Faith

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I was thinking about Great Britain this morning...

I thought of the countryside...the green, rolling hills, the ancient stone fences still used to enclose Jacob sheep...smoke curling up out of cottage chimneys. To be sure, it is a beautiful and inspirational place. When in high school, reading books about Great Britain and King Arthur and biographies of medieval times and kings and queens was a passion of mine. My family could tell you; I lived and breathed the whole England, Princess Diana thing...It was my dream to go there and see it for myself. When I was sixteen, my parents found a way to send me there with a group from school. That was money well-spent...I was in Heaven I thought...

Apart from the scenery and the history of the place, I discovered a new interest. One involving just as much beauty and meaning. I grew a new fondness for cathedrals...I was able to go into a few really interesting ones. The most memorable was St. Patricks Cathedral in Ireland..Wow!. I walked in and it looked ancient and smelled ancient, and breathed of not only history, but something even more special...it breathed of peace. As I walked in through the great arched doorway, the afternoon sun was coming through the stained glass windows... falling softly onto the stone floor. I walked around and touched the walls, thinking how special it was to be able to be touching them. Then a group of people started coming in and filling up the seats. I asked if I was allowed to be in the area and what was going to be happening...what kind of service there was going to be. It being a Catholic church, they have different masses throughout the day...this was going to be a choral one. I was told I could stay, so I found a spot toward the back on a bench polished with time and wear...and waited quietly.

Soon a group of young boys came in. They had on red and white choir robes with lace around the collar; the collars framing fresh, freckled faces topped with bright red hair :) (well, most of their hair was red) then, everything got quiet and organ music groaned and came to life and the most beautiful, clear voices started to sing. aAnd as they sang and I sat with my eyes closed, I thought of all the people who must have passed through St. Patricks throughout its history. How many people, I wondered, sat just where I was sitting...maybe with their eyes closed... seeking something profound, just as I was?...did they find what they were looking for?

I came away with such a peaceful feeling that day...but it wasn't the cathedral itself that brought the peace to me...nor the songs I heard...it was that I closed my eyes and was quiet and let it in. Indeed, it was a majestic, spiritual and beautiful place full of history, but God brought peace to me when I opened the way for it to come in...

More and more I am aware of how important it is to take the time to allow peace in my days. My liife is busy, bustling. loud and noisy...sometimes disappointing....sometimes just plain sad...sometimes happy, but happiness all by itself doesn't quite do it. We all need quiet little corners of inspiration to go to so that God can bless us with the peace for our souls that He so much wants to give to us and that we so much need. Humans weren't meant to just work and go and go and work and not rest. Our bodies were made to rest and, more importantly, our minds were made to thrive on it. If our minds are too busy and too clogged and too tired, we can't hear God's voice...we can't hear a "still, small voice" if we aren't listening...

God never goes away from us, we go away from Him. He never fails to hear our prayers (even before we ask them) and He never fails to speak to us and guide us, but He is a gentleman. He waits and hopes that we will hear Him, and His hands are full of peace, whether it's in an ancient cathedral or the cathedral of our minds, God is waiting to speak to our hearts and to give us the peace we seek...

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