Friday, September 4, 2009

My dearest God,

Although I had so much to do tending a garden of weeds waiting for resurrection, I felt the call to go, to draw upon your strength, to drink in. I washed my face and hands, threw on better clothing and I drove to St. Malachy's. The church rising up out of the barren ground. I am always blessed as I catch first sight.

These early morning masses are short, maybe 30 minutes. Ritual, all ritual. I know it by heart. Although a woman, a pastor with a creative heart, I draw in so much as I sit, stand and kneel. I listen attentively to the holy readings of scripture. I gaze upon those stained glass windows that continue to feed my soul, revealing to me daily the wonders of symbol giving away signs of your living presence.

I am welcomed by you at the baptistery every time. I put my fingers in the water, making the sign of the cross on myself. I don't need a cup of living water, just a small amount on my finger quenches my soul's deepest thirst. As the mass concludes I step back, taking in your spirit one more time.

I drive away, God visible in my rear view mirror.

The images
of faith
so feed
my soul.
Although I bring
with me
my own spirit's
deep hurts
and need
for inner healing,
I open myself
to the
wonders of faith
and the joy
of reunion.

Love, Andrea