“Yes.”

God's art

God’s art

Broke Bread – Poured out blood alone
Stripped and Beautiful

Stripped and Beautiful


and peacefully being
Entered into the dance at St. John’s
a man cornered me, or so I thought
anxious about father dying
Part of me wanted to pass him off
And thank God, I felt the nudge
Could see You healing this man of grief and loss
When I mindfully looked
I saw
I allowed love to
rustle through my heart, soul and body
solitude or loneliness

solitude or loneliness

Then off to pray at St. Anthony’s Shrine
First, my walk in the wood for an hour
Commune – cold – but grateful
Herd of deer slipped mysteriously by me before I could focus
and then silence
still winter, no snow
still sleeping
surviving solitude

surviving solitude

An hour later, I sat in the chapel
and sat
and drifted
and sat…and waited impatiently, but serenely for a change

At one point I stood up, kept my boots on
and stood before the cross over the altar
“You, O Beloved God, know that I love you. I know that you love me,” I breathed and went on,
“You, o Beloved – listened so intently to my prayers, my breathing, the beat of my heart.”

“I desire and long to rest my head on your breast.
Touch your face
Kiss you, rest in your arms all night.

You, o Beloved were not offended.
You pine for me?!
A single tear escaped and rolled down from my right eye, over my cheek and into my neck…
You kissed me
So much to fathom. So much I could not take in.
You spoke…
You whispered…

Without totally understanding, I felt the struggle of the word raising in my throat..

“Yes.”

broken but beautiful

broken but beautiful

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