A Tale of Grace

On my way to Saint Benedict’s for our annual Oblate Renewal Day, I drove from Tennessee to Minnesota. The road construction was like none I had ever experienced. All through Illinois there were continual long lines of waiting cars. One such wait was nearly an hour. I was not looking forward to the 1,000-mile drive home. However, never outguess the power of prayer.

If I was writing scripture, I would tell this tale of grace:

In the Northland, women of common unity lived beneath a dome which reached out and circled the globe. Accomplished through rituals of song and a shared sacred meal their living gave life to many persons. Even those who did not know this energy of grace flowed from the center were touched, often healed and many times calmed, always blessed.

One who loved these women with all her heart faced a journey she traveled alone. In a way, it was a metaphor for life lived and living still to come.

Setting out alone, the gray sky suggested further turmoil on the road. Surprised to find not a car on the road, she quickly sped to beat the storm.

7:00 a time of song.
This she knew and began to sing with them. All the way to another state and not a bit of traffic. What could it be?  

Storm clouds continued to threaten but they were always behind her. Never once a drop but lightening could be seen in the rearview mirror.

Lot of little metal bugs seemed to part as if Moses himself was holding high his hands. She looked at the clock and it was noon. That was it, the song reached into Illinois and again the path was clear. 

Miles and miles opened up. Not a construction problem to be had. No traffic and more miles sped by. How could this be? 

5:00 and she felt the song wrap around and carry her past her planned night stay. Oops—only 200 more miles and she would be home!

Could she do it? Certainly not alone. It was as if she drove on air. It was then she realized she never was alone. 

She knew that many songs throughout the day were floating through the air carrying her to her destination. And, there it was. The log house she left just one week before. So much of life had happened.

She bowed to the northwest, said her prayers and sang to the shekinah promising to dance tomorrow.

P.S. I really did drive 1,000 miles in one day. No construction. No traffic. Just floating along as if on eagle wings.

Pat Pickett, OblSB

Photo: Finally home! Taken by Pat Pickett