One week on Iona. Alone, in my tent.
A few days and nights with nothing to face except Christ’s love for His creation: you and I.
A few days suspended from the empty rush of this life. Some time out of time; some time hidden in Christ, buried in Him, melted in Him. A few days away from all plans and anxieties; nothing to hope for, nothing to regret, because the future and the past simply have no reality. A week that could feel like a moment – all of me here, all of me now, all of me in front of Christ, with everything that I am, good and bad. Mostly bad, but that is all in the past. Right now, right here, I belong to Christ, and I shall pick myself up and I shall start my life in Him again.
These are random notes. The weather forecast says I’ve got 80% chance of rain. That isn’t too bad, is it? It still allows for 20% chances of sunshine. I remain optimistic.
Have you ever felt as if the air opens up in front of you and embraces you? I do now.
I have done nothing for the Saints of these Isles, yet they call me with such strength; they love with such passion. I pray for a few days alone with them. I pray for them to come and reveal themselves in my small heart, in my small tent. Night after night, I pray they will come and teach me how to love Christ the way they love Him. I need nothing else.
Please pray that I have the heart to welcome them. I am here for all of us who love the Celtic Saints and treasure the heritage they left us. Where ever you are this week, whatever you are caught with in your work, when it all gets too much, take a moment and remember that the love you have poured for this monastery is still alive in me. And I am here: in a small tent, on Iona, in the land of the Saints. And if I’m here, that part of you which lives in me, that love which you have poured in me is also here: in the same small tent, on Iona, in the land of the Saints.