Mom (Argentina 2023)

<<< 07/06/2023 Post Santa Fe Letter 2023 Mom: You look so simple there, at the feet of your Son. So white, why don’t you wear any color? I think maybe it’s to highlight your humility, your simplicity, your desire to go unnoticed, not to stand out in front of the greatness of the One who, from above, seems to illuminate and outline your white silhouette against that background, also white. How is it possible that I see you? White on white. Then, I remember the Eskimos who distinguish dozens of whites, because otherwise they couldn’t survive in that eternal ice. Could it be that you want me to add the color? I see many colors and I don’t understand, why do they sing all the time? Why does no one tell me what to do? Something doesn’t add up, it makes me uncomfortable. Where is the “new”? Mass, adoration, talk... nothing else? I turn around and look at you again Mother, there on your knees, your eyes closed, your head covered. I don’t understand the veil, it looks different. Your hands embrace your belly; they tell me you are the Virgin of the Embrace, it makes sense, I think... I still long for colors, although I see you differently now. They talk to me about living, as if we were dead, what does that mean? I look at Him, maybe by looking so much I’ll understand something. You motionless, at his feet, kneeling. The first adoration, in that imposing monstrance, in that place, captivates me. The next day, in the smallness of the chapel, it’s harder for me. I want to return to that moment, how to do it? I lack grace, that must be it, I have to confess. Then... “boom!” I feel that you see me and say to me: “My daughter, I love you just the same, with or without sin, imperfect.” All that time what I was seeing was my own framework with which I wanted to measure God and make my experience of that weekend “fit.” Whether I was surprised or not, the organization, how they didn’t see this, how they didn’t think of that, why they sing here and not there... “Boom!” Freedom. That was it. Freedom. God blows as He wants, where He wants. Who am I to say what is “the right way”? Who am I to judge? Who am I to try to understand God’s love in others? Your LOVE EXCEEDS me. I can’t explain it, much less fit it into “my” framework. You are God and you love; nothing more, and nothing less... I still struggle. I think about it, I pray it. Did I invent it to give it meaning? It’s hard to explain, to put into words. Freedom, that. Meanwhile, you remain there Mom. Teach me about your simplicity, teach me about that freedom that the Spirit allowed me to sense this weekend... Teach me to return; to return to Him, to the Eucharist. That I thirst for Him, that I remember He is there. That I am lucky to be able to approach often. That I rekindle my love and rediscover His presence. That I always know how to say YES to Him. Amen >>>