Birthing the Holy

Last night, I walked through an oak shrouded park in near full moonlight. My companion and I watched as a circle encompassed the silver lady, one so impossibly large that it skimmed the plane of the horizon. We kept looking over our shoulders as she peered between the bare branches. (Oaks take longer than most to break into spring life, but they are also the last to bow to winter's rule.)

As we entered an open area, we again looked back, and I gasped. The moon was ensconced, rising, upon a swirling vortex of cloud that spiraled long and lean, holding the orb - or perhaps birthing it - high in the sky. The vortex gradually receded, forming a sky-spanning, perfect swan that lay motionless under the glowing moon.

Unknowing, he knelt and I sat, because it was a sight too awesome (in the true sense) to bear upon one's feet. I now understand the concept of 'holy'. What does it mean? I asked my God.

I heard, "An amazing thing is being birthed. It is global and it is personal. It looks like many separate things, but it is really all One. It is larger and more joyful than you can possibly imagine, and it will - you will - you all will - take wing. It is time for my children to Dream again."

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Held in Freedom

I tried to bow out of the discernment process last night. The truth is, between running businesses and participating in a full-time grad program, I don't have the time to devote to such an all-important undertaking.

Besides, I see myself as an artist - a writer, a photographer, a mystic - and I can't imagine giving up that part of myself to become a parish priest, even as my heart beats in liturgical time to the Presence on the altar.

Also, the process has revealed to me the ways in which I still need to heal from my terrible wound.

The discernment committee listened carefully as I poured out these thoughts to them. They agreed that I appeared to have a full plate.

They completely disagreed with my conclusion that I was not called to the priesthood. They see my gifts as possibility for a wonderful priestly calling. I have agreed to postpone, not end, the process.

The warning here is: once God wraps Her arms around you, She never lets go.

Of course, She has had Her arms around us all from the beginning, long before our birth. We are carried, we are led, we are beloved.

And it all occurs within a blessed freedom - a paradox that is too difficult to understand, but still true.