Morning Prayer

It's 6:44 AM and I can hear rain falling gently outside my window. A little hint of sunlight plays in my curtains. Sleep was hard to fall into. I close my eyes again and promise I will get up in fifteen minutes.

6:45 is marked by a knock at the door that jolts me out of sleep. Was it next door? I don't hear anything more. Fine, I'll get up.

I crawl out of bed and dress. Outside my door is a quite hall full of closed doors. Down the stairs, the hall below is identical excepting one detail. A set of double doors at the West end of the hall is my destination this morning. Someone is waiting for me.

"They shall be filled"
The words meet me in a blue glow as I open the door, so close, I could touch them in a few steps. The Beatitudes are lit by the sun from the other side of the glass. No dazzle of sunlight this morning; only a faint, even light from the cloudy sky. Each pane is simple; words and small images on blues and greens. Each guilds me in a reflection. Blessed are those who morn, they shall be comforted." An anchor. Comfort in stability. Christ shall be my anchor, wherever the sea tosses me.

I walk to the railing of the balcony and look down at the pews on the ground floor. They are empty and serene. Everything is quiet in the morning. I am kneeling close to the words "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst" in the quietest room or the quietest building on campus in the morning stillness. Even the little red light by the tabernacle is still.

All night, as I slept, He waited here for me to discover His little house. He is the only person I know in this place. But I cannot feel lonely with Him here, so close. I remember hearing a Poor Claire sister tell of her first night in the convent. She was giddy with excitement. "Jesus lives in my house. He is just down stairs and I am sleeping a few rooms away."