat on the other side. I sat in the middle. I talked about the meaningful work of God in the coming together of the great event. We held hands and prayed together. The papers were signed and the baby was given to me. After blessing this beautiful child, I handed her to the new parents. There was hardly a dry eye in the room.

And now this infant turned young woman sat before me. And I thought back, remembering your amazing grace for all those who sat in that room many years ago. What blessing!

Loving you
is so easy.
Remembering
your work,
seeing once again
your fingerprints
on human lives
just makes
my faith
grow richer and deeper.
Those who reject you
for whatever reason,
those who cannot believe
for whatever reason,
those who turn away
for whatever reason
miss the most amazing
creative work
in the cosmos.
Sightings and signs
of your presence
pop up everywhere.
For whatever reason
I have eyes
to see it,
miss a lot
I am sure,
but still
I see
divine evidence
of your coming.
Tonight
I breathed
a prayer
of thanksgiving
to you
for this young woman
and the blessing
that is hers,
her parents,
her other parents,
yours and mine.
Glory to you, Lord.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

My dearest God,

A willingness to trust you in all things paves the way for new levels of faith. I have learned even in recent months that listening for your word in every situation and then following that word can lead to greater things of the spirit.

A not so recent conflict in the church lead some people to leave the church and with them, of course, their gifts of talent and resources. I think there were some that thought we could not make it through a rocky time. What they did not know was that no church is built on a few, including the pastor.

A church who is truly following your lead, humbling herself in trust and obedience is one who will ultimately do your will. It is scary to let go, to trust you in all things. The temptation is to quickly pick up the lead and do what the head tells us to do. Take charge, get things under control, make hard decisions, follow them, move forward at all costs. But that's not the way it works when you are in charge. Sometimes you do the impossible. Sometimes you bring someone new into the equation. Sometimes you shuffle things up a bit. Sometimes you bring a new burst of your spirit that seems to erupt out of nowhere. Sometimes you fill us with surprises.

A recent meeting at the church was held. Just a few months ago at another meeting of the same people fear was in our voices and on our faces. We all prayed, trusted, listened, followed. Our worst fears did not come to pass because we followed you, watched you at work and we still are being surprised.

We conducted our meeting with the sweet assurance only you can give. We teased one another. We counted the cost. We celebrated what we have been able to do. And we all believe we have been able to go forward because you have been present with us. It appears the storm has fizzled, the gray clouds lifted and the sun has come out to warm us.

The older I get, the more I trust, the greater my commitment to wait, listen and follow, the more I realize how vital it is to have a strong faith, the kind that runs through everything in life. It's not about a little pocket of faith we use when we walk into church and then discard it like the napkin we used during fellowship time. It's really about allowing your spirit to have its way, to permit it to move into us like the breath we breathe, no longer being able to clearly define the limits of faith and self will. It all becomes one, a living, breathing, trusting unit of love.

I believe you are having your way. I believe you are gently moving into people's hearts in ways like never before. I believe that you are smiling, teaching us new levels of trust and humility. I believe we are living your plan for us. I believe.

I believe,
every song
should begin
with I believe.
I believe
in you,
in your powerful love.
I believe
in you,
in your wondrous grace
so undeserved
yet freely given.
I believe
in you,
in your strength
of purpose,
your desire
for your church.
I believe
in you.

Loving you now and always, Andrea

Monday, July 7, 2008

Dearest God,

You have taught me many lessons, one that there are some doors you can only walk through once or twice and never again. I once thought that when the door was opened that there could be limitless visits.

You lead me to the desert mountain in New Mexico in 2005. Surfing for a retreat center in New Mexico, you took me to Christ in the Desert. You gave me a renewal opportunity and I followed you into the desert. Living on the mountain for several days gave me a chance to let go of obstacles and barriers in my life. My task in the desert was the work of surrender. Two times I wandered there, I engaged in surrender. The third time I realize now was to open the door to others. And now I am being called to surrender once again. I can never return again to the mountain. My learnings on the desert mountain have shown me that a life of obedience is better than a life of limitless visits to places I love.

