Full of Grace

This week has been busy with a beautiful Bible study on Monday going over the virtue of Faith (one of the theological virtues- it can only be given by God first as a gift), a great study over the Israelites in the desert for 40 years, and why that had to happen, with Chrism Mass (one of my favorite Masses of the year, because it is when most, if not all, of the priests from the diocese come together to take the sacred oils back to their parishes, but also renew their priestly vows, which is so great during the year of the priest- St. John Vianney, pray for us!) concluded by the blessing from the bishop, Bishop Paul Swain, an opportunity to meet another student who is seeking better lifestyle choices, and celebrating a successful completion of a grace-filled consecration to Mary (well, really, to Jesus through Mary!), and all leading into Holy Week this next week. Now, granted, that's not meaning to say this week has not had it's hardships. This week, I found out dear friend of mine is suffering, and it is hard to see that. In fact, I was nearly in tears on my way down to (the Chrism) Mass yesterday, just realizing how much I wanted to help this person, and just couldn't be there right now. A book I'm reading, "Fuel And The Flame," which talks about campus ministry, talks about how everything starts with prayer. I was instantly reminded how I don't ask God specifically enough to do things, I can get caught in the general intercession for others. It's so important to remember, self, that you are so much more effective when you are direct in what you are asking for!

Moving on.....I wanted to be able to share a poem that reflects the beauty of this day in such a wonderful human light, especially on the feast of the Annunciation. I had made a trip out to the Bronx this last year over spring break, and was able to visit a beautiful community called the Sisters of Life (http://sistersoflife.org). They wear a white and blue habit, with a medal that has a portion of a poem on the back side, which was striking to all of us "missionaries" on out mission trip (as noted in the highlighted portion. I will leave you with "The Annunciation" by Rev. John Duffy. (http://freerepublic.com/focus/f-religion/682363/posts)

May God bless your week, and may nothing in your life be seen as "casual or small," but all a part of the Eternal Plan- Trust and say Yes to Him!

Mikki Breen

The Annunciation

And was it true, The stranger standing so, And saying things that lifted her in two, And put her back before the world's beginning? Her eyes filled slowly with the morning glow. Her drowsy ear drank in a first sweet dubious bird. Her cheek against the pillow woke and stirred To gales enriched by passage over dew, And friendly fields and slopes of Galilee Arose in tremulous intermixture with her dreams, Till she remembered suddenly...

Although the morning beams Came spilling in the gradual rubric known to every day, And hills stood ruinous, as an eclipse, Against the softly spreading ray, Not touched by any strange apocalypse Like that which yesterday had lifted her sublime, And put her back before the first grey morn of Time -- Though nothing was disturbed from where she lay and saw, Now she remembered with a quick and panting awe That someone came, and took in hand her heart, And broke irresistibly apart, With what he said, and how in tall suspense He lingered, while the white celestial inference, Pushing her fears apart, went softly home. Then she had faltered her reply, And felt a sudden burden of eternal years, And shamed by the angelic stranger standing by Had bowed her head to hide her human tears. Never again would she awake And find herself the buoyant Galilean lass, But into her dissolving dreams would break A hovering consciousness too terrible to pass -- A new awareness in her body when she stirred, A sense of Light within her virgin gloom: She was the Mother of the wandering Word, Little and terrifying in her laboring womb. And nothing would again be casual and small, But everything with light invested, overspilled With terror and divinity, the dawn, the first bird's call, The silhouetted pitcher waiting to be filled. I Sing of a Maiden Rev. John Duffy, C.S.s.R.