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