Saturday, November 28, 2009

Dear God,

Love is risky. There's so much chance for hurt and disappointment. How does one hold on to love and not be afraid?

What the world tells me about love is a far cry from what you tell me. The world says that love is temporal, here today and gone tomorrow. Get what you can! A commitment to love can be as short as the time it takes to say I love you. But your message about love is vastly different. Love is a giving of one's self, a cherished gift that offers respect, honor, affirmation and appreciation. Your kind of love offers something so much deeper and much more beautiful.

To love your way and receive that kind of love brings a sense of eternity with it. There is a sacred value of eternal love, one received from heaven and love given to those we choose to love. Who can go wrong giving and receiving this quality of love? Of what is there to be afraid?

Eternal God,
your love
never ends.
It began
in eternity
and continues.
Remind me
to seek
your love,
never being afraid
to receive it.
Teach me
how to
be secure
in your love
as I
give love
to others,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Friday, November 27, 2009

Dear God,

I hate to shop, especially in large crowds. And yet, today I shopped all day on the biggest shopping day of the year.

Something happens to me as I stand in a long line waiting to take my turn at the check out. I look all around me, people talking about the latest toys or the greatest sales or how long they've been up (one woman told another she started her day at 2 a.m.). I see full carts of toys, apparel, electronics and Christmas linens. And I wonder.

Is it all necessary? Do we really need to put more toys in the already burgeoning toy chests? Do we need to give another shirt to someone who has more than they wear now? Or pants, sweatshirts, coats, jewelry or what not? Does a person really need five televisions?

I remember shopping in December, 1997. I didn't want to go; I resisted. Yet my friend and daughter bugged me until I went. I had breast cancer and I was in no mood. I remember distinctly walking through Lazarus and feeling that the accumulation and expense of Christmas was disgusting. What is the meaning of all this? I thought to myself. Have we lost all sense of proportion? Have we forgotten the true meaning of Christmas as a religious tradition, not a yearly holiday? I felt like vomiting at all the excess.

Perhaps it is important for me to feel this dissension within my heart. Maybe I need to be in the midst of all the shopping fervor to remind myself why I exist, what I believe, what I hold dear and what my purpose really is. I need to remember that this upcoming high and holy season is a time to refresh my beliefs, recommit my loyalty, restore my heart's hope and renew my faith in you.

Let me
never forget
the true meaning
of life,
dear God.
When I
fail to remember,
challenge me
to listen
to your
still, small voice.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, November 26, 2009

My dearest God,

Why is it that food served in families for generations is so important to share at family gatherings? I am not sure I would be allowed to attend a family holiday event if I didn't make spaghetti and cheese. This year I had to make two huge pans for 15 people.

For some reason, dear God, I believe making my grandmother's spaghetti and cheese which may have even be made by her mother or grandmother, brings her back to life for me. I remember her hands, those brown age spots, hands she used to stir the lemon filling for her famous lemon meringue pie, hands that played the piano while we grandchildren sang away, hands that came together when she prayed on her knees, hands that planted the truck patch and harvested the vegetables she gave away to others, hands that stitched quilts that we now have on our beds, hands that embraced us in loving hugs.

O God, I believe every time I prepare those old time down-on-the-farm recipes my family used to make, you fill my home with all my relatives who have passed from this life to the next. I feel their essence, the love they shared, their smiles and laughter, their hugs, memories that linger year after year.

And what does all that do for me? It ultimately ushers me to your side in gratitude.

Holy God,
Ever-Living Spirit,
my heart warms,
my soul rejoices,
my eyes tear
when I reflect
upon your many
gracious gifts.
You keep alive
good memories
of the past.
You connect
the past
with the present
and my
guess is
that you are
even now
connecting this present
with the future.
How lovely
to gaze
into the future
with such gratitude.

You will always have my love, Andrea

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Dearest God,

Sophie and Gabrielle, my granddaughters stood beside me, listening to letters I have written to you about them. They wanted to hear my words about their lives, how important they are to me. Plus they were just curious about what I would say about them.

What blessing they are to me. How wonderful to read faith to them, the ways in which I have learned about you through them. What joy to share with them the matters of faith that speak directly to the heart.

Life may be complicated. It may spin out of control from time to time. It may seem like all is loss. Yet, circling around at any moment is joy ready to be released.

Whenever I want to convert my own soul from despair or doubt, I look to joy to find me. I take hold of joy's hand and allow it to lead me wherever it wants. It may be something as simple as a red leaf growing on a tree or a squirrel digging for an acorn or a grandchild's smile or a song simply sung. It can be the warmth in a room on a cold, gray rainy day.

Joy is found in blessing and blessing comes from you.

Blessed God,
I am thankful
for joy
and all
its essence.
I am grateful
to be alive
to experience
the joy
of heaven.
Hold my feet
to the ground
(unless, of course,
you want
to run
and play together)
and my head
tilted toward heaven
so that
joy will
be able
to find me.

Loving you, Andrea

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

My dearest God,

I've been learning that joy lives next door to faith which is next door to peace. Doubt, fear and despair live on another street.

I've been reading a book on joy. I don't think I have ever spent that much time reading or thinking about joy, that internal eruption of goodness, beauty, a sense that the world around me is at peace. I've found that joy is carried deep within. It is never far away and always wishes to be expressed particularly in the small moments of life.

Two days ago I heard my 4-year-old granddaughter Lucy cutting and stapling in the kitchen. I had no idea what she was doing. When she bolted into the living room, she ran to me, a smile spread wide across her face. She handed me an orange heart, two of them stapled together with three staples. "I love you." She told me. "I love you, Grandma. This is for you and Grandpa Harold."

