The Harvest Of God: Feasting On Your Theophanies

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It was only a small wind
rather gentle, like a breeze.
It blew a strand of hair across my forehead
and I knew that it was God.

I was awakened by a tiny gleam of light
it slipped through my curtain, onto my face.
It drew me to my feet and on to the window
Drawing back the curtains
dawn stepped softly into my room.
I knew that it was God.

In the middle of my loneliness
the phone rang.
A voice I knew so well, said,
“Hello, I love you.”
Love stirred in my soul
I knew that it was God.

Rain fell gently on the thirsty ground.
Slowly, carefully, steadily it came
to an earth parched with waiting.
Through those holy raindrops
I walked, unafraid — without an umbrella.
I knew that it was God.

It was only a little bitterness I thought
but it wouldn’t leave my heart.
It hung around my soul for ages
until a storm came, violent and terrifying.
It shook me to the depths of my being
and blew all the bitterness away.
I knew that it was God.

It was only a Silver Maple
but in the morning’s sunlight
It was filled with heaven.
I stood in a trance
as one touched by angel wings.
I knew that it was God.

O God, I cried,
Endearing One, I love you!
You cannot hide from me.
Between the cracks of daily life
I find you waiting
to be adored.
You slip into my life
like night and day
like stars and sunshine.
I know that you are God.

~ Macrina Wiederkehr

Old Enough To Know

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I just celebrated my 67th birthday this week.
I thought this prayer was fitting to reflect on the wisdom of humility as one grows older ~ ~

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from the craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody, helpful but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord that I want a few friends in the end.

Keep my mind free of recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

I dare not ask for the grace to enjoy the tales of others’ pain, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint—some of them are so hard to live with—but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people.

And give me, Lord, the grace to tell them so. Amen

~ 17th – Century Nun

Yet ~ balancing the above with a little hope,  that with God’s help,
we can be more than we ever imagined ! ! !

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O God

help me
to believe
the truth about myself

no matter
how beautiful it is!

~ Macrina Wiederkehr