Bookends of Healing
They were like magnets. When I arrived at the chapel for 7 AM Eucharist, my choice was clear. I scooted to the front row to sit near the doctor and her scrub nurse.
After the service and breakfast together, Brother Paul (of the Franciscan Order) told me of when rain fell upward. Then he encouraged me to share my own Holy Land mystical experience with him. It was good for me to get used to articulating, in the words of Rumi, My Note*.
I told Paul about that time on the Temple Mount when, for a few seconds, the hum of humanity cushioned all the other sounds on the soft cloud of Goodness…the time for a few seconds I was certain my part was about the Universality of Christ.
*From a poem by Rumi
Always Bridging 