I grabbed up that little girl and squeezed her real tight. I kissed her head as she beamed with joy. I held her as she queried me about life in general.

I never know when joy will burst into a room. I am never conscious of when joy will rise up in my soul. I don't have a clue when joy will make itself known. I just know joy is a breath away.

Joy comes
from you,
Most Gracious,
Loving Father.
Despair can
be held back
by joy;
for joy
guards the heart.
Joy is faith
trusting in you.

Love always, Andrea

Monday, November 23, 2009

My dearest God,

What does it mean to really trust you, to let go, to fall backwards in your arms, to not even hesitate to give one's own will to you?

I have spent years thinking about trust. Who do I really trust, I have asked myself through the years. Do I trust, really trust a member of my family? A friend? A church member? Do I trust a gossip, one who feels the need to know everything, then spreads what she knows? Do I trust a person who has broken a confidence? Do I trust love when my heart has been broken? Can I really trust after all?

A life without trust is like air without oxygen. What good is it? How can I relate to others if I do not ultimately trust them?

One of the life lessons I have learned is that trust is vital to any relationship especially my relationship to you. When I climbed the mountain of faith at the desert monastery, I felt stripped of my will. I felt the tearing away of my own protective wear. I was challenged to learn from you, to trust you to really lead me, to walk my faith, to love and be loved by you. You called me to trust you wholly.

As I listened, really listened to you, I came to realize that you are always to be trusted. There is nothing left to chance when I trust you. You never fail me; however, you do challenge me beyond my own comfort level. But that is exactly what you intend. What is trust if it does not challenge me beyond where I am?

In these days,
O Lord,
I am learning
from you.
I am clinging
to your hem,
knowing I
am close.
I am
trusting you
because you
are to
be trusted.
Hold me close
as I
hang on.
Lead me,
Lord,
lead me
to your destination
for my life.
I love you.

Always, Andrea

Sunday, November 22, 2009

My dearest God,

As I sat in the chapel for worship, I looked up through the huge window panes and saw the impossible. A pine tree growing out of the side of mountain rock. Not just a small, scraggly tree but what appeared to be about a 5 foot pine tree, strong, with its arms reaching out, its top standing straight and tall. I couldn't keep my eyes off it. After our final worship before leaving the desert mountain monastery, I got as close as I could and took a picture.

How could a pine tree begin growing out of rock? There had to be some kind of soil, a seed, water and enough sunshine to make it grow. But how? How was it possible? I kept thinking about it and it came to me. With God all things are possible. The impossible is possible.

How many times have I thought something was impossible only to discover that it was not? How many moments did I believe that you could not make something happen and then it did? How many seemingly miracles have occurred when it seemed nothing more could be done?

Living a life believing only in the possible is a life without faith. Doctors report miracles all the time. Hopeless people in hopeless situations discover hope. Faithless people grab hold of faith. Love erupts in loveless people. You have shown us in so many ways how the impossible is possible.

Every day I am faced with a decision whether to believe in faith, to live it, to share it. Every day I can choose to live in the world of the possible where I have the power to manipulate the elements around me or I can look up into the mountains and believe that a pine tree can come from rock.

There are no hopeless situations no matter how dire. Even martyrs who looked into the face of death held a greater power over their adversaries. Can death ultimately conquer good? Or can good grow even out of death? With God all things are possible.

O Lord,
I want
to live
my life
believing in
the impossible.
I want
to attain
a kind
of trust
that believes
all things
really are possible.
I choose
to believe
in you
who has turned
our world,
my world
upside down
and then
rightside up.
All things change;
this I know
for sure.
I cling
to faith
as a way
to live
a beautiful,
hope-filled
gracious life.
And why?
Because you are
the possibilities God.
May I never
waiver in
my faith
in you,
dearest God.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, November 21, 2009

My dearest God,

My shower gel bottle was empty; I mean e-m-p-t-y. During my flight to New Mexico the bottle had opened spilling gel into my suitcase. I only had a little to begin with. But I was determined to use it sparingly while in the desert. I ran out two days ago. I tried to pull off the top but it wouldn't budge. And then I tried getting water into the tiny pin-hole opening, but to no avail.

This morning as I walked in the cold, crisp air watching the clouds made by my breath in the darkness of the very early morning, I looked forward to a hot shower. I stepped into the shower stall, the hot water running and I remembered I had no soap. I had forgotten to get one of the small soaps from the motel although I didn't want to use it because I always give those to the church who makes hygiene kits for the homeless. I looked at my useless shower gel bottle. What to do, I asked myself after not having had a shower for two days. I put it under the water again. I tried pulling the top off again. Nothing worked. So I put my wash cloth under the water and tipped the bottle and out came gel, the size of a quarter. What a surprise! I had enough left to have the sudsiest shower I had had since coming a week ago. Wow!

That shower gel bottle caused me to reflect and celebrate. When I think I am empty, I need to look again. There's still more available. When I think there is nothing left, there is always just a bit more. Standing in the shower all sussed up, I smiled. Hope is like that. When I think I've run out of hope; there's still another dose. When I think I have used up all my trust, I've still got a portion left. When I'm all out of faith; there is still some waiting to be used. Courage is the same way. And so is love and peace.

In these last years I have frequently run out of trust, faith, hope, courage and strength. I would feel I was on my last leg. I would hang on to the rope for life only to feel the threads fraying in my hands. Yet, at the last moment when I felt all was loss and I was about to sink to a world where I could never find my way back, suddenly another portion came my way. I had a bit more. I have lived this way for the last few years.

