Exaltation of The Cross

This was my call to Ireland. Yes, there will be PhD work and the beauty of exploring and researching New Monasticism and there will be fruit from this venture as I can attest to a number of people here who already listen in rapt attention when I speak of things spiritual and loving. This is the blessing of the cross. But alongside this there will be trials of the sort that is to bring healing to this country and so many hurt, abandoned and feeling alone as Ireland does not know how to approach healing the trauma that exists here.

And I wonder each day... has my life and its own suffering and experience and education led me to this cross to embrace? So as I am blessed, I am also under trial. And isn't that what we are all called to in a life of holiness.... to embrace the cross? To rely completely on Him who calls us to act in the world? And as a Benedictine, aren't I to spend my life navigating the subtlety of prayer and whatever work God calls me to do in a spirit of peace and harmony, knowing that it is His will to decide when to accost a soul with trial and simultaneously bless them with every grace to be fruitful? Isn't that why I have courage and yet can remain as a child, humble and apt to cultivate purity of heart? To see both the cross in front of me and the rainbow overhead and to remain in a state of awe and wonder at the actions of my Beloved as He rushes through me like water to fill every nook and cranny needing His help? And isn't this why I feel breathless after every one of these moments? And energized to His power and magnificence?

I said my prayers this morning to Mary, to cover me with the mantle of her purity and grace to intercede for me to her Son. I was struck over and over again this morning that Jesus was called to save sinners. And for those who listen, the saving is kind and gentle; those who are rebellious, the saving is full of trial and they may refuse and walk straight on to the path of the hell they create for themselves. But the first echo within me of the Divine call many years ago was, "Save sinners." And it was a command, not a question. And so I do as best as I can. And I am never alone, Christ is within me. And even though I have been beset by the normal spiritual trials of my own spiritual development, and the ungodly at every turn tries to deceive and frighten me, my house is built on the rock of Faith and cannot be washed away. And so I go, arms submitted to the Beloved I love, who comes before all else and surrender to His plan for me. And His plan is always this.... there is the grace that pours down through me from Him to others and the trials and burden to bear. But since I am yoked to Christ, His yoke is easy and His burden is light. And so He blesses me every day with something.

And so this refrain today... a son of God waits to be spoken to in sentences of love. It is patience that makes us divine. Exult in the embrace of the cross as you lay your head on the dust and dirt of the feet of Christ and gaze up into His eyes of compassion and know this one truth. It is mercy He desired. His words were of love and empathy for the sinners in His midst... He wanted to heal the world. And that means you and me.

In Remembrance of 9/11

The grace of Divine love led me today after mass into a shop... a destiny of sorts for two mourning souls to join in peace and share a grief that strikes us so suddenly, we remain breathless sometimes for years on end.

Irish, she heard of my loss at 9/11 since I could not come back on Saturday when she next worked... I would be in prayer, in remembrance. She too had lost a loved one, her son's fiance on the plane from Argentina to Dublin that went down into the cold seas forever lost... whose son crushed with grief became surrounded by friends, first one, then two, then many, each day to support and comfort him. The girl was so young, a Trinity medical student and was the love of his life... a smile that could light up a room and a heart so in love. And so his mother through tears chose a white candle to honor both and light on 9/11, she gave it to me... a moment shared, in solidarity that sometimes the way of the world is not to be understood, but accepted. As each day is a day of death that should never happen... tragedy that should not be... loss that cannot be recovered.

I am remembering my father, trapped underground in NYC in a subway on his way to meet his lawyer in the twin towers. She was killed that day... my father lingered and died a few months later... I am remembering my children whose father was also in NYC that day, who cleaved to me watching the sights and sounds of the towers falling again and again... I am remembering my daughter who in her shock felt helpless and fell asleep wrapped in a blanket from a long ago childhood... I am remembering my son who helped me hang the large American flag over our front door as he told me he wished he was a firefighter and could have saved them all. I am remembering my friends... so many who were there, some lost forever and some who simply lost their way after that day.

And I gaze on this white candle that I will burn on 9/11 in a spirit of peace and love for those who have lost their lives or their selves. And I will pray for those who choose to burn the Holy Qu'ran rather than a candle of peace, knowing that their flame is a flame of intolerance and hate and mine is a flame of Divine love.

In remembrance for peace, I choose to cultivate purity of heart and allow the chaos of others not to touch my soul. It is in the stillness of peace that love is procreated and released into the world.

And so my new friend in Dublin... this flame of love is for us both.

Of Bluebirds and Butterflies

Curiosity has gotten the better of you!
Caught in the wind chime – so attracted to its tune.
The backdrop of autumnal colors,
highlight outstretched wings in flight.
And yet, enraptured by the tinkling sound,
you hover, near noiselessly.
Waiting for the next breath of wind.

Of bluebirds and butterflies, this yard is full.
Full of God’s small fertile creatures of morn.
Warm sun, bright skies, evoke your busyness of day.
Resting on last blooms of bushes, you love to feed upon.
One last look into the nest, head poking in and out,
before winds claim you to migration southward.

