In the last few months, I have felt an unusual stirring in my soul. A pull. A tug. Whatever you want to call it.
I don’t know what it is he wants, but I know God wants something.
When I was a child, I was completely in awe and would love nothing better than to spend hours in prayer. This fervor faded a little bit when I was started college. It never completely went away, but saying I’ve had a 10-year spiritual dry spell wouldn’t be completely inaccurate.
In the last few months, I know he’s been calling me back. I have this overwhelming sense that there is something he wants me to do, but I have no idea what it is. I can’t see the big picture. All I can see so far are the little steps.
He asked me to start reading again. Every morning before work, I read as much as I can from the bible over breakfast. So far I’ve been through the Gospel of John, Exodus, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, and 1 Samuel.
He’s been nudging me to pray the rosary at various unusual times. A few times in bed after my husband was asleep, and occasionally at other points. This is kind of strange, as I never really liked praying the rosary, even when I was younger.
I stumbled across St. Gemma. Never heard of her before, but I can’t stop reading about her.
Last month, on what happened to be a Thursday, I had an overwhelming urge to pray in front of the Eucharist. I went before the tabernacle at 6, and by the time I looked at my watch it was almost 7. What happened during this hour was unlike anything I had experienced since I was a girl. Non-stop tears, and an inexplicable desire to wear the hood of my jacket. So I did. And more tears. More about this in a future post.
I don’t know where this is leading. I’m trying to be patient.
I can’t focus on anything else.
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