As always I come to this desert mountain looking for something. But the last three times I have come, I have always had to surrender something. It was always good and valuable. However, in the last two or three years I have had to surrender so much, more than ever in my life. Material things, relationships, good health, attitudes, hopes and even dreams. I have felt as if I have had to surrender most of what I possessed outside and inside myself. Although extremely painful I see now it was an important process. I needed to go through the purification exercise to get down to the nubbins of who I am, what I am about, what is important and learn to trust you more in every area of my life. I have had to come face to face with myself. I haven't always liked the person in the mirror. Yet, part of the learning was to see myself for who I am, make the changes, surrender those bitter parts and trust in you to reshape and remake me for a new day, a new life, a new future.

My exile is over. I'm going home.

Loving God,
your grace
has spilled over
on me.
Your light
has shone.
Your love
has made
its way
into my heart.
You have
shored up
my weak places
and given me
a new kind
of strength
and courage.
You have
reminded me
that sometimes
we have
to climb
tall, scary mountains
to find
an extra portion
of faith.
However precarious
it is,
it is always
worth it.
Thank you
for emptiness
that lead me
to fullness.
You will always
have my love.

Always, Andrea

Friday, November 20, 2009

My dearest God,

I do not understand; I simply do not understand.

During my stay at the desert mountain monastery, I have immersed myself in the psalms both in the chanting in the daily office several times a day and also in my personal reading. I have always looked to the psalms as a source of solace, refuge and comfort. And they are. However, I have been troubled as I have read them through as a whole collection. The writer/s frequently points out the sin of the "enemy", whoever the enemy is, ie other nations, an individual, a friend turned away. Not only is the sin made glaring but the writer asks for the destruction, the torment, the eradication of the enemy, his family, his possessions, everything. Is that really the answer?

In my silence while I read and heard these diatribes about the enemy, I realized something very important. I am tomorrow's enemy, tomorrow's sinner and evildoer. When I ask for the destruction of my enemy, or my neighbor, then I am also inviting my own destruction. Everything that is said about the enemy can most generally be said about me. I am flawed; I fail to be obedient, to follow you. I hurt others; I want my own way.

When I ask for protection, like the psalmist, sometimes without knowing it I am requesting protection from my own self. When I seek the way of the world, when I refuse to listen to you, to be watchful of my thoughts and actions, and to silence my tongue when I want to strike out against those who have harmed me, I am no different than my enemy. I forget that my enemy is made from the same fabric as I. We are part and parcel of one another. To tear away my enemy is tear away a part of the fabric that is me. Nothing is beautiful anymore because we are more together than apart. If I rid myself of my enemy today and a part of the fabric is torn, then what about tomorrow's enemy and the next day? What will happen to the fabric then? What will be left to celebrate?

The enemy is me. My salvation comes when I pray for my enemy and my enemy prays for me. Together we create an exquisite fabric from which your glory can shine.

My enemy
and I
are one.
Teach me
the way
of rising
to the
highest calling.
My enemy
and I
need to bow
at the altar
to pray
for one another.
We both
need redemption,
salvation not only
from our sin
but from ourselves.
You are
the Mighty God,
the only one
powerful enough
to change
and transform humanity.
Help me
to love
my enemy
because in loving
my enemy,
I better learn
to love myself.

Love always, Andrea

Thursday, November 19, 2009

My dearest God,

How do we know if the road before us is one that will lead to peace or to disaster? The path may look promising, lush green grass growing alongside, pools of clear water, sunshine and blue skies; yet, how can we know if it is the right road for us?

In the morning mass we heard the same scripture we have heard all week from Jeremiah 29:11, 12 and 14. "God has a plan for you, a plan for peace and not disaster." I must confess I did not come looking for peace. I came to discover your will for my life. I spent three days outlining my plan to you; you ignored me. Thank you.

I believe that that beautiful path I described can lead to peace and to disaster. If I retain my ability to be master of my own life, then I risk the road to disaster. I only know yesterday and today. I do not know my tomorrows. When I determine which road to take, I do so knowing what I know right now. I am not privy to the future. What I do know, however, is that you hold the future, not as a threatening cloud over me but rather as a gentle reminder of your presence.

As I cling less and less to my own will and more and more to yours, I have a greater chance of moving toward peace.

You are Master
of the Universe,
Gracious and
Loving God.
As my love
for you grows
and my trust
grows with it,
the more
I fall
in line
with your purpose
for my life.
When I retired,
Lord,
I had
a hint
of an idea
what to do
with myself
in the future;
yet, I am
not sure
I took much
into account
of your desire
for me.
How can
I ever
be a witness
to the Almighty
if I
do not
sit, wait
and listen?
Living in silence,
that glorious
sacred realm
of mystery,
I learn
as you
teach me.

Gratefully, Andrea

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

My dearest God,

Here in the desert mountain praying is as easy and natural as breathing. Perhaps that is why I come to refresh my ability to pray and breathe at the same time. The daily rhythm is arduous; yet, it is life-giving.

I have been struck by certain beauties. One elderly monk arm and arm, leading an older elderly monk who always smiles. He is limited in what he can do; yet, he seems content. Because of his nature, I am sure everyone wants to serve him. I did when I found him directly across from me in the dinner line. I filled his soup bowl just to gaze upon his beautiful face, his fluffy white hair, the lines around his eyes, the pink of his cheeks, the sparkle in his eye. But more than that, I see faith living and breathing in his every pore.

