Could he be an angel?

Eerily familiar and yet strange, I find myself tied up in the same motion (a better word for “writing”) as I was in the last, most recent post. Why do I say that? Because I, again, awoke from my sleep by the sound of a voice. This time though, the voice was as if it came from a young boy, not too low; a bit higher than a man’s voice, but not so high as a girl.

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After being pulled out of that subconscious state between dreamland and wakefulness, I asked myself, “What was he saying?” It wasn’t a mumble. It was more as though far off in the distance. “We adore you. We adore you,” he said. Yes, that was it. He was praying, but more than just prayer, it was worship.

I began to pray. I prayed — “We adore you. We adore you.” Since my dilemma of four months ago, God has been so gracious to me. He prays for me. He prays out of me, in triumph, unity and love. How can a soul be so graced as I and yet still have hurt, fear, bitterness and pain?

I was told to “…unite my suffering with Christ.” And, that is what I have been striving for. Where this will ultimately lead, I do not know. My prayer life has been disrupted a thousand-fold. But, it has also united me with the blood of the cross, the spiritual life of contemplatives, the sound of an angel in my soul and the song of Christ in my heart.

Thank you to all the priests, seminarians, ex-seminarians, women of God, real-life and Internet friends and acquaintances who have given me the strength and courage to carry on.

PEACE!