Sweet Trail of "Snails"

It is April 30th and snowing in Cottonwood, Idaho.  I came up to the Monastery last Saturday, and in the words of James Taylor, I "looked like ashes and smelled like smoke."  A Sister was waiting for me, and got me settled into a room for some rest.  Rest is so healing, as are the "God with skin on" Sisters who live and minister here.  Whether it is triage, listening, or hugs, they are more than up to the task.

I was give a "Silent Retreatant" badge to wear so I didn't have to interact with all the other retreatants here (it is a busy time in the guest house), and have been going into the little chapel alone during prayer times instead of going over to the main church.  I take my meals in the little kitchen here - silence and solitude.  Time to think.  Time to pray.  Time to heal.  Time to grieve.  Time to let go.  Time to be open to my next steps.

I brought an odd assortment of things with me for this journey (a little light on clothes, but very heavy on reading materials).   I brought books of course, both fiction and nonfiction. I brought my journals from the last eight years, and read through each and every page.  Reading them made it clear that the current circumstances should come as no surprise.  But what did surprise me - and delighted me - was the clear trail marking God's presence throughout this span of time.  There was a trail of people, places, events that were resonant with God's signature.  Despite the pain, I could see that God as been present and with me all along!  What a hopeful discovery!

Trails figure prominently in the book I am reading (again), Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees.  I read it once ages ago, could not remember the plot very clearly, but knew grief figured prominently in the plot, and so it came with me.  And yes, there is an element of grieving and letting go in the book.  But the story line from the book that got my attention today involves graham crackers and marshmallows...

There is a character in the story who cannot stand to see anything suffer - or be killed - so when she would find a roach in the kitchen, she would make a trail of pieces of graham crackers and marshmallows that led to the door and outside - luring them out to safety before someone crushed them.    This odd trail to freedom becomes an important secondary theme throughout the book, and always made me smile.

Today I walked up to the Grotto in the Woods - an outdoor chapel on the Monastery grounds that is a special place I retreat to for prayer.  Dedicated to Mary, it has that creation/feminine energy that is so empowering - and healing.  I sat there pouring out my soul, and pondering my next steps.  After a time of silence and writing, I headed down the hill, and right into a snowstorm.  But it wasn't ordinary snowflakes, nor ordinary hail stones, but these solid-but-puffy snow/hail pellets (dare I call them snails?) that looked for all the world like small marshmallows.  I started laughing as this trail of marshmallow-like pellets rained down from heaven.

There will be a path - a trail.  And I will see it.  And it won't always be bitter - it may even be sweet.

Change is hard.  Hearts break.  Hearts heal.  God is faithful.  God is good.
Truth - time - and grace.

Healing,
Kim