I’m sitting in Panera and 14 seconds after I typed the last word of this book about my pilgrimage to Lourdes, I hear singing in Latin. It sounds like the rosary being sung in Lourdes. I mean, it sounds EXACTLY like the rosary being sung in Lourdes.
I berate myself (and others) for not knowing better, seeing better. But there is only one who Knows us as we are meant to be known, and loves us anyway.
Sometimes discernment is hard. But sometimes, God just throws up his hands and does it for you. (Twice, if necessary.)
More than a year ago, a ridiculous dream formed itself in my heart. On May 5, 2018, it actually happened.
Brokenness lived under the blessing is transformed into a gift, not a burden. Every year in Lourdes, I get to relearn this.
In which we fly across the world to serve the sick and end up joining their ranks instead. In Lourdes, there are no accidents.
The saga of our as-yet fruitless search for answers, in honor of Undiagnosed Diseases Day.
In which I offer lame explanations for not writing here, because of all the other many kinds of writing that is happening in my life.
This is not a simplistic “God never closes a door without opening a window” speech. It’s just a reminder that a negative (or absent) response does not have to mean the end of a relationship with God.