Yesterday, a friend from home asked me if I was lonely here. And suddenly I found the perfect adjective to describe my spiritual life here. God is here. I am here. And I long to see more of his action. I know that he is moving in my life and changing me as I live here. I can see that happening in small ways here and there. And I'm not looking for anything big or grandiose. What I want and long for is Jesus, radically Jesus. I'm learning to see him in the little things-the cute older people at Mass on Sundays and the people around me who might not know Him but they do know a bit of what love is. I want to be safe in the arms of Love and to know that I am safe and loved. Unfortunately, I am NOT serving a tame Lion and that will not happen. But I also want dynamite and that's an explosive, so I'm really not going to be safe. St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle...
But I am lonely. And that is something on which the Enemy feeds. As Wormtongue said in The Two Towers, "Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in? So fair, yet so cold like a morning of pale Spring still clinging to Winter's chill." The Enemy longs to make us feel alone and abandoned. But these words are poison. I may not see God here but he is here. I am not alone; I am simply lonely. God will never abandon me.
In other news, I had some good times with Gabriel and Daniela last night. We had fish for dinner and while Marian (Maria Antonia, who will now be referred to as "Marian" despite having been previously referred to as "Antonia.") was removing the "espinas" from the fish, Gabriel told me that at his grandmother's house, they always give the cats the bones of the fish so they can eat the scraps. And then he remembered that I have a cat. (I've shown him pictures of Rina before.) So he wanted to know if Rina might like to have the bones from our fish. I supposed that she might, so he wanted to know if he could give them to her. I reminded him that Rina was very far away so he wanted to mail the bones to her. His father told him that he could send her the bones with a note that said "Para Rina" which means "For Rina" but they would probably rot and stink before they got to Rina. And then Rina would not want them. So we will not be sending Miss Kitten any fish bones. But the little guy does think about her. I think he wants her to come visit us. He also wants a dog and his mother does not.
I've been working on this post for close to an hour and a half. I multitask WAY too much. But yeah, that's always been the way I am.
In other news, whilst I am not eager to go home or longing to immediately return to the States immediately, I do desperately miss people. I miss coffee dates and laughter over stupid things and a lot of other things. People can feel free to mail themselves to me. You can sleep in the bathroom; it's almost comfortable.