At times discernment has not been difficult ~ I know what’s in my heart ~ I know my passion ~ I know the fire that’s burning inside of myself ~ I know God calls me there.
So what about when all those opportunities are confiscated by man. What about when the jealousy of man murders someones future in more ways than one. What about when every path ~ passage ~ and doorway is slammed shut in your face ~ or when you knock longingly and no one will let you in.
What about jobs that are lost ~ dreams that are lost ~ friendships that are lost ~ relationships that are lost ~ what about when our purpose is denied and lost forever in the passing of time and age ~ What then ~ when we realise we are the ones that have been sacrificed by others. Life slain beyond repair.
What happens when we are uninvited ~ rejected ~ excluded ~ devastated?
What happens then is that the most beautiful God comes to meet us in a very unique ~ precise ~ tailored ~ special ~ and absolutely unexpected way. He gives us rights that no one else has rights to ~ that no one else has access to ~ that no one else is blessed with. Grace bestowed above and beyond the law of those below.
Sacred gifts ~ that in part are realised in isolation ~ and in desperation ~ and eventually realised in imagination. And then what all at once was a conscious ~ unstoppable ~ unbearable ~ desperate falling into the blackest most devoid exterior abyss of a living nightmare ~ Somehow ~ Someway ~ becomes a curiously unconscious ~ labour-panging birthing ~ into a wondering that gives way to an interior dream that comes seemingly not from the conscious-you at all ~ but from God.
I Am desperately sad at my Catholic Diocesan/Parish/Church life coming to an end ~ I mourn like a grieving bride mourns when her betrothed beloved is killed upon the day of returning from duty ~ or like Rachel lamenting and wailing over the loss of her children. No one can comfort her ~ no one can give her back what is lost for eternity. The hurting is guttural and leaves a death stench in the bottom of ones gut. When pain supersedes all pain, and one feels slowly and very publicly hung drawn and quartered by the very Church that she so intimately Loved ~ and by the very conception that once upon a time she had secretly bequeathed her life and her heart to.
And then beyond the agony ~ beyond the crucifixion ~ beyond the law ~ beyond all death and termination ~ a little dot like a blip of life mutates ~ and mutation by mutation life slowly regenerates into something of His doing ~ and into something of our trusting in whatever it is that He is doing.
And its full of lonely wonder.
A small amount of gifted money ~ added to a smaller amount of savings has meant that (with no other possible option) a 550 year old unexceptional (from the outside) property, that appears to be unpractical or impossible to sell at a decent price (in order that anyone can realistically move forward), now has to be rethought ~ rejigged ~ and somehow reincarnated.
I can not continue to live under the ‘oppression’ that quietly rejoices in the fact that I have walked away from the Catholic Church ~ and from everything that was supposed to be a part of my future ~ a victory to my oppressors ~ Two Judas’s ~ the Cohabitatio ~ and the Church ~ both betraying me ~ both feeding me each to the others oppression ~ neither with any alms outstretched in mercy ~ and never any consolation.
For hidden beneath the unexceptionalness of the ceilings in this humble little grade-2 listed property, is one of the most exceptional medieval roofs in the country ~ never before seen by a soul (other than the inhabitants of this cottage ~ and the odd workman). Hidden above the modern plasterboard ceilings is a heavenly roof ~ even more grand than these ones below.
Its far more remarkable than even these pictures (which were the best examples that I could find online.) My roof has far heavier queen beams ~ with giant wooden pegs joining them all together ~ and Arcs like a Church.
And so in absolute desperation at loosing my sacred little S† Sabina’s chapel to worship in, I decided to get a quote from a carpenter friend. Having looked into it previously with a bigger company, it was way beyond my means. However my carpenter friend has broken down each part of the work into affordable bite-size portions. Soon he is going to put my stairway to Heaven in ~ and then to strengthen and lay a floor ~ and eventually he will insulate ~ board ~ and plaster between all the beams.
I Am going to design and create my very own private chapel ~ where I can reverently worship Chris† in the Blessed Sacrament ~ and the Chapel and the Tabernacle will be designed with the greatest of Love.
Here in the Heavens I can worship until my heart’s content.
And not only that ~ it is such a massive loft space, (its spans the entire three rooms of the floor below) that as well as the chapel ~ I can also move my sanctuary up here. There will be a starlight window put in, where I can climb out on to the back roof if need be ~ stargazing. And I will have a little lamp lit corner with 2 barrel chairs for Spiritual Direction ~ with tea and coffee-making facilities ~ & my writing desk will be placed below the Gable End window overlooking the garden ~ below the stars. And who knows . . . . maybe even one day I can have a small bathroom up here too.
However most of all ~ for now ~ I just cant wait to Worship in my chapel. A House Church ~ Just like 73 Sydney Street. And who knows ~ one day it might not just be a hermitage ~ or a monostery (a monastery for One.) ~ One day it might even become a blessed Ignatian medieval cottage retreat ~ after all ~ the property was built in the age of S† Ignatius.
The house opposite is called Lamb House.
Maybe this one should be called Shepherds Rest ~ or Shepherdess ~ or maybe it should be called ~ The Way of Love.
God is Faithful.