Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Dearest God,

Six years ago this month I awakened in the darkness, pulled on a pair of sweats, grabbed my Coleman lantern, and walked the very dark and uneven path to the chapel at 3:50 a.m. in the mountain canyon. Lead only by my single light, I listened as the gravel crunched under my feet. As I stepped into the remote edifice, felt the heat of the pot bellied stove just inside, and let your silence take hold of me, I was certain I was home.

You spoke deeply to me during those days at Christ in the Desert monastery. You invited me to journey with you, to trust you, to follow where you guided, and to allow you to do your work in me.

What a time it was. Steadily you lopped off living parts that were holding me back. You took away the heavy baggage I had been carrying. You lightened my load. You opened doors to my soul. You drove the darkness away with your light. You let your love resume its place of honor. You claimed me once again.

That was the beginning of a new lifetime, one that I would always remember and cherish. The stripping away of the non essentials gave me a renewed chance at life. During the course of the next months you let me walk by your side and in so doing pointed out sacred moments, places, times, warmth, and love. Faith resumed its growing pattern and changed me.

I could never have known that later I would travel into a long, weary time of darkness and despair. I could never have known how my world would begin shifting, making the very ground upon which I stood shaky and unreliable. I could never have known how those fall days of 2005 would reshape my life.

Today as I look around making an inventory of your sweet spirit in my life, I realize what it means to be a grand recipient of your agape love.

Thank you,
Wondrous God,
for the journey,
for the relationship,
and for
the changes
you offer
in my life.
Thank you
for the gratitude
I feel
as I recall
great hallowed moments
with you.

Love always, Andrea