The sky seems to roll up rapidly behind the mountains of water, dragging the stars with it. The sea, nearly black in the storm, constantly gapes wide, disclosing bottomless depths; the waves sweep over the deck as the ship rolls and pitches…all this is no laughing matter unless one sees God in the storm.
Letter 93 L. 8 to Mother Barat
Today, dear Philippine,
They are numerous, the Rebeccas of fortune who face the restless waves of migration.
Tsunamis of human rights flouted, of wrecked democracies or darkened futures, our seas carry so many lost souls in search of a new horizon. A morning that would allow the breeze of freedom and the sun of dignity to rise.
Philippine, walk beside these people in search of a hospitable land.
Give them those precious conditions of feeling useful, of being able to give of themselves, of being present for and with others.
Like you, to take part in our common family life and make of one's life a loving offering.
Philippine, teach us to marvel at our brothers and sisters on the move.
In your humility and simplicity, you would feel so close to them.
Focus our eyes so that we may understand what they have to teach us, these masters of courage, these goldsmiths of hope, these fervent believers.
Philippine, invite us to put our hearts in exodus!
May we be able to leave all our inner prisons: the dead ends of our fears, the prisons of our egos, our anguish at what we lack, our places without words of tenderness.
Like you, to strip ourselves of the unnecessary and surrender ourselves resolutely.
Philippine, you knew how to drop the grain of wheat into the ground and your life was no longer just you, but a multitude of faces that illuminated your heart.
Teach us to kneel in silence before the One who taught you to love.
So that, