As I experience God as the source of my life, a longing wells up within me, a longing to grow older together with the living fountain of my life. Upon entering into myself, I find God. By coming to discover my original self, I come to God. As I befriend the silent darkness within me, I become more open to the hidden and mysterious dimension of myself. There, as I rest in the darkness, I uncover myself as a gift from God. I need to take up that gift and walk gently and compassionately with the sacredness that I am...I need to care for the precious gift that I am, preserve it, and hallow the ground from which it springs.
A note from Jerusalem Community in Paris:
Recently, Sr. Francesca-Marie wrote that a foundation of their community seems to be in gestation for the United States. She and several others spent time this summer gathering information and meeting with friends in the states for prayer and discernment. She asks us to pray in the Silence that the Lord of the harvest will send forth enough living American stones to build a solid foundation.
"Water from the moon" -- a Javanese proverb for what one cannot have. Why are we so full of these strange movements for what is not here? Longings get touched, yet have no place to expand into fullness. And what is longing anyway? Water. From the moon. I am not at home -- never have been. Not that I don't know at some levels my way around. I do. But in the end, I am alone. Still waiting. Still riding the swing of my childhood years with my feet stretching up to the clouds ... The person of a thousand dreams rarely realizes one. And worse, never gets broken by one -- and humanized ... So, what claims me? Perhaps only that I set my face toward the stars -- less compellingly than I could hope ... and yet, more tenaciously that I would wish. I face. Perhaps that is enough.