solitary moments

  A glass jar sits by  my desk. I have started to collect moments in the jar, things that happened that I want to remember. I want them to be there so that on a rainy, cold, uninspired day, I will remember. In the jar, along with the slips of paper that the moments are captured on, are three pens, purple,blue and yellow. They brighten the whole thing up.I gaze at the jar often and wonder what it would look like if I had done this for many years instead of a few months.

 One of the memories is of a few days before Christmas when the family gathered here. As a tradition, someone reads the Bible narrative of the birth of Christ, usually the oldest grandchild. This year , the oldest was away at boot camp, so we were all  a bit wistful to begin with . Then Riley, the next oldest read and as he did I was struck by the sudden depth of the silence surrounding us. It was almost like we had never heard these words before. I rested in that holy silence and surrounded by those I love, never wanting it to end.

Many memories are not in the jar and these are the wisps of happenings that will stay with me forever and have changed the way I look at life.The small white butterfly who danced around me on a hot hillside in Australia as I sat alone and miserable. It just stayed and stayed and I just knew, as inexplicable as it was, that this was a visit. I even took a picture from the spot to mark what happened.A few months later, a young man at church, who I barely know, asked it I had had an encounter with a butterfly and if so it was my Mother comforting me.

 In a small quiet chapel at a retreat house in Alabama. I feel called to leave my room, go there and kneel. On the altar is a golden monstrance with the host exposed . My head is bowed and when I glance up I hear this: "This is all that matters".I am stunned and then I think, "Yes, when you think about it, this is truth".I am grateful beyond words for this solitary moment.

Tailor sitting alone in my room in 1989. On the worn yellow rug with the door shut,  just a few minutes to pray..I said one word, " Jesus" and then it happened, an occurrence that I have no name for. I was filled with something that was so powerful, I was afraid it would lift me and carry me away. Love? I don't know what it was and I have never felt it again. I was so fearful of leaving my children that I got up and then tried to write about it.I think this phenomenon is recognized in Buddhism as well and to me it seemed like a small taste of heaven.

Without these moments of solitude, none of these things would have happen.I crave solitude because my spirit knows what can be there waiting, beyond my wildest dreams."Eye has not seen ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love Him."We sang that yesterday.