One Day

I wait with excited anticipation.

Finally, I will be with her. The woman who has inspired me with her words, and her actions, who has written down and said aloud what lives in my heart and what has remained unsaid for so long. I wanted to see her, in the flesh, to attempt to know her, to find out how the last two years have affected her and her life.

As I sit now and wait for her, this small place throbs with the voices of those who have, like me, turned out to see what this woman is like, what she has that is different, what makes her do what she does and, I suppose, to see what she can offer us.

It is a simple place, where I sit, but there is something in the atmosphere that draws the attention. Its simplicity stills the mind. Even, as I witness the buzz of voices, which echo around its walls, the calm envelops me like a pair of strong arms.

The silence hums as she finally stands before us – the applause breaking the spell as we celebrate her.

She stands in stillness, her head bent – in prayer? Then she looks at us, at me… I am overwhelmed by her soft eyes, searching mine. Her voice, which reaches into the very corners of my heart, places that I never knew existed, is soft and melodious, almost singing to me. She nods and smiles, embracing us all with her countenance.

The words which follow are not hollow, shallow words, but full of meaning, echoing her faith and love of man and God.

There are questions filling this small place, one after the other, and she is inundated with reason and logic, with uncertainty and non belief. We listen intently, surrounded by her love and she responds wholly to us, to our inconsistencies and our doubts. The atmosphere in this small place becomes almost sacrosanct, inviolable – I think the Holy Spirit is here conjured by our hope and by our fears.

Then all too soon the night is ended and I am exhausted. She has left me drained of energy. I have witnessed this night a woman – who denies her ‘celebrity’ and remains solid and focussed in her own spirituality.

I leave that tiny place reluctantly, thinking that if I stayed I could perhaps, feel her again, know her in my heart, that maybe I could become her, for a brief moment.

I am outside now, across the road, ambling along the pavement. I notice a coffee shop still open, and decide to linger there. I turn, bumping into a woman, we lock eyes, and I am stunned.

“Coffee?” she says.

I nod.

We buy coffee and settle into a small corner where I am unable to believe what is happening. She looks at my mouth and smiles into my eyes. “Ask me,” she says.

I stumble, my mind drafting the question quickly. But it is a question I have wanted to ask her for so long.

“Are you guided by God to say the things you say?”

“Yes,” she says without a thought.

“Are we then, as a Christian society, wrong?”

She shakes her head. “We are lost that is all. All we need to do is look within. God lives in the tiny recesses and the dark corners of our being. We have lost our way but we can find it again.”

I look at her. Soft curls hug her neck and fall over her eyes. I reach out and brush them away. She smiles. “I have a train to catch,” she says.

I nod.

We stand outside, the cool September sky heaves with stars, and we look up into it together.

“Magic,” she says grinning at me.

“I love you,” I say and her grin broadens. She kisses me softly on the mouth and then puts on her famous hat, struggling with bags that pull heavily upon her shoulders.

“I love you too,” she says softly as she turns from me.

Watching silently as she walks away, I am overwhelmed by an intense loneliness – a loneliness that comes with truth and the beating heart that loves all and lives beyond the human.

Maybe her love will quietly but steadfastly inform the human within us all.

One day.

 

Copyright © Michael Jones