Living in community means taking care of your brother for in this community the monk next to you is your brother. There is so much to learn here of how to tenderly care for one another. There is a peace here carved out of mountain stone. But it's not just the facilities; the very mountains, river, canyon and trees offer messages of peace. And the community of monks offer that same sense of peace to one another, to us guests and to the world at large through their prayers.

Yet, this morning as I participated in the mass, I was very aware of the division between our churches. I may have a catholic heart but I respect their decision to bless non-catholics but not serve them the Eucharist. I knelt while the others received the precious gift of Christ. A fractured table.

I am reading a book on joy. I felt called to bring it with me. I have mourned for so long; I want to find a way to recover my joy. And I know that true, inner joy is a gift from your hand. It is a gift of your spirit. It is not happiness. So often we think if we could just be happy our lives would be good. But happiness is so shallow, so fleeting. You're happy, then you're not. I'm not interested in that temporary high. I want the kind of joy that lives deep within, like a well that is constantly erupting. No one, no thing can give me that joy, only you.

I am trying to maintain my prayer for your will. Praying for your will requires so much trust on my part. It is really giving my well being to you, allowing you to lead me to this will only you know is best for me and perhaps others around me, maybe. As I surrender more and more of myself to you, I know I am doing your will just by my action of letting go. I do so want to be faithful, to be more than a fly-by-night human on the planet without regard to a higher calling.

As I let the wind of your spirit whisper to me, I pray that somehow, some way I may leave something behind for someone else and that I will take home what I came to receive.

Your mercy
is so
apparent here.
As I read
the psalms,
then sing them
in the
daily offices,
I recognize
more and more
my own humanity
and my
great desire
to live
more and more
for the divine.
I am
like a
little child
with so much
to learn.
Keep me
close by,
O Lord,
shelter me
in your wings,
display your wisdom
on my heart,
and make
my soul
soft and flexible,
always ready
to receive love
albeit through
affection, affirmation,
challenge or correction.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Dear God,

Your word blows in the canyon, like leaves picked up on the ground swirling toward the heavens and back. In the silence and solitude all is indeed quiet. In the marvelous sound of silence, mysteriously your word appears in the mind, in the heart and in the soul. Unexpectedly your presence is in the human heart, in mine, and I realize once again the majestic nature of divine love that penetrates humanity's soul.

Yesterday as I prayed in the upward walk by the stations of the cross, you spoke to me loud and clear. "You have told me what you want; now be quiet and listen to me." I entered a deeper silence and you began to speak.

There is a mystery being lived out here on the mountain. There is a daily rhythm, one day is not really different than the last. However, it is in the midst of routine daily ritual that the divine mystery arises. It is a different word for each person, not the same at all. When it seems as though nothing is happening, so much is taking place that it nearly bowls a person over.

I spoke for three days to you. You know the desires of my heart but I hadn't listened for yours. I have entered a deeper silence now, ready, desirous of listening to you. Your word has power, always given in love and grace.

Most Holy God,
let your word
be the word
I hear.
Silence my
own voice
so the
only voice
I hear
is yours.

Love always, Andrea

Monday, November 16, 2009

My dearest God,

They say silence is golden; well, I have found it to be true. In silence a whole world waits to be revealed. As I clear my mind of clutter, I can hear you better speaking through the Gregorian chants in worship seven times a day plus mass. I can hear you through nature, the rain, snow, sleet and ice. I can see you in the glorious ways that birds effortlessly soar in the canyon. I can feel your loving presence as I bring my prayers of faith to you. Do you ever weary of my prayers that are simply this: "O God, dear God, O God, dear God, O God, dear God."

I am clinging to the promise of faithfulness, mine to yours. I pray for God's will many times every day although I know in my heart of hearts what I want. Trusting you for your will takes faithfulness on my part. I do want to be found faithful. I do want to read the sacred signs along the way, so many symbols that have appeared. And then I do want to trust that your will is always best.

I am grateful to be home here on the mountain once again. Let your breath blow on me, dear God.

Thank you
for the richness
of your grace
that appears
in an
infinite number
of ways,
O God.
You are
so good
to me.
I am grateful.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Dear God,

Thank you, Almighty God, for bringing us safely to the desert mountain monastery. Although the 13 mile drive up the mountain on a wet road was scary, you guided us to the holy mountain. I shouted praise because just one hour later tiny ice pellets came down in narrow, finger-like sheets. I stood and watched in awe as the mountains disappeared in the clouds. But nothing was more beautiful than the rainbow that appeared on the side of the mountain to the right of the guesthouse. Beautiful sunshine, light billowy clouds, heavy gray clouds, sheets of rain and ice, a rainbow and a clearing revealing nature’s wondrous beauty, I saw it all within two hours of our arrival. I am most grateful because if we had been just an hour later we could not have made it up to the monastery.

Early this morning before sunrise I turned on my Coleman lantern, lighted my Christ candle, put on my hand knitted prayer shawl and I began to read your holy word, listening for your voice woven into scripture. “Blessed are you who delights in me; for you are like a tree planted by a stream of water which yields fruit in season.” Although my own paraphrase from Psalm 1, I realize the longing of my heart is to be one planted by living water who produces the fruit of your spirit.

Sometimes I am so far from displaying your fruit. When I wander away in search of my own way, I fail to stand tall, drinking in your living water, quietly producing fruit. My leaves begin to wither and fall. My branches droop. But when I return, when I understand fully what it means to be planted in divine soil giving eternal life, I drink and drink. I let my roots go deeper, searching for sacred minerals that strengthen my inner core. I let the radiance of your light shine in me. I am aglow because I let the light of your love shine outward.

