Space Between Raindrops 

Sunday morning we lingered in bed tucked away from the cold reality of our uninsulated room, as the rain came down and the aspen turned outside. In each stint of wakefulness God said that we are now more spirit than flesh. There is no reason to have reservations about conducting the choir or any other work the spirit will lead my hands to perform. My meditations, antiphonal. You will know me

It is so good to read the books of the same spirit, the same breath. My breath is no different than Maria’s (Valtorta), whose love runs so unfathomably deep that it lets us know (KNOW!) intimately the holy family, as if we are now members of it. Jesus tempted by Satan in the desert, who came to the son of God as a man and went on talking using the clever tools of man. How often do I give in to the devil’s tricks, for the sake of not loving, but keeping placid peace with my neighbor? How often do I appease what my undiscerning mind sees as my fellow man?

Oh Lord, do not show me these answers but grant me the wisdom of your good son, who gathered strength by keeping silent but rebuked the devil with the truth. If I may tell the next tempter, “We do not live by bread alone, but by the word of God,” then let me fall to my knees in gratitude. Give me, and all of your people, the presence to declare to the enemy, “You shall worship your God.”

There are so many spaces to explore within the gospel. We are now more spirit than flesh, thus able to reach them. This is how we will keep warm this winter. There is no going back to the earth, where the cracks were hollow: nothing.

2013, Amaya Engleking


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