Dec 20

Today we read of the Annunciation to Mary and one of my daily meditation books has an interesting poem by Fr Killian McDonnell called "In the kitchen"
('In the sixth month the angel
Gabriel ...' Luke 1:26)

Bellini has it wrong.
I was not kneeling
on my satin cushion,
in a beam of light,
head slightly bent.

Painters always
skew the scene,
as though my life
were wrapped in silks,
in temple smells.

Actually, I had just
come back from the well.
Placing the pitcher on the table
I bumped against the edge,
spilling water on the floor.

As I bent to wipe
it up, there was a light
against the kitchen wall
as though someone had opened
the door to the sun.

Rag in hand,
hair across my face,
I turned to see
who was entering,
unannounced, unasked.

All I saw
was light, white
against the timbers.
I heard a voice
I had never heard.

I heard a greeting,
I was elected,
the Lord was with me,
I pushed back my hair,
stood afraid.

Someone closed the door.
And I dropped the rag.

Have you ever realized God calling you in the midst of the mundane and the ordinary?

To chorus rehearsal as last night and Stephen Cleobury was his usual friendly careful self. The Vivaldi and Elgar are both going well. Liz unable to come as Grandma's small op yesterday was a success and she is likely to come home tomorrow.