A visit to my doctor with concerns shut the door on my future pilgrimages to the mountain. I can't return. I felt sad as I sat in his office. I came to more fully accept the delicacy of my health.

As I drove home, I felt heavy, my heart sinking. And then you spoke to me of obedience, of trust, of listening and acting upon your will. You have told me time and time again that life is not about doing whatever you want, but rather waiting and listening and following your lead, being purposeful about life, intentional, living the life of faith in the midst of every situation and condition. It is knowing that you have a purpose for each person and accepting the challenge.
Some of us open doors, others lead people through the experience while others reap the benefits of joy in participating in the lives of those around them.

Clearly I am a door opener. That is my life's purpose. I have been made to open doors of faith to others. I open the door to God, to ways of the Spirit, to a higher level of life, to the wonders awe and majesty of God. You have designed me to open doors for you. And although I open a door, more often than before will not go through the door to join those whose doors I have opened.

On my third visit to the mountain that I love, when I left the others behind whom I had brought to the mountain, I felt the sense that it was right for me to leave after just one night. I did not have to be present to enjoy their spiritual pilgrimage, to watch their AHA moments, to take them by the hand. That was the work of others, not me. I could not then and not now open doors, take seekers by the hand, walk with them, guiding them along the way. I had to let that go and not hinder someone else from doing their spiritual work.

My plans to lead others to the mountain, to lead retreats in New Mexico, to soar to greater heights in the spirit in that enchanted, mystical land have been changed because you have changed them. I thought you had opened the door to me allowing me to lead others there and I will. I just won't be present because that is your will for me.

Learning to step aside, to wait instead of jumping ahead, to listen instead of talking has been sometimes painful, a loss to be sure, but when I am willing to sit quietly in your presence, to learn from you, to do as you ask, I find the Spirit so much sweeter.

In the quiet moments of this writing, I know my blessings. I have wandered in the Spirit for 61 years starting I can remember very early in my life. You have lead me to spiritual heights I could never have climbed alone. You have shown me signs of the divine. You have placed my feet on holy ground. You have walked me to people who have spoken your word to me, the Carmelites, the saints, a godly grandmother, and so many others. You put a song in my heart a long time ago and I sing it every time I follow you in adoration. What more could I want?

Beloved God,
at your feet
I learn humility.
I learn
the ways
of truth
and obedience.
I learn
that love
shows its face
in so many ways.
I learn
that to listen
is always better
than to talk
with you.
I learn
that your ways
are different
than mine,
but I want
my ways
to be more
your ways.
You are
the love
of my life.
At your feet,
I wait.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Dear God,

The reunion nearly over, many family members came to my church (not really my church but you know what I mean). I've never had so many relatives gather to worship together since Grandma died. And there they were sitting together, singing, praying, listening. Someone asked me if I was nervous. I answered. "I'm completely calm and happy."

My two sisters didn't speak for about 15 years. They sat together, sang together. I looked out at them and my heart was so full I thought I would explode.

Family just kept arriving, one after the other, two late, four later and four even later. But they were there, I'm sure to join me but also to be with each other, yet another "activity" to participate in. Twenty five of them.

Funny. The theme of the day was Peace. The songs: Peace like a River, Peace in the Valley, Let There be Peace, all planned long before I knew our family would join in worship. St. Paul talking about peace with God. Ours was a family at peace.

