Friday, April 2, 2010

My dearest God,

I watched her snuff the candles, one by one as I listened to the passion story of your son. He was arrested, came before the authorities, pronounced innocent and then guilty. He carried the cross, was nailed to it, received taunts, forgave his tormentors and died. The light went out...or did it?

I never weary of hearing the story because it is the foundation of my faith. When I listen not only with my mind but also my soul, I allow the story to find its way inside me. I embrace it because I want to live a life of faith and gratitude. It is not only a repeated sacred page in the bible or the retelling of a familiar, cherished love story; it is part of me because I am part of you. I allow it to renew my inner parts that need restoration and to strengthen my resolve to live for you. It contributes valuable life-giving energy to me, satiating my spiritual center for sharing with others the best of what I call life.

This life is to me not just a simple living of each day but rather a call to a kind of divine joy that permeates the human experience with an altruistic spirit that allows me to share precious treasures with others each day. Maybe it is a prayer, a smile, a making way for, giving a gift, exhibiting courage or hope on a dark day; perhaps it is doing something that will replenish another's dry well or placing salve on a wound. At times it is a being with in the final moments of life. It is not so much what I offer as who.

You are
the who,
the what,
the why
and the where
of life,
Great Redeemer.
The richness
of every day
is not
what I
can take
for myself
but what
runs through me
that I
am privileged
to give away.
I am nothing
but a breath
without you,
Most High God,
one that
rises quickly
and falls fast.
You are
the story;
you are LIFE
to me.

Love always, Andrea