Good morning…
The night we first met, I sat next to her at dinner. Fragile feeling. Truth-tellers. Something we said sparked her soul to recite for me a poem: “Even if I don’t see it again – nor ever feel it,” words from her heart came soft and sure. “I know it is – and that if once it hailed me, it ever does. And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction – not as towards a place, but it was a tilting within myself, as one turns a mirror to flash the light where it isn’t.”
As our food sat still, she continued slow and steady: “I was blinded by that – and swam in what shone at me – only able to endure it by being no one and so specifically myself.”
Quietly she concluded: “I thought I’d die from being loved like that.”
I sat speechless. Mesmerized. In absolute awe. My soul sensed the flickering light: When you welcomed me and I saw your face, it was like seeing the face of God (Genesis 33:10, CEV). Two days later, she spoke a poem into the microphone, and I jotted in my retreat notes “Annunciation by Marie Howe.” The same sacred words stirred me again, flashing light into my ears.
Curious, now I google the meaning of the title. “Annunciation” is the announcement by the angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary that she would birth God’s saving son. Or a representation of this holy edict in any form of art. My mind stretches open: “What does this poem and this person have to do with Jesus Christ?”
I begin to wonder: Even if we do not see it – nor feel it – once hailed we know it is, tilting our true self to reflect God’s light where it is not. Those who are [spiritually] wise will shine brightly like the brightness of the expanse of heaven, and those who lead many to righteousness, [will shine] like the stars forever and ever (Daniel 12:3, AMP).
…Sue…
