Carried By A Glacier

Dear Diary

After Mass this morning, Sister Mary Claire and I sat real quiet in the church pew for a little while after everyone left. I don’t know what she was praying about, but I was asking Jesus to help me understand how to trust Him better. Father LeRoy talked about praying in Jesus’ name and how God hears us when we do. Not just sometimes, but always—if it’s something for our soul. That made me feel something I can’t explain. It’s like getting a warm letter from Heaven.

After we had lunch (grilled cheese sandwiches and that soft spring lettuce from the garden), Sister said I should go out for some fresh air. So I took Mini and Omelette, down to the big rock near the edge of the field. That rock sits there like it’s been waiting a hundred years to be noticed again. Sister says it was once up in Canada and got carried here by a glacier ages ago. Imagine that. Something so still and quiet once traveling across the earth like a lost boat.

I sat there with Mini laying her head on my foot and Omelette pecking around for bugs in the grass, and I thought about what everlasting means. Forever seems impossible—but so does a rock riding on ice all the way from Canada. I suppose if God can do that with a rock, He can do things with us too, like moving our hearts to pray or giving us a little more courage when we’re scared.

I didn’t hear anything out loud, but it felt like Jesus was saying, “If you ask the Father anything in My name, He will give it to you.” I want to remember that when I feel small and unsure, like when I ask for help but don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to try again.

I didn’t want the sun to go down because it was one of those golden evenings where the sky looks washed in honey and the birds keep singing like they’re trying to get every last note in before bedtime. But Sister rang the bell from the porch, so I picked up Omelette and Mini followed behind, her bottom wagging like always.

Before I fall asleep tonight, here’s what I want to pray:

Dear Jesus,

I love You. Please help me remember that the Father hears me when I pray in Your name. Even if I don’t say everything right or know what to ask, You do.

Let my little prayers fly up to Heaven like sparrows, and may Your heart catch them.

Help me to trust that You know what I need better than I do.

And thank You for glacial rocks and for sisters who tell stories, and for hens and for corgis and for golden fields that remind me that forever might not be so far away after all.

Amen.

Love,

Kathy