When I opened my journal this morning a pamphlet fell out.
I read the title: Saint Joseph’s Abbey.
I assumed my wife had put it there for me to find because I’ve said time and time again that I’ve always wanted to go on retreat.
I continue to hold onto the hopes and dreams of rejuvenating my somewhat deflated and bruised religious spirit.
My wife recently went to the Abbey on a field trip with a busload of children from a CCD class she was teaching.
She sent me a text message that read:
How come little kids like to sing on buses so much?
I thought about her comment and discovered something possibly deeper.
As adults, we want to recapture that child-like innocence, unencumbered by the many complexities of our lives; we want, quite simply, to sing.
Though we might not admit that to many for fear of ridicule, I think we yearn for that simpler mentality and way of life.
For too many years, I’ve been angry at a God that I thought didn’t understand me as I traveled down the various bumpy roads of my so called life.
I stepped away from faith in my life and held a clenched fist to the sky while asking the age old question: why?
These days, I try to think more of the Johnny Nash song as I smile;
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.
Ahh, music, it’s one of my soul’s visceral needs; a most precious gift in my life from a higher power.
I see certain people that have magically surfaced in my life, as if to provide me with some much needed emotional buoyancy.
I can’t help but wonder if they have always been woven into the ever-expanding fabric of my life.
I believe it is through divine providence and grace that I’ve made it to here; a fact I’m sadly realizing right now.
While I’ve never been a big “God” kind of guy, I do feel that it’s time me and Him had some dialogue –uninterrupted.
What better way than to take a trip in February to a sacred and quiet place where I might finally be able to listen to all that I’ve been too busy to hear.
It’s time I rediscovered that crystal silence I knew so long ago as a child; the time in my life when singing was breathing.
It’s ironic that my youngest daughter was responsible for the placement of the pamphlet.
Maybe she understands better than I do that my soul has been living too long in silence.
And it’s time for it to once again sing.
It’s time for me to finally shed the bitterness and regret.
Life is just too damn short and in the end, it slowly eats you up.
Maybe I’m getting smarter in my old age. Yeah, sure…
ps. there may be a guest author taking over the blog for a tiny bit.
I need a well deserved break with my girls. Stay tuned.
If she says ‘yes’, you’re in for a treat.