Though we know one another's names and recognize one another's faces, we never know what destiny shapes each life. The script of individual destiny is secret; it is hidden behind and beneath the sequence of happenings that is continually unfolding for us. Each life is a mystery that is never finally available to the mind's light or questions. That we are here is a huge affirmation; somehow life needed us and wanted us to be.
To sense and trust this primeval acceptance can open a vast spring of trust within the heart. It can free us into a natural courage that casts out fear and opens up our lives to become voyages of discovery, creativity, and compassion. No threshold need be a threat, but rather an invitation and a promise. Whatever comes, the great sacrament of life will remain faithful to us, blessing us always with visible signs of invisible grace. We merely need to trust.
There is a church in Umbria, Little Portion, already old eight hundred years ago. Abandoned and in disrepair, it was called St. Mary of the Angels, for it was known to be the haunt of angels. Often at night the country people could hear angels singing there.
What was it like, to listen to the angels, to hear those mountain-fresh, those simple voices, poured out of the bare stones of Little Portion in hymns of joy? No one has told us. Perhaps its needs another language that we have still to learn, an altogether different language.