As I stepped out of my room and into the cold to walk to the bathroom, I could see the first dusting of snow on the ground. I oohed and aahed in the delicate beauty of the season. And in the journey up to the chapel as the dawn pushed its way into the darkness, I could see the snow covered mountains all around me, snowflakes resting on the arms of each cross along the path and fixed on each tree, limb and branch. How exquisite the landscape in this marvelous mountain canyon.

As I spend these days in silence, prayer, meditation, reading and studying, I am leaving room for your spirit to speak, to urge and challenge, to enlighten, to correct and to affirm. You are God who speaks even through the wind and the rain, sleet and ice, the God who changes and transforms.

Make me
like a
willow branch
that moves
with the wind,
dear God.
Let the wind
of your spirit
blow upon me,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Dear God,

I leave in a few hours for the desert mountain monastery where I will once again turn my heart toward you. There I will set everything aside, personal comfort, my own will, my daily responsibilities, my hopes and dreams to listen for your voice. I will recall to mind all the times you have called me to quiet solitude so that you could speak to me.

These last days I have been restless, feeling like I was killing time waiting for these prized moments. It is true what the psalmist says that our hearts are restless until they rest in you. I have been restless although I have been in some of the most beautiful country in the world. Perhaps you have been preparing me and I have felt the shifting going on.

I pray, O Lord, that I will be able to listen. I pray I will exemplify courage and strength. I pray that my love for you will grow and my willingness to follow your will will become more steadfast. I pray that my devotion will reach your heart. I pray I will allow you to make the necessary changes in me.

I remember how servants of old went to the mountain looking and longing for you. I remember how they took nothing with them because they believed you would provide everything they needed. Lives were changed, nations were changed; perhaps the whole of humanity was changed in some way. I would never consider myself a prophet or a saint but I do have a heart for you. I pray I will be like these who believed you held the divine mysteries in your hand. I want always to follow you, to listen, to be obedient and pliable, to permit you to remould and reshape me at your will. May it be so.

God of Infinite Wisdom,
Giver of Life,
Lover of all Humanity,
guide me,
I pray
along my journey
of faith.
Hold my feet
to the ground
but let
my spirit soar
with you.
Whisper to me
the secrets
of the universe
where I
may learn
at your feet.
Teach me
your ways
that I
might exhibit
your likeness,
that I
will be
a light
that shines
in the darkness.
Help me
to light
the fire
of your spirit
in others,
I pray.

Love always, Andrea

Friday, November 13, 2009

Dear God,

Sometimes I struggle to keep my eyes on faith, letting fear move me emotionally. When I raise my eyes to you, leaning on your everlasting promises, my fear is reduced, my emotions are kept in check. Learning to live in faith is my greatest challenge, dear God.

How many times have you taught me about faith and fear? How many situations have I faced where I let fear guide my life? And yet, how many times has your grace urged me on, lifted me up, took hold of my hand and guided me toward faith that reaped great rewards?

I know the truth of your agape love. I know that my life is more full when I let your love embrace me, providing me with the faith I need to face every situation that comes along. When I read accounts of the saints of old, I see their own struggles; yet, I see how it is they trusted in your agape love to turn their fear into faith.

As I pilgrim toward the mountain tomorrow to meet you in silence, may I remember this truth.

Lead me,
Lord,
lead me
to you.
Teach me
the lessons
of faith.
Lessen my fear
as I
take hold
of the truths
I know
so well.
Lead me,
Lord,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Dearest God,

I awakened in the middle of the night, troubled by a negative thought. I turned on the light and grabbed hold of my CD player and tape. After plugging in the earphones, I laid back, turned out the light and listened as the music spoke of love, faith, hope and beauty. One song after another played until I was filled with you. I unplugged the earphones, placed them on the nightstand, turned off the light and breathed a breath prayer of gratitude.

As the morning dawned I thought about my restless night before the music. I reflected upon my sadness and how I had turned to you. When I considered your goodness to me, tears formed and slid down the sides of my temples, dripping on the sheets. I recalled to mind that fullness that I felt believing that you had filled me with yourself and how that fullness had not only calmed my spirit but also allowed my body to rest and fall into sleep.

And then another image came to me. It was a picture of the infilling of your peaceful spirit into my own body and mind and how that fullness was you. I felt my tears slipping from my eyes and I thought if that fullness was you, then the very tears that spilled out were yours. If that was true, then is it possible that the spirit of your peace that moved from inside myself could move outward to the greater world? That would mean that the very act of weeping with thanksgiving could allow your peace and goodness to bless others. Is it possible, dear God, is it?

Every gracious act
of love,
O God,
blesses me.
The very thought
that your blessing
to me
could bring blessing
to others
is a blessing
in itself.
As I pilgrim
my way
in life,
please make
me aware
of the consequences
and implications
of your blessings.
Make me
a partner
in your goodness,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My dearest God,

As I walked in the cold crisp morning air, I passed through the parking lot of the Whole Foods Market, a huge grocery store committed to organic and natural foods with no preservatives. In the window I noticed workers preparing for the day, a baker spreading out flour, kneading bread, another taking out specially prepared foods, yet another preparing specialty coffees. I was taken by the beautiful sight of talented cooks making foods that will warm the insides of the hungry.