I preached, felt so comfortable in my skin, so contented, so in love with you for your reconciling work. And then I went behind the altar, lifting up the bread and wine, a broken body for a broken people, for a family just like mine. I stepped down to the aisle and my family began to come, one after the other. My aunt had tears dripping down her cheeks, "Oh Andy, this is such an honor." She told me as she took the bread and juice. "I love you." My other aunt said as she partook. My sister who stayed away from the family for more than 15 years stood in front of me and reached out her hand for some of that life-giving bread. My cousin and I smiled at one another as tears welled in our eyes. Oh how hungry she has been for you for so many years since the betrayal in her family. And my little second cousin (not really little, she's 44) broken from years of hurt stepping forward, knowing this drink is the only drink for those who want healing. My 84 year old uncle with his palsied hand from Parkinson's taking bread (I couldn't hold back the tears, this identical twin of my father who walks and talks just like him) simply said "thank you, Andy." A nephew broken himself in so many ways returning to church lifting the bread and juice to his mouth, "thank you, Aunt Lynn." They came, each one delivered from pain and sorrow and loss. They came and received you, a tribute to your power of love.

Most Wondrous and Gracious God,
my heart
is so filled
with gratitude
and joy.
The miraculous
has unfolded
in our family.
And your peace
enveloped,
envelopes us now.
We can call
each other.
We can e-mail
one another.
We can tease
one another.
We can laugh
with one another.
We can share
with one another
with no pain.

Yours forever, Andy

Saturday, July 5, 2008

My dearest God,

I heard their words once again, voices I used to love hearing. Our grandparents had each written a letter to my new nephew more than 30 years ago. My brother asked me to read them to the group who had gathered for our reunion. "...the Lord gave him to you and I want you to thank the Lord and raise him to love the Lord..." Grandma's voice, so much does it sound like her, living a life of gratitude, loving you, celebrating, giving thanks. And Grandpa "...be proud of our name. May it carry on from generation to generation. When Gabriel blows the trumpet, we will be on the front row."

I grew up with these voices, voices that urged us all to live in faith. You gave us cousins grandparents whose lives were devoted to Christ. And now we were seated in a big circle sharing our lives with one another after so many years. Grandma would have been so happy. She prayed for all of us every day, knelt down by her bed and said each one of our names aloud. "Marti, Donna, Helen, Andy..." When I heard my own name spoken to God, chills ran down my spine.

We've been a broken, fractured family for a long time, Lord, but you healed us, fixed our hearts and minds, corrected and adjusted us, making us ready for a time together, a reconciling time. And how we have laughed, teased, played games, and remembered, oh how we have remembered. Little things like hiding pies and forgetting where they were, running through the muddy stream and losing a shoe when we saw a snake, stepping on ants and upsetting the little girl next door, tearing my hose when I got a little runner and laughing like crazy, playing Pig (the silliest, shortest game in the world), my dad and uncle cheating at Rook, Helen never having to help clean up after meals and Brenda always being in the bathroom because she didn't like to clean up. Small things that set off laughter in a family who has not laughed together in so many years.

For hours we talked to each other after playing a special game my brother made up called "Name That Hughes." Fifty five family questions designed to share memories from the past. And did we share.

Not possible. This was not possible years, months, maybe even weeks ago. But through your wondrous grace and healing power, you took 57 relatives whose hearts you have softened, whose minds you have cleared, whose spirits you have released and you moulded us together once again. Miraculous and oh so wonderful, powerfully so.

The power
of love
is amazing.
We found
our love,
at least
those of us
who had lost it.
We found it
in you.
We each
had to make our way
to you
to discover it
once again.
Perhaps a love
for ourselves
as we were
finding love
from you,
picking up love
for our family.
I felt
my own heart
welling up
so many times,
more love,
more love,
and more love
for those
I had failed
to love
or was too hurt
or too scared
to love.
Too angry.
There were
no remnants,
no leftovers
of resentment
or bitterness.
They are gone now,
really gone.

So grateful, so very grateful, Andrea

Friday, July 4, 2008

Dearest God,

We all got together, a first in more years than any of us can remember. A family fractured to the core, now reconciled, laughing, teasing, playing together. Little cousins saying to one another, "I've got so many cousins."

