Blessings come in many forms and although sometimes they come disguised as trials, I like to think that over the years, I’ve gotten a little better at spotting them…even in their least recognizable costumes. The fact is, I haven’t.
There’ve been a series of these hard-to-recognize blessings in my life this year and in a few cases I struggled to find the good. Eventually, sometimes only in retrospect, I came to see that “…all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.” (Rom 8:28).
Recently, I spent some time at Saint Joseph Abbey near Covington, Louisiana. While I was there, I was afforded a rare opportunity early one morning to attend Lauds at the abbey with the Brothers, and those studying to be Brothers. I’ve mentioned before that I’m an early riser, so the 6 AM Saturday rendezvous was all but perfect for me. There were a few other lay-people, scattered about in the pews as the black-robed Benedictines began to shuffle in through the sanctuary to their spot in the choir and take their seats.
As I looked around at the murals of saints, angels, Mary and of course Christ himself, hands raised in blessing, at the center of the dome of the apse, I was consumed in bewildered awe of my surroundings. The Brothers began to pray and chant. As my tears rolled down, my burdens rose up. Soon the collection of leaden worries that I had brought to offer the Lord were like chaff at the threshing floor; swept away and carried to Him by Psalms, psalter and response offered in melody to the very Creator and Giver of all. He took them without the slightest change in expression.
Those things I had so concerned myself with, the problems I was worshiping with all my thoughts and plans about how to handle them, were now His and it seemed He received them as gift. Would that I had seen them that way as well. Would that I had recognized those blessings as opportunities “to kiss the waves that throw me up against the Rock of Ages.” – Charles Spurgeon.
So here I am a few days later, not without thoughts of the things I’ve given over to Him but those thoughts have changed in nature. What I had allowed to become weights dragging me down I now see are wings that carried me to Him. Thank you Benedictines of Saint Joseph Abbey for your song. Thank you Brother Leo for the cookies and thank you Heavenly Father for humbling me in the presence of these good men.