There was something very warming to me as I watched the woman making the bread. Some flour, salt, herbs, coming together to become a delicious loaf of bread. Something out of nothing or rather something coming from a few ingredients.

I think that community faith is created the same way. People coming together bringing what they have...a little trust, some prayers, a bit of courage, a hint of hope and love makes for a delicate faith that feeds the whole community. Everyone benefitting from the gifts offered.

Most Holy
and Wonderful God,
how lovely
it is
to watch
life come together.
I love
to see
the process
of transformation
where all
can dip
from your
sacred well.
May I drink
and may
I provide.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My dearest God,

As I walked, my face looking toward the mountains, I whispered with the psalmist, "I lift up my eyes." I lift up my eyes means I move toward you, a gesture of faith, of love, of supreme trust. I lift up my eyes and in so doing I seek your will.

I long for that oneness, that unity of spirit that circles the human and divine together. In my desire to seek your will, I find myself melting, melding together with all that is good. In those moments of true spirit, I sense a peace, a sweet peace that comes along when the human and divine unite. I know peace is always possible, but the peace of your spirit is more than the absence of conflict, the letting go of my own way or wants. Your peace brings much, much more.

From my view as a growing child, my grandmother was always a woman of peace. Her gentle, tender ways, her seemingly bashful smile, her self-giving love portrayed a picture of peace. I loved to be at her side because I wanted to enjoy that circle of peace with her. I came to discover her peace came from you.

My second image of peace came from the Sisters of Carmel. During liturgy they closed their eyes to commune with the deep peace of your son. When the break in occurred, instead of rising up in angry fury, they simply moved to that place of peace. As I stood with them in liturgy their faces shined a radiant glow as if your light was shining from within outward. I will always remember the peace not only on their faces but in their words and actions following the beating of two of the sisters.

The movement toward you is the first step, I think, of centering on that peace. When I find myself disturbed, unsettled or hurting I lift my eyes. I do know where to go; I do know who possesses this peace. My desire for peace urges the rest of me to relax, to rest in you, to trust in your benevolent care.

My journey of faith has once again brought me to New Mexico, a state that the natives call the Land of Enchantment. Maybe it is enchanted, maybe not. But there is a spirit here that seems to call out to me. In a few days I will pilgrim back to the mountain desert and sit at your feet. I will whisper your name and listen for your voice in the silence. I will commune with the mountains and the river, the sky and the canyon, the wind, moon and stars. I will willingly give myself to you in an effort to follow your will.

What joy
spills over
into my heart
when I
lift my eyes
to you.
I know
my way
to you
by grace.
You never
disappoint me.
Thank you
for this
awesome beauty
that draws me
into thanksgiving
and praise.

Love, Andrea

Monday, November 9, 2009

Dear God,

Living what I've learned, I'm trying to live what I have learned while sitting at your feet. I'm taking baby steps, trusting in your will and in myself. Like a toddler learning to walk, I am taking those 1-2-3-4 steps of faith.

You have taught me more about life, about myself and relationships. You have moved me from where I was to where I am. You have called my name and I have come running. You have been busily at work recreating me. I have a new picture; I do believe I am a new creation.

All good things that have come my way are works of the Master; I know this, Great God. It has not been because I was worthy but because you have given me worth. You have placed value on my life and sent me forth to live a life of faith, one that trusts wholeheartedly.

As I soared among the clouds this morning, I looked at your world, your wondrousncreation. At 30,000 feet I gazed upon your artistry, a palette of red and orange, yellow and gold, of brown and green, and white and blue, so many beautiful colors.

I believe you have enabled me to see faith that way as an array of majestic beauty. After all, isn't trust beautiful, that delicate partnership giving so much life? If I were to paint trust, I'd select amber, that rich blending of yellow, gold and brown. And what about hope? For hope, I would use violet, allowing the paint to freely spread across the page. For faith, I'd select yellow and green. Oh, and silence, that willingness of the soul to still, I'd paint silence blue with a mysterious shimmering, glimmering white shining through. A canvas of faith, aah, now that would be something to hang in the halls of the soul.

I see my own life, a continuing construction, a canvas still being painted, a faith constantly being renewed, an image of gratitude.

Thank you
for color,
Master Artist.
As I
gaze upon
your magnificent handiwork,
I acknowledge
once again
your creative power
not only
in nature
but in
human life.
Paint me,
O Lord,
the color
of love.

Always, Andrea

Sunday, November 8, 2009

My dearest God,

Confession, the act of releasing the burden of failure into your hands. Surrender, letting go of fermenting sin into your hands of grace.

One of the life lessons I have learned is to allow truth to rise up within me, to acknowledge my own failures and flaws, to confess to you and those I have transgressed against and then surrender and pick up grace. One of the reasons I find comfort and solace in the Catholic Church is the ability to confess aloud, using our blended voices to clear ourselves of unconfessed sin and unwanted emotional debris. I love the words, "I pray to Almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters that I have sinned through my own fault, in thought and word, in what I have done and what I have failed to do...and I ask all the angels and saints and you my brothers and sisters to pray for me to the Lord, our God." When I offer these words to you, my Lord, I feel your cleansing power for I do desire to rid my soul of sin, of errors in thinking, of blame and judgement, of hurting others and myself. Yes, I know I can make my private confession to you daily, many times daily; however, there is just something about confessing together publicly that not only gives relief but also an acknowledgement that I am not the only sinner in the world.

As I have practiced more and more confession, I have learned more of your way of love. I realize there is great harm in holding sin inside the soul, not only for me as I do it but also when I withhold my confession from others I have harmed. I do not bring peace to the world as I remain unsettled and uncompromised. You have shown me what peace can come through the act of confession.