Sitting here, restful, shadow cast long behind me,
eyes reflect blueness of sky and wing.
Smiling, to pass time, while watching the monarch soar.
The litters of green balls of walnuts cover vast leaf beds.
For now, their fragrance foretells of busy squirrels,
when wintry white snows come blowing in.

looking out from the monastery window into the heart of the world...

The Mass Rock

Too green for breathing today,
A cave of foliage and rock.
Pulled into Your depths and caverns
Abandoning a hardened heart
To softness found in altar stone.

Leaves of dew under a floating self
With fingers touching past and present.
Is my future here with You today,
O God?

Rescue me from despair and desolation!
Your servant takes my hand.
Guide me so gently to comfort.
Comfort in the greenness of pastures and forest.
The sacrifices made, only mercy awaits.

Reaching out from an endless void to touch skies
And water too blue to believe.
Is my future here with You today,
O God.

Pick Up the Cross

"In the solidarity of purpose with the Divine, knowing that it is the will of God to accost a soul to bend over and pick up the Cross, we must raise our arms in submission and surrender to the grace of God, allowing its sanctification to pour down through the Calvary heart of our souls, soundlessly to the poor souls around us. Only then have we emptied ourselves to the purpose of our lives." Lynn O'Gorman Latchford from "Into the Night of God: Mother Teresa's Dark Night and Her Theology of Suffering"

Prayer to Mary, Mother of Mine

O, Holy Mother of mine,
Feed me with the milk of the Word.
Lead me to your eternal Son,
So that I may call Him my own.

O, Holy Mother of mine,
Protect me in the tabernacle of your heart.
Love me along the path of salvation,
So I may meet Him on the way.

O, Holy Mother of mine,
Save me in love to empty my will.
Teach me to guard my heart,
So I may adore only him.

O, Holy Mother of mine,
Nourish me with the fruit of your womb.
Grace me with his presence,
So that I may rest at his breast.

At the Foot of Your Cross

With Lent approaching... my mind returns to Passion Friday, 2004. At dawn, I awoke somehow already praying... my heart's song echoing the Divine love present in my dreams. Love listens... love forgives... love gives.

And here I am today, still musing over the journey that ensued following the prayer in poetry that issued forth that early morn.

At the Foot of Your Cross

I gaze up into your stricken face.
You lift chin from chest gasping,
Silently a sunken self heaves up and down.
As I watch shoulders rise and fall.

And I feel your breath.
Love listens. Love listens. Listens.

Here I am Lord holding on
At the foot of your cross in tears.
Splinters in skin as I grasp your feet,
Laying cheek on blood and dust.

I hear last words from you strike me!
“Father, forgive them” enters my soul,
Written on my heart in prayer your message.
As you exhale a last act of suffering.

And I feel your breath.
Love forgives. Love forgives. Forgives.

I watch my Lord as you hang limp,
Alone up against a dark sky.
Slack against wood bleeding still,
I am nearly lost without you.

Fallen to ground I lie next to you quiet.
No space between my heart and yours,
One we are now your death saving me.
Surrendering to each other we will live on.

And I feel your breath.
Love gives. Love gives. Gives.

We Are Church

“For this too God sent the Spirit of His Son as Lord and Life giver. He it is who brings together the whole Church and each and every one of those who believe, and who is the well-spring of their unity in the teaching of the apostles and in fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in prayers.(119)” Lumen Gentium 13

God awakened me to His greatest gift - the ability to love. Truly love. In a way that makes it all about the other and not about me. I actually learned what it means to love God with your whole soul, your whole heart and your whole being. God helped me see that love is relational. You can never separate yourselves from others to go off on your own and handle things by yourself. We were created to be social and relatable - together in a community. As humans, we are meant to be graced with the beauty of each other. We are meant to be together to love one another, not envy one another. We are Church. We are meant to accept one another in love; bear with one another, accept each other’s frailties, idiosyncrasies, quirks, foibles and habits. We fall down, others fall down; we are there to help each other back up. We are here to laugh together, cry together, grieve together and celebrate together. The spiritual life is actually the path to loving others - which puts us on a path to loving God. The great escape from this stressful and demanding world is prayer. Praying incessantly. Prayer is the answer to feeding our spiritual life. God wants us to turn to His call of love for us, feel this love in our lives. It is all around us if we just stop long enough to listen.

Hidden

“All men are called to this union with Christ, who is the light of the world, from whom we go forth, through whom we live, and toward whom our whole life strains.” Lumen Gentium 3

Hidden

You have hidden Your face
from me again, O God.
Searching for You
plagues me each dawn.

Moving from tears to
sadness to darkness.
Alone in a room full
of books, banished.

Your lingering presence
grasped at, keeps yearning.
Longing to run into You
feeling swiftly carried.

So far away, yet here
with You still.
Reaching from soundless spirit
for Your face.


