This is the eleventh year that I’ve come to Our Lady of Grace, sometimes as a participant of Women Touched by Grace, sometimes as an oblate, sometimes as a teacher of a Women Touched by Grace group.

Women Touched by Grace is an Eli Lilly Sustaining Pastoral Excellence Grant for women clergy.  I was blessed to be part of the first WTBG group which gathered seven times between 2003 and 2006.  As a result of my relationship with the (Benedictine) sisters of Our Lady of Grace Monastery (with whom we shared worship, prayer, and play), I became an oblate of the monastery which has brought me back to monastery at least once every year. The bonus has been that I have been asked to return to facilitate Women Touched by Grace sessions for the second, and now the third group.

I was scheduled to leave Houston early yesterday morning, but when I got to the airport they were looking for volunteers to fly out on the afternoon flight (the flight to Indy the night before had been cancelled, and there were a slew of people yearning to get home).  It was one of those rare times when I could actually take a later flight–so for waiting, I got a $500 travel voucher, a first class ticket on the 1 PM flight, and a morning in the first class lounge.  

My seat mate on the flight was a young mom who was holding her one year old daughter, just three months older than my grandson Jonas. It made for a bit of adventure, but how nice to be able to be a flight grandma for a couple of hours.

So now I’m at the monastery.   Lilacs are blooming.  I have a lovely small room in the guest quarters.  I’ve walked the labyrinth, prayed the morning office with the sisters, and already had holy rest.

Sabbath means to cease to work.  Do you know how hard that is?  Friday is typically my Sabbath, although every now and then something gets in the way.   I truly try to keep Sabbath as a spiritual discipline, and today, Easter Friday, was marked on my calendar in green as Sabbath.

Of course, getting my mind to stop working is a whole other issue.  Although the last three days I’ve started early and worked late, my head is full today of things left undone.

I decided to start the day with a walk.  I planned a short walk around the neighborhood, only a few blocks or so, but as I was nearing Laneview, I noticed that the gate to the green space at the end of Balcrest was left open.

Here’s the conundrum:  although there is a sign that clearly says “no trespassing” there are other signs pointing out walking trails.  Which is it?  The road at the end of Balcrest leads to the water storage unit for the neighborhood, and after my dad died a few years ago, the only walking I could do was down this tree-lined road listening to Irish blessings and prayers on my iPod.

I decided to trespass and walk a little farther, and  I was immediately washed with the wonderful smell of spring flowers.  I decided to walk a little more, and when I rounded the curb, there was a sign indicating the beginning of a walking trails through the green space.

So I was off on an adventure.  I didn’t know where I’d end up; I had the sun to let me know which way was north, and I knew that eventually on the other side of the trees was Cypress Creek, so how lost could I get?

Not at all.  My little walk up and down the streets of my neighborhood took me on a nearly hour hike through woods and trees and along a beautiful waterway.  The smell of flowers, birds flitting across my path, lush green.  A very good way to cease to work.

When I was on my Sabbatical two years ago, one of my plans was to walk the paths on this green space along Cypress Creek.  I never got around to it.  But on this Sabbath, I found a
path and I walked it.

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!