Smiles

"Haven't seen that in a long time.  Nice to see it so early in the day!" my  husband commented early this morning. "What?"  I had asked.  I was smiling, upon rising.  I haven't done that in a long time ...since Oct. 9, 2010.  That was the last time I smiled in the morning, upon rising.  Dawn has always come pretty easily to me.  Rarely do I hit the snooze button, wish night would last longer.  Its a temperament thing.  Us cholerics are usually chomping at the bit to get the day moving ...so many things to do.  Rarely do we see a mountain ahead of us, too high to climb.  We don't give the tasks ahead a whole lot of thought ...other than ....they need to be done.  It's a great trait of the choleric.  The flip side is that we can steamrole through, getting things checked off our list, missing the finer, often important details around us.  The windows need washing, but we might trample on the flower bed while doing it.  Oops!  It's been years now of knowing that about myself and trying to pay closer attention to the details that don't automatically appear on my radar.  While others may rise, wishing the day ahead had not yet arrived, forcing themselves to smile ..., smiling is usually part of my rising ...just happens.
It came to me the other day that I will never return to who I was ...I am different.  God has made me different.  I've thought a lot lately about the religious who've dedicated their lives to others.  Staying in a place for one year, two, maybe three.  Growing to know and love the people they serve ...growing roots in a place among friends, while they strive to bring themselves and others closer to God.  Boom! One day, they are reassigned, sent elsewhere to serve.  I've loved some of those people ...watched them go off to distant places.  Often we never hear from them again and when we do ...what a gift, a fond memory returns.
Yesterday in my daughters history lesson, we read about a quiet Franciscan friar who ran an orderly monastery in Spain.  He just wanted to live quietly, praising God in the simplicity of life.  King Charles I met him, was impressed by his demeanor and sent him to Mexico, as bishop, to re-establish the Spanish mission of bringing Christ to the world.  It had gotten a bit "off track".  This new bishop had ZERO interest in going over to this strange land.  He had to go!  He had to be OBEDIENT.  I really don't like that word when it applies to me.  Though I do like it when it applies to everyone else!  Off he went, crossing the Atlantic ...no internet then, no cell phones ....just ...so long beloved country, dear friends, old life!   God changed his course ...without warning, because ...He saw it best to change him, this simple friar, bring him even closer to the source of all Truth.
I've cried and I've yelled, shaken my fists at the sky, pounded the ground with them, screamed the most gutteral howls from deep down from the sheer pain of this loss.  Why?  How? Please, no! Dear God, please, with every ounce that I am, please, please spare me this agony.  Please.  But,  Our Lord has chosen this agony for me.  He has plucked me from a known life, to an unknown, without changing the geography of my place.  God has chosen, planned from all eternity, to make me different ...it is His plan, His divine will.  I can fight that for the rest of my life.  Or, I can lean into it ...and cooperate, be obedient, embrace, strive to love this cross.  He has given me free will.  He has left that choice for me.  He will not impose my acceptance.  I must choose.  I do.  I accept.  With every aching cell, every tear, every loneliness running through my veins, every sorrow resting on my shoulders ...I accept, dear Lord, with love ...and even gratitude ...that through this, you will save me, form me to be pleasing to You.  Somehow, as I do that, this unfathomable acceptance of a nightmare beyond human imagination ...I find peace.  I am not in charge.  I am simply a follower, just as we all are meant to be.  Unclench my fist ...and I can reach for His hand.  Open my eyes and I can see the beauty I once had give way to the beauty before me, all around me. Close my mouth ...and listen to His Word, The Word made flesh ...Jesus Christ.  Relax the stiffened back ...and bend with His ways ...rest in Him.  The tears can run angry and searing ...or they can purify, cleanse ...release the grief to make way for the grace.  I can scream at His plan ...or I can sing Him praise.  He has left that choice to me.  He has not left me the choice of my daughter ...that He has indeed taken, for now.  But other choices ...He has left plenty.  My days are still occupied groping in the dark for my girl gone missing ....likely, this will be for a while.  But there is a new life, a new way for the taking.  A life that keeps Christ at the center ....as I had thought I'd done ...but He wants more ...he wants everything,  everything.  I stretch, I reach, I follow ...I fail.  And I begin again.
On this feast of the Epiphany, as the three kings approach the manger, having followed the brilliance of a star with faith ...let me too follow the brightness, fullness of His ways.  Let me, like the kings leave all behind and follow with trust.  

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace.  Amen.