Friday, September 5, 2008

Dearest God,

We began our leave taking yesterday. After 20 years I am leaving my covenant group. Not because I have become bored or that things have become routine but rather because I am learning how to conserve my energy due to health reasons and because I know the time has come. Retirement and traveling for long periods would have changed my status in the near future, meaning that I could no longer meet the covenantal promise of weekly participation. When the Carmelites left the monastery where we met and shared fellowship, I knew my own change was not far behind.

What does one say to fellow members of a covenant group who know the deepest mysteries of my life? What words can I utter to persons who have listened to my confessions, know my soul's greatest longings and failings, and have been soulfully present to me through cancer, the loss of my parents, conflicts in my family and church, mournings of a lost daughter and the joy of her return, spiritual falls and climbs, and the transformation through losses and birthings? What can I possibly say to beloved spiritual friends?

Last week I told them the news that my health was in some ways becoming more fragile, precarious and uncertain. Although my doctor has been talking with me for three years, recent events have lead me to begin to accept some changes taking place. Because I am learning to trust you more and more and desire to ultimately fulfill your will for my life rather than my own, I am following the lead to cherish my moments, making my way to extend my life (no, I am not dying) doing what you want. The joys of my ministry even during turmoil, difficult decisions, and personal grief, I celebrate the call to serve. My last months of service I want to provide the most and best that I can, leading the congregation through transition to the next chapter of her life. In addition I want to spend more time with my family, realizing more and more how much they have sacrificed for me to live my life mainly in the church's life.

There were tears, a lot of them. My colleague desperately wants to "fix" me, making me all better. However, what I need most, I told them, was acceptance and celebration. What I have learned is that during bouts of difficulty, you have shown me how to draw into you, to rest at your side, to trust you completely, to find my peace in you. So when I am facing a health crisis, I am at the same time finding my joy in you, knowing your great compassionate love and allowing you to be my life's comfort. What more could I possibly want?

In the weeks ahead we will say a ceremonial goodbye. We will recount the wondrous gifts and blessings you have given us. We will share our gratitude to you and each other. And we will separate from one another, carrying with us the deep inner joy lodged down inside us that will live with us throughout earth's passage and into eternity.

Most Holy,

Most Gracious,

Loving God,

in your arms

I remain

singing praises

of adoration

to you.

I am not

my own.

I am yours.

I pray

these weeks ahead

will be

a rejoicing,

a time

of adoration

and worship

to you.

Loving you always, Andrea