Monday, April 6, 2009

Dearest God,

I return to St. Francis often just by movie selections I make. As a child growing up, I did not know St. Francis, the monk who gave away all his earthly possessions, living an austere life of faith, loving you and others. Known for his love of creation, the birds of the air and the animals of the field, I did not become aware of him for many years.

But he came to me a long time ago in a poster, in a picture of Assisi, Italy. I was at once drawn to the scene. I want to go there I said to myself, someday I want to go there. Perhaps twenty years passed before I made my way to him.

And now just by course I run into him frequently. I love looking out the church window seeing the statue of St. Francis. Standing at my kitchen window washing dishes I see the same statue and I feel so at peace.

This man, this saint, this pilgrim, this lover of Christ speaks deeply to my heart. He entered my world or I entered his many years ago when he came to me in a vision. I sensed his traveling spirit as he traveled with me. He was never very far away. He never directly spoke to me; yet, I seemed to know what he was thinking.

Last night I watched a very old video, one I enjoyed as a child. I loved the actors but more than that I loved the story. The Trouble with Angels is the story of two teenage girls who attend a Catholic boarding school. St. Francis stands in a prominent place at the school. Mary Clancy is a troublemaker all through her school years but she experiences a stirring in her spirit and in the end elects to become a nun.

St. Francis and faith emerge together for me, dear God. They come to me like a welcome spring rain. I feel his presence, his challenge, his love, his peace. I know that he is a sign for you, a sign of hope, of quiet trust, of tranquil peace.

While I should never be surprised by your doings, I felt your spirit even as I watched the 50- year-old movie last night. I felt the gentle urging toward the depths of faith. Once again I knew you in the depths of my soul. What a delight to gaze upon you just before I went to bed. What a quiet surprise, a wondrous joy.

My Great Companion,
how I long
to look
upon your face.
You bring me
such great joy.
But also
great challenge.
Often I get
quick peeks
at you,
sensing your presence
in my midst.
Oh Lord,
I am blessed,
not by
what I do,
but by what
you do
in me.
This gentle merging
of love,
of truth
and faith
stretches and mystifies me.
The warmth
of your spirit
wells up
within me
and I know
that I
have laid eyes
on the Master.

Love, Andrea