Mystic

That Kind of Love

I spent half an hour at church today, praying.  I was waiting for someone who never showed. 

Not God.  He was there...

It was supposed to be someone to explain a new ‘parish initiative’ to me.  I had missed 2 meetings concerning the initiative because they conflicted with my work schedule, but evidently I won’t get off that easy.  I’m not sure what the initiative is.  I asked the man (who had called to arrange a one-on-one meeting with me) what the issue was, and got a vague answer that went something like this:  ‘it’s to do with education of our kids and promoting vocations to the priesthood.’  I don’t know how I can help with that unless what they want is money.  So I figure they probably want money.

Anyway, I was there at the church at 2:00pm and he wasn’t

It was SO quiet and peaceful in the church.  Cold, but quiet and peaceful.

After a while I started to imagine what it would be like if God , rather than the gent I was expecting, walked into the church to meet me.

I mused about what it would be like to sit down with God.  I could only imagine that it would be sort of like a job evaluation.  You know, where the boss gives you just enough encouragement to keep you from quitting, but not enough to really feel good about the work you’re doing. 

But no, that was wrong.  As I knelt there imagining, God came to me in a vision.  Turns out it was not like a job eval after all 

He was big and I was small. 

Small, like a baby.  He picked me up and  cradled me, like a baby.   I had forgotten what that kind of love feels like.  It’s awesome.  Thanks, God.

The Gift

“But God,” I said, half laughing and half crying, “I can’t relax, I’ve got this list... things I came to pray for, you know...” 

I waved the list, and just to show me what a drama princess I was, the list magically lengthened into an old-fashioned scroll, long and white and curly.  I laughed and surrendered.  What else can one do with God, you know.

Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  It’s a Catholic thing.  It was scheduled between 7:30am and 12:30pm at my church, and I knew I had to go, because I knew God was going to give me something.  A gift.  That’s what God does, you know.

I had forgotten that one doesn’t have to do anything to deserve it.  Love, you know.  And gifts.  They’re unconditional.

So when the profound and unexpected sense of peace came over me, along with the permission to let go and just feel the peace, what did I say?

 “I can’t....”

But I could.  And I did.  No list needed.

Thanks, God.