1. I spotted the Beautiful Ma on the Western Brown Line platform, and intentionally followed her into the train. She carried a smiling lovely baby in the burgundy sling and she herself wore a flouncy skirt and flowered shirt. The whole ride, the red-headed cerulean-eyed baby nestled into Beautiful Ma's chest and Beautiful Ma would laugh and hug her beloved little girl. I have never seen a mother so crazy for her baby, nor a baby so crazy for her ma. They both kept looking at me and smiling, sharing their joy with me; I felt like a small part of their wonderful family for the entire ride.
2. During the Ascension Day Mass, we read a psalm [47] with these lines in it:
Sing praises to God sing praises,
sing praises to our King sing praises.
I was so struck by these words that I wanted to keep singing them forever and ever.
3. I was worried that my dress was a little short for church, and wanted to get the opinion of several friends before venturing to Ascension Day Mass in my new turquoise get-up with the rather high, perhaps not-so-holy hemline. I asked my roommate Kristina [who has never been to St. Peter's] what she thought, and she responded "I'm sure it's fine. I mean, what do you think Priest Sarah would say?" I got her point, and responded, "Yeah, I think she'd probably compliment it."
And as soon as I got into church, Sarah mouthed "I love your dress!"
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3 Signs of Grace
Inspired by Three Beautiful Things, I am setting out to record three signs of grace I see most every day
My More Wordy Blog
For, like a grain of fire
Smouldering in the heart of every living essence
God plants His undivided power --
Buries His thought too vast for worlds
In seed and root and blade and flower,
Until, in the amazing light of April,
Surcharging the religious silence of the spring,
Creation finds the pressure of His everlasting secret
Too terrible to bear.
Then every way we look, lo! rocks and trees
Pastures and hills and streams and birds and firmament
And our own souls within us flash, and shower us with light,
While the wild countryside, unknown, unvisited of men,
Bears sheaves of clean, transforming fire.
(Thomas Merton)
Smouldering in the heart of every living essence
God plants His undivided power --
Buries His thought too vast for worlds
In seed and root and blade and flower,
Until, in the amazing light of April,
Surcharging the religious silence of the spring,
Creation finds the pressure of His everlasting secret
Too terrible to bear.
Then every way we look, lo! rocks and trees
Pastures and hills and streams and birds and firmament
And our own souls within us flash, and shower us with light,
While the wild countryside, unknown, unvisited of men,
Bears sheaves of clean, transforming fire.
(Thomas Merton)
For here we are so blind and foolish that we never seek God until he, of his goodness, shows himself to us. It is when we do see something of him by his grace that we are stirred by that same grace to seek him, and with earnest longing to see still more of his blessedness. So I saw him and sought him; I had him and wanted him. It seems to me that this is and should be an experience common to us all. (Julian of Norwich)
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