A miracle. It's a miracle, a miraculous event planned, orchestrated, and played out by your hand. This family gathering has happened not because someone died, but because we are alive. The golden strands that pulled us together were made in heaven. First this one, then another, and yet another until somehow we found our hearts longing for one another. We let go, released, surrendered past hurts and disappointments, all the wrongs; we just allowed them to dissipate...finally, making it possible for just such a gathering.

Lord, how did you do it? How did you soften our hearts? How did you cause us to let go of those things that were so hurtful? How did you massage our spirits making ourselves willing do things differently? How did you make us one again, in spirit and in love?

Someone once said that there are some things too broken to be repaired. Yet, you mended us, repaired those injured, wounded parts of our hearts. You made it possible for healing to occur, making way for the greatest hurt of all - our separateness from one another - to be healed, allowing us to be family again. Only a reunion of spirits, of heart, of love, and joy could return us to one another and to you.

Although we couldn't stay for the grand celebration of fireworks, we were partying in our hearts, a celebration of great proportion, an event worthy of praise to our Creator and our Remaker.

You have remade us.
You have
put within us
the capacity
to love one another
again.
You have given
us the desire
to put away
the weapons
we used
to keep ourselves
separate from
one another.
You have sealed
our love
for one another
with a seal
from heaven.
How could we ever
tear ourselves apart
from one another
ever again?
Who could rip
the divine seal
of heaven?

Loving you, Andrea

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Dear God,

Keep me close. May I wander in the world today reflecting upon your promise of glorious presence. May I know I am never alone. May I reflect your light and grace. May I mirror what I know in my heart and spirit to be the One true God.

In this changing time may I know that some things never change: the constancy of your love, the possibility of your peace, the glorious hope in Christ, the power of your spirit for every day living.

Wondrous Living God,
I long
to sit at your feet,
to breathe in
the air
of spirit expectancy.
My little world
created by my own hands
is small
and tempted by fear.
But yours
is wide open,
as wide
as the plains,
as expansive
as the skies
over the plains
and beyond.
Beautiful Savior,
you have rescued me
from the deep
once again.
You have shown me
the way
to divine trust.
You have pointed me
in the right direction.
I have walked
the sacred path
in time of temptation,
of fear
and anguish.
You have shown me
the better way.
Leaning, leaning
into you
is what my heart desires.
Let my heart
join your rhythm,
my feet too.
Let me stand
at the intersection
of faith
and call
your name.

Loving you, Andrea

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Dear God,

I drove halfway around the city yesterday to find a spiritual home. My Carmelite sisters are gone, made their way to Oldenburg, home to the Franciscans. My drive left me at the doorway to the Benedictines.

My covenant group met in a very small room. We honored silence, listened to a devotion, and I shared. I looked up at the hammered bronze tin cross and looked over my shoulder at the white dove carrying the symbol of peace. We talked quickly about our meeting place the next few weeks. Decided this was okay but we would change our meeting day so we could join in morning prayer with the sisters.

It's not home yet, although I found some potential. It's temporary for me. I have only one more year to engage in a living relationship with two colleagues of faith.

Sometimes, Lord, the change is uncomfortable. I miss my sisters. In fact last Sunday I dared to walk down the aisle at the big cathedral in Santa Fe to receive Holy Communion. Ordinarily I would honor their tradition and live by their rules but on that day I wanted to be in union with my sisters who I knew were sharing in their last Sunday worship. I wanted to be united with them in the common bread. When someone questioned me about it later in the day, I told them I went down for communion because I have a catholic heart. I'm not talking denomination as much as I am universality.

Sometimes I step into new arenas looking for the possibility of newness, a new setting, a new experience, a new heart. Although I don't always know the importance of the "new", I do know the value of experiencing it with you. I don't want to ever leave you behind or fail to show up where you are leading me.

