Poverty.

In a previous post (washed by the poor), I stated that I could not see what God was doing. The present most often overwhelms the future! Perhaps this is the way. Or perhaps this is a point from God's finger. Our "selves", as persons, blind us to the glories of God when we are not in perfect union. I'm not sure such a perfect union is possible during this temporary life, but I believe in God's grace. I also believe that sincere requests are answered. Whether we recognize or receive the answer is a different story!

On the journey home from a Nepal, my eyes and mind fell upon a quote from the heart of Thomas Merton: "It is not filth and hunger that make saints, nor even poverty itself, but love of poverty and love of the poor." Before the tears fell in the sudden solitude of a crowded air bus, I managed to scribble in the margin of the book "convicted." I have glimpsed God's hand on my life. Though this statement is profound to many, and perhaps meaningless to many, I want to share God's eye opening revelation.

I do not wish to embark on discussion of the meaning of saint, saintliness, or sainthood. This is a topic is too great for me and I still walk in the wake of many of God's mysteries. I know that we are called to sainthood. The Way is the same, but the journey is different for each of us. As I look back over the last month of God's activity in my life, of which these finite eyes can only glimpse, I see a thread weaving change in my heart, mind, and spirit concerning the poor. I cannot relate to poverty. I am most thankful for this. However, inability to relate to poverty must not be an inability to identify with the poor. I confess that in the beginning, my disgust with filth and dirt inhibited my sight and ability to love people despite their circumstance. Only God sees to the heart where we stop at the flesh. This is my humanity. But with every visit to the slum community, God somehow captivated my heart through these precious children. Hugs, caresses, and hands lost their cause for concern. Love penetrated the barrier of filth and dirt.

Though it was not until the last day that God's grace enabled me to embrace poverty, the change occurred--perhaps out of desperation. What if I never see them again? Will I see them in heaven? Do they know that I love them? I cannot speak for heaven or for the future. I can only speak in the present. In the present of my last day with those darlings, of one thing I am sure: my love is genuine. Unable to cross the language barrier, the only true expression of love was a smile and a touch. Jesus touched the blind man so that he would know His healing presence. Jesus touched the leper so that he could feel His love. There is power in a touch of love! The only true poverty is a life without it. May I not ever forget the grace of God's love and its cry for exposure. God told me long ago, "Love My people. Show them where I Am. Tell them how to find Me." This command was not for me, not this time. For through the love of these children, God revealed His presence and reminded me how to find Him. He's in every face, every laugh, every cry, every joy, and every pain. He's in every bit of muck and grime as well as in the cleanest of clean. He is in all things for He created all things. He is everywhere, even the least place I expect Him. Most of all, He is within me revealing what I cannot see through mortal eyes: Himself.