Yesterday, variously known as the Last Sunday in Epiphany, Transfiguration Sunday, Valentine’s Day (or Single Awareness Day as one wag would have it), we sisters were privileged to have four couples at our table for brunch following Eucharist. Two are married, one engaged, and the youngest couple have been keeping each other’s company for a few months now. One sister, in a truly inspired moment, asked each couple to tell the story of their first meeting. Oh, how we were charmed, delighted, and moved by four stories of blooming love–perfect Valentine’s Day fare.
As the stories unfolded I found myself hearing the “through line”, the similarity, in each one–there was an instant, when one or both, knew this was it and then could not and would not let go of the notion, not for the life of them. That one shining moment when we see and hear clearly the vision and voice of love. It is like recognition–this feels like home the heart says.
Not unlike sisters’ own response to that instant when the religious life presents itself clear and bright as a bell. Stepping across the threshold of the convent for the first time and knowing I was home felt like love to me.
It is a good thing, says the Psalmist, to proclaim your love in the morning. How serendipitous to celebrate Valentine’s Day on Sunday–a love fest through and through.
That is so cute and pretty cool. Doesn’t matter the vocation, when the moment comes of this is it, it is amazing!