Teach me,
Lord,
teach me.
Keep me
within a hand's reach
always reminding me
never to wander
too far away.
In this new time
may I not be afraid,
always reckoning
with the fact
that I can never really
walk away.
Keep the edges
of my heart
always soft
to new settings
and experiences
and people.
Only you
can settle my heart
teaching me again
to trust utterly.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Dearest God,

Reconstruction. Wherever I look there is reconstruction taking place, renovation or renewal of roadways that are designed to make lives simpler, safer, more efficient and happier. Sometimes I get annoyed or irritated when I have to take one detour and then another, not sure where I will end up or if I will arrive where I want to be.

But then I'm looking around me and I realize I'm running into reconstruction in the church. Lives are being reconstructed right before me. People who are malleable, willing to be remoulded, reshaped, refashioned in a new way. Although at times it is painful, sometimes just a joy-filled process, I see that things are changing.

I'm sixty one. I look at newspapers that have collected while I was gone. When I do a quick scan, I see how the world is changing. A transgender man is pregnant. Technology is changing the way we do things. Our values and philosophy of life are going through a metamorphosis. I don't know that I like it. However, it is the way it is.

The reconstructive process of the human soul is a spiritual activity. Every time I give myself up into your hands, I am being reconstructed. I allow your hands to reshape me, just like a Potter reshapes a lump of clay. Sometimes I enjoy the changing shape. Other times I am afraid, while other times are just opportunities to reflect upon my need for change.

Reconstruction is all around me. I can either take this as a sign of the times, see it as an activity driven by your hand or I can see it as a scary process ready and waiting to pounce on me at any moment when I'm not looking. Trusting you are guiding this process gives me hope.

Sometimes
I feel that push
that gentle nudging
that changing process
taking place
within me.
Sometimes I like it,
other times
not so much.
I am learning
to trust
your hands
reshaping my mind
or renewing
my soul
or calling
into question
my spirit's activity.
O Lord,
make me malleable,
willing to go
and grow
with the spirit's flow.
I want
to know
it is your hand
that holds me,
not someone else's.
Peace
rises in my soul
as I think
you are part
of my own creative process.

Love to you, Andrea

Monday, June 30, 2008

Dearest God,

All roads lead to you. Every path turns and twists ultimately leading to your feet.

These days away for retreat and education have been days when following you were the only option. An intentional decision, a deep awareness, a desire of the heart, a willingness in the soul to listen, to put one step in front of the other constantly looking for signs of your own print led me always to you.

I walked into the dining room carrying a bag of heavy stuff to be distributed among those who had space in their suitcase. But on top were the elements of faith...the juice and the bread, my bible and sheets of paper. As I cleared the table for five, it was transformed into an altar. I asked the server if we could use one of the candles. She climbed up on a chair and lifted up the three wick candle and handed it to me. I lighted the candle and waited for my fellow travelers to join me.

I opened with prayer then asked each pilgrim to read seven verses from Psalm 104. Each read the words of praise designed just for you. And then I took the bread and broke it just like you did 2,000 years ago. I lifted the cup remembering the words of your son. We passed it to one another with the words "...the body of Christ, his blood..." I read a fax I had just received from Indiana. They were my own words from July 20, 2006, my letter written to you about one of my favorite shut ins. "Dear God..."

I urged my pilgrim journeyors to continue the story of faith. I had written about a woman of faith living in a broken down, bruised, old body that couldn't carry her any longer. I asked them to write down their reflections of their spiritual travel, to share it in our newsletter, to tell the world the workings of your hand. They each held a piece of paper in their hands as one read a prayer from Thomas Merton. "Tell the story," I encouraged, "keep telling the story."

I realize every day you urge us to tell the story; otherwise, it will simply die within us. Not shared, only hoarded for one's own edification, it loses its mystical power. "Tell the story and faith continues." I told them.

As I have received their own words written on the page, I once again realize the power of the story. A beautiful retelling of the "stories of Jesus." A wonder, truly, a wonder of faith.

Let me sing
the stories
of faith,
dear God.
Lead me
to sing.
Let the melodies
formed at creation
flow out of my mouth.
Sing the stories
of faith,
dear God,
sing them
through me.
May the high song
of praise
lead me
to you.

Love, Andrea