I feel lost sometimes when the darkness descends. Not darkness from the ways of the ungodly, not despair. But the darkness that occurs when you reach for your Beloved and He’s not near you – or so it feels. He is always there when needed and when you feel His presence, His light, in your need, you are overcome with joy, on fire, and then He vanishes! Having filled you, He swiftly leaves. You are left with the rush of winds blown through your very soul - soundless. This place within you has again become a cavity, a deeper abyss, utterly still. You wonder to yourself, how vast is this place within me, how deep has it become, how far has it been plumbed now? Every moment spent with your Beloved fills the vastness ever more with each visit and you empty it all around you, filling in all the cracks in humanity, every little nook and cranny where it is needed. And you look up again in prayer searching for your Beloved, the one who filled you so with such joy and such incredible, unspeakable love, it could barely be contained and spilled out all around you noiselessly. People see you not understanding this flame of love carried within you. You are different somehow they sense. In your difference and separateness, He teaches you about the world and creatures around you, whispering within you the lesson needed to be learned and lovingly admonishing your mistakes. And you are left helpless, wordless to explain this feeling, this place within you. And it is the only place where you want to dwell – sheltered with your Beloved. Hidden from the eyes of others. You surrender to this place within, that craves solitude, wanting no attention from others in the world. But it is not to be. You are carried constantly out of yourself in a rush of movement, carrying your Beloved to wherever He needs to be. And you stand there astonished and in awe of how you come to be where you are placed – filling others in their need! And you see the light in their eyes when the perfect moment has occurred and their soul, their spirit, the essence of them that was in need has been touched. The moment becomes a living prayer! God has passed through you to them and you quietly watch in awe the wonders of your Beloved.

The Eucharist is...

The Eucharist is...

Eucharist

I give thanksgiving for every second I have known my fellow man... whether in rejoicing or sorrow, in love or in anger; I have learned from the communion of our souls. Together sometimes only in the breath of a second... but we are one, you and I. We are never alone in this world... when I am holding you, God is holding you... we are not alone. You and I, my neighbor, are meant to be together, gathered around the feast of our hearts, in union with one another. This is the Eucharistic self we bring to the table of the LORD. He feeds us gathered there in love from the Bread of Life. We are never hungry if we remember He waits for us there.

Purity of Heart

Monastics strive to cultivate purity of heart to allow the Spirit of the LORD to descend and capture us silently, allowing His love to cover us as a vapor, sanctifying our humanity with His presence. It is a moment of pure joy and woundedness both, as we are slayed by the light that envelops us. O to be in this state always! But for most of us, the path to purity of heart resides in one thing. To love God with all our heart and all our mind and all our self and to love our neighbor as ourselves. May we always love...

Unmoving
by Lynn O’Gorman Latchford

Can I move out of your path
and never lose
this core of love?

Can I welcome you back
in my life
away from this place,
and hold still – not holding you?

Can I remain in the silence
of my soul
and let go into the vastness?

Can you step into my love
And not move away?

Can you stand there
with fingers reaching
and touch a soul on fire?

Can you wait in the stillness
and accept
a gift freely given?

I am lost in this place of love,
unmoving.

In Dietrick Bonhoffer's Words

'...the restoration of the church will surely come only from a new type of monasticism which has nothing in common with the old but a complete lack of compromise in a life lived in accordance with the Sermon on the Mount in the discipleship of Christ. I think it is time to gather people together to do this...'

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Extract of a letter written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer to his brother Karl-Friedrick on the 14th of January, 1935. (Source: John Skinner, Northumbria Community).

Sentences of Love

Finding myself here,
again, in this place
of footsteps past, my God.

Who am I to say what
happens here in Your
place of love, O Lord?

Standing and waiting, it
is patience that
makes us Divine.

A Son of God waits… to
be spoken to in
sentences of love.

Quietly waiting, until
the Glory of the Lord
descends in this place.

How could I tell You
I love You, O Lord?
when every crevice
asks me to deny You?

Strong in my love, I
wait to embrace You
here in this place.

Can it truly be You
that captures me unawares
in the quiet of my soul?

Waiting to hold You…
tell You… of the
love that waits for You here.

The Purity of Love

And in this time to speak, the purity of love accepts all in another. All. Everything. The past, the present, the future, accepting all patiently, bearing it all without judgment, without expectation. Seeking nothing in return. Nothing. Asking nothing but to allow the beloved to step into the core of love and be surrounded by its beauty, sometimes painfully accepting its newness, stepping into its vastness, as it if stepping off a cliff into free fall opening up to just accept it. Accept its light, pushing darkness away. Only pure humility accepts the purity of love as a gift. A gift. Freely given. Asking the beloved not to deviate from journeys that are necessary. Steps that have to be taken. All will happen that needs to happen in God's time. His will. In the core of love, God exists, it is where He dwells in the silence of our souls. This place where all should dwell but few find it. And that is where we need to start to look and seek. This place of light within ourselves, where God speaks to us. When we are there, darkness vanishes.