As I advance in my faith, I take more and more responsibility for myself and blame others less for my own sin. The act of confession takes me one step closer to you.

I rest
from my labors
when I
come to you,
Loving God.
I recognize
my own humanity
and my need
to confess,
to bring you
everything I
carry inside.
Hold my feet
to the fire
of your spirit,
O God;
refine me,
purify me,
make me
your own
once again.
Turn me back
to you
each time
I turn away.
For you alone
are God;
only you,
my Lord.
Guide me
in your way
today and always
that I
may not only
experience the joy
of heaven
but bring joy
to the whole
of the earth,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Dear God,

Discovering your will is one thing; living it out is another. Learning to trust sacred instincts is life-giving. Listening for your voice on the wind of your spirit breathes new possibilities. Your will comes as I get in touch with my deepest self. In this movement to the core of my being I trust and listen, praying that your will will be revealed.

What is life if not lived from the deep? I don't want to just skim the surface my whole life long. I am always reminded of the gardener who sowed seeds. Only those seeds that grew deep roots produced. I want to produce faith. I want to live with purpose and intentionality. I want to help change the world for good. I want to dance to the tune of grace, knowing you as my Dance Partner. In doing so I have courage to be obedient, to follow, to live and breathe your spirit into the creation already present but so often invisible. I want to be a visible manifestation of your presence simply by living out your will for my life.

During these last months I have been on a desperate search for your will. I have sought you day and night. I have cried out and celebrated when I saw a glimmer of hope for the future. I have realized that my simple plan is never as great as your elaborate design that takes all things into consideration. As you are working on your will for my life, you are working on the lives of those around me. Only you can know what is best, honorable, good, wise and holy.

In my pursuit of discernment I have learned to draw near, to spend a good deal of time at your feet, anticipating, listening, waiting, knowing the wait is always worth it.

Holy of Holies,
in the sanctuary
of hope,
I breathe in
your grace
and your grace
leads me
to joy.
In this
particular moment
of joy,
I utter
my heartfelt praise.

Love, Andrea

Friday, November 6, 2009

My dearest God,

Life lessons, lessons learned in the intersections of life.

I have never known anyone to walk a straight path, one without turns and twists, hills and valleys, mountains and jungles. I believe the straight path is an illusion, not a reality.

When locked in indecision, paralysis or a position of stuckness, the issue is one of movement. What shall I do? I may ask. In order to remain in place, I have to resist the breath of your spirit blowing in my direction. I have to hold steady, hold tight to where I am because you are always urging me to move in some direction. This loving gesture is intended to encourage me to faith.

There is something quite wonderful about a baby taking those first steps, one, two, then a fall. As a mother and grandmother I have clapped and sung hallelujahs for the effort, the beautiful endeavor to grow and learn, to become independent, to step forward in life.

I think the steps of faith are like that. We have a natural urge to move, to dance, to take one foot and move it to another place. This adventure inspires us to wonderment and we feel an inner joy that we are not destined to live where we are forever.

The first step is the step of trust. Trust must well up within me in order to take that first step. I trust in you first, then in myself. After that first scary step, I feel hope inside and so step number two is the step of hope. I breathe again believing that life is possible and positive going forward. The glorious third step is the step of faith because I realize that the first two steps occurred because you destined them and I suddenly feel the wind at my back gently nudging me forward while an arm reaches out beside me to keep me steady. The fourth step is the step of gratitude; my voice just naturally wants to praise and give thanks. The steps following are made easier because of these four steps and the fact that you are present as a loving helpmate.

My recent life lesson has been one of taking a step.

I trust.
I hope.
I faith.
I give thanks.

Loving you always, Andrea

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Dearest God,

There are times when you call me to step forward; at other times the call is to step back. When I know you are at work and your will is being fulfilled, I have to step back even when I want to step forward. Today I reluctantly stepped back.

Your will is so important to me. I have been praying for your will to be done. But I must confess the picture I had in my mind looks different than the way your will is unfolding. My temptation is to step in, to change things just a bit, just a teeny bit to make my vision possible. But I can't. I must resist because I do not want to get in the way of your will being done.

Like watching a child make a mistake that they will learn from, it is very difficult to let go and allow someone to make the lonely pilgrimage. Yet, what is faith if not trusting you to do your will in my life and also in the lives of those I love the most?

Dear Lord, lead me in the dance of life, where you lead and I follow. Teach me when to step forward and when to step back. Please give me courage to stand by when you dance with others. Lead me, Lord, lead me, dear God, I pray.

You are
so gracious,
so loving,
farsighted,
and full of
grace and hope.
Let your will
be done,
dear God;
hold me back.
Teach me
to follow,
to follow,
to follow,
dear God,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Dearest God,

At this moment I am living in the middle of grace. And what and how is this possible? Grace is your unmerited love and forgiveness. Living in the middle is that act, that gesture of willingness to accept your will, to let go of unrealistic expectations. I don't always feel this way but these last few days I have found myself in this rare position.

I've heard it said many times that we have to be careful what we pray for because we are sure to get it. During my long, arduous search for truth, for knowledge and insight, I wondered if I would ever get to my destination. And yet, you have lead me to where I am.

I have come to the conclusion that we each see a side of truth, but only a side. We do not see the whole truth. From the vantage point of a small part of truth, we function as if we know the all-encompassing truth. We believe there is nothing more to know. We then place ourselves in the position of authority and function to let other people know the truth as we know it. The trouble is that others see the truth in a different way. And that is where the rub comes in. Conflict, a battling of wills. The worst thing is if we don't listen or accept that part of truth someone else holds, then we shall never know the whole truth.

