the mission

As we sit on the grey stone bench,a squirrel comes over for his peanut.He is not shy nor is he in a hurry.He seems at peace in the shade.We never tire of this oasis.Tall trees shade joggers as they make their way through the mission property.Shorter trees and bushes have been planted in memory of a loved one.In the chapel I found a Mother's Day card,put there by a family for their sister,mother,friend,who had passed on;left in love in this holy place.

While writing in my journal on our last visit,I gazed around.Things that give me a special joy were all there.The bell above the arched door of the small chapel.In my mind I hear it calling believers to kneel in peace with it's slight small ringing.The blue stained glass windows in arched casements.What monk made these beautiful little pieces ?Did he pray for those who would see the sunlight turn blue coming onto the chapel floor ?The vine covered chapel itself was warmed on this cool day by the lighted candles and the breaths of those who prayed.The benches placed here and there along the path drew me.Benches are for resting, praying, writing and stillness.Statues of angels keep us company as we walk the path through the trees.The breeze feels good on our cheeks.

This sacred acre in Florida is called the Mission De Nombre De Dios,Mission of the Name of God,in St.Augustine.The first Mass was celebrated on American soil in September of 1565 on this spot.It has history. My thoughts go in this direction:What name do I call God? What words do I use to say who He is to me?

Beauty....Company....Stillness....Loved One...Peace...Oasis.....Joy...Holy,Holy,Holy.