Anniversaries
Anniversaries are often times for reflection. A year ago this weekend we moved into our new home in the gulf coast. It coincided with the homecoming celebration and picnic at the little Creole church that is now our parish. Although the actual date was a couple of days ago, the homecoming carries much more meaning for me. It was, and is, a homecoming of sorts for us, too.
We constructed our new house, so my husband and I were living apart for a few months, he to supervise the build from a borrowed RV, and me in our old home as I finished out my contract. We moved in as the tents were going up on the church lawn. John had already made a few acquaintances and was volunteering. I sold and signed a few books as part of our sponsorship of the event.
A year later, and oh what a year, I’m feeling a part of this community. I’m at home here, and it’s a lovely gift.
I knew I would miss my afternoons at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, and wondered if I could ever find my peaceful spot here. All I need to do is stand at my kitchen window or step outside onto our porch and look at the bay. A bay, I discovered, named the Bay of the Holy Spirit, la bahía del Espíritu Santo, by the Spanish explorers in the 1500s.
Here I was, pining for the Holy Spirit. Silly me. I missed my blue-lit abbey; I got a blue expanse of sea and sky, and a continuous breeze from the water reminding me that God is here, surrounding me, lifting me, inside me, above me.
Every sunrise reminds me of this truth, that God is with us. I should know this, right? God is always present, whether we acknowledge this or not, but at this time in our lives, when the days could be dark and hopeless, I am acutely aware that he has brought us here to this place in the sun.
#Gratefultweets
Some years ago, years — wow–Matt Swaim started this #gratefultweet thing. Fr. Kyle Schnippel further explained it, and I picked up the habit of tweeting with gratitude instead of vitriol. I don’t think I’ve made social media any happier, but I can say that starting the day with a grateful heart has had an impact in my life. Every day is a gift. Every morning, when John and I survey our little piece of the bay as the sun comes up, we spontaneously offer a prayer of thanksgiving.
The birds are up at that hour, chirping away. If I’m paying attention, I see the dolphins swimming up to where the river empties into the bay, in search of breakfast no doubt. The osprey family that has nested next door goes out hunting. And I check out the yard for box turtles before sending Otis out. It seems they’ve found our little corner of paradise, too.
###
Sometimes I feel like I’m killing my followers with the daily views of sunrises, but each one is different, unique in special ways, like all of us! You can follow my #gratefultweets @bego.