In my prayers I have sought to know the whole truth, to understand, to walk into the light of knowledge. As I grasped onto this information when it came, I had to listen to other voices who also held a portion of that truth. Their perspective brought a discerning word to me.

There are always people who want to share their perspective, their knowledge, their understanding and truth. What I have discovered is they do not know the whole truth either. The genius of your divine plan is that we each share what we know with one another, realizing that the final truth rests in our trust in you, ourselves and in our neighbor.

Guide us
to the truth,
O Lord.
Give us
a questing heart,
one that
searches out
your word.
Let that
divine word
touch us,
inspiring us
to do
your will,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

My dearest God,

As the darkness of the morning gives way to the light, I listen to music of the soul. Songs of faith and hope, joy and love sing to me of your wondrous grace. "Only in you do I find my rest," the soloist sings, "only in you." My heart is restless without you, O Lord, my own heart sings.

Music calls to the deep within me. I may be disheartened at the moment but as I listen and sing, I hear heaven's angels sing their love song and my whole disposition can change. I shake off my worries and concerns and join heaven's choir.

The melodies
of heaven
proclaim to me
your goodness,
your love,
your grace
and joy,
Most Wonderful God.
I hear
the voice
of invitation,
sing, dear Andrea,
sing with us,
the songs
of creation.
I open
my mouth
and glory forms
within me.
I know
the One
who has created
creation's song.
I start
to sing
and my
voice blends
to sing
heaven's love song.

Love always, Andrea

Monday, November 2, 2009

Dearest God,

Dwelling place, you have been my dwelling place. If I were to describe three things that you are, dwelling place would be one. So often I have referred to you as my dwelling place. And what is this dwelling place? It is a presence, a living presence eternally present, any place, any time.

I have found you as my dwelling place when I have soared with angels and saints but also as I found myself in the bowels of hell. You have been my dwelling place during times of confusion, frustration, doubt, fear and wonderment. When I give myself to you as dwelling place, I walk into your arms and you and I become one.

Wherever I have gone, I have found you waiting or traveling with me. Your dwelling place is wherever your children lodge and beyond. I have discovered you in the midst of a weed-filled garden, in the spectacular night skies, in the breath of the wind, in a tearful reunion, in a fear-filled moment and especially in acts of grace. You present yourself in moments of illumination and inspiration.

A wanderer once asked, "Where can I go that you are not there? If I go into the heavens, you are there. If I go to Sheol, you are there." I have been that wanderer when I sought answers from heaven, when I felt alone, when I questioned myself, when I lay in my sin and stood in my alleluias.

As this dwelling place God, you challenge me to lean, to bend, to change, to give, to surrender, to hope, to love, to faith, to trust, to commit, to walk. Nothing stays the same in your presence. My hopelessness must give way to hope, my darkness must surrender to the light, and my fear must give itself to faith. The simple act of breathing becomes dwelling in your presence.

Dwelling Place God,
I am lighter
in your presence.
I am freer
in your presence.
I am happier
in your presence.
I am stronger
in your presence.
I am joyous
in your presence.
I am peaceful
in your presence.
I am faith
in your presence.
I am love
in your presence.
Let me dwell
with you
all the days
of my life
into eternity,
I pray.

Love, Andrea

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Dearest God,

How can I know your will? How can I become obedient to this godly will?

So often, Lord, I find myself searching for your will. I look around, turning over every stone, thinking I can surely find what you desire for my life. I seek out clues to direct me to an answer. But in the end I have to make a decision or a choice that I think best represents your interest.

I ask myself questions. Does this perceived will bring peace? Does it add tranquility to the world? Does it do harm or injury? Does it get results? Does it bring about reconciliation, hope and a return to joy? Such questions roll around in my head as I listen for your quiet voice in the midst of noisy chaos.

My number one goal in life to be faithful demands that I ask questions that will lead me to you. I must be on a quest as I consider more than my own hopes and dreams. To subject myself to a higher authority requires a willingness on my part to bend.

I'm leaning,
leaning toward you,
Great Wisdom God.
I desire
your will,
to follow
your leading,
to do
as you request.
Give me signs,
I pray,
that the path
I choose
is the one
laid out
for me.

Love always, Andrea

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Dearest God,

Today I saw your face looking back at me. I heard the sound of your voice in my home.

Growing up I loved being with my cousins, uncles and aunts and grandparents. It was just my favorite thing. But we grew up, my grandparents died, we married and had children and our children married and had children and my parents died. Life went on. We had a great divide and we separated from one another for a variety of crazy reasons. But then by your grace and your love, you drew us back together. All the reasons for estrangement have quietly slipped away. We are back together.

This morning my sister and her husband, my sister-in-law, two of my nieces, my daughter, my great niece and two grandchildren came to visit. Oh we were looking at the items my sister sewed for Christmas and we each bought items for children and grandchildren but really we were sharing our deep love for one another. We laughed and teased one another, typical of our family. Joy rose up in my house.

It is moments like this that I recognize your face and hear your voice. I see your work and I hear the melody of your love for us. And I give thanks.

You are God,
author of love
and grace,
hope and power.
Who can
know you?
Who can
experience you?
Who can
feel your presence?
All your children
for you care
for each
and all.
Thank you,
Most Loving Creator,
mastermind of
all creation.

Love, Andrea