Almost immediately as I got out of my car, the familiar air welcomed me. The last time I was here was before I was married. The smell of nature and the beautiful well-watered flowers were an instant therapy. I found a path that led me to the Chapel.
Looking inside from the door of the very tiny, match box-like building, I saw two nuns sitting in silence – one was wearing all white and the other all black. I entered and instinctively turned to my right, sitting on the very last bench at the back of the pew. The stillness was so tangible, it made me feel like some sort of a glitch in the system. - It felt unholy to look around so I quickly put my bag down, and promptly closed my eyes to get in synch.
After about 10 minutes, I slightly opened my eyes to notice the spiritual symbols around me. The unusual Christmas decoration on two trees – one to the left and the other to the right – several tea lights burning softly on a tray, taller candles neatly arranged, a framed photo of a “Father” with a beard as long as a palm tree.
As I sat, I could hear that someone entering from the back door and sitting to my left side. In the perfectly framed moment, there was not even a hint of temptation to turn back and look. However, I noticed the sound of her breathing. It was softly noisy. It reminded me of faint rumblings before a storm. I could tell she was one of the Nuns because she got up and walked to the front to grab some literature, and then returned to her seat. I loved her humanness, thinking to myself she didn’t let her awkward breathing stop her from entering the silent place.
At this point, I decided to bring back my focus to God. I wanted to center my attention on Him, even though my thoughts were rat-racing in my head. I felt inspired to ask God one question that would sort of put the random thoughts in their rightful place. Here’s my opening question for the quiet conversation:
“How has it been between us lately?”
I must say that God is the most “big picture” person that I know. The spirit of God led me through some powerful memories, too numerous for my small processing plant. My thoughts started to come alive in the form of vivid images and movie strips. He showed me that it’s been 10 years of a wild adventure with Him since the time I left my home and my family in 2001. 2001 -2011.
It’s the end of 2011!
Between listening, writing and the silent conversation, an hour had just flown by. So I decided to transition to my next favourite place in the Center, the grave yard – believe it or not.
Upon entering through the wooden triangular arch, I noticed immediately that a new gravestone has been added! It was newer, with some withered bunch of flowers tilted against it. Could the flowers be from a dear friend? Someone who has shared a sanctified life with the deceased? Grieving times of working together to perform spiritual disciplines? It brought tears to my eyes. I stared at it for a while. It read:
“Sister Mary Hastings Born (with an asterisk symbol) 28.12.1932 Died (with a cross symbol) 18.2.2010.”
The year 2010 felt raw and recent, while at the same time thinking 79 years ago, in the same month of December, a family celebrated the birth of a baby (perhaps somewhere in Germany) and now, somewhere in South Africa, here lies the remains of this life. I started to reflect on life as a journey, my journey, the journey of the people I care about. I pulled out my journal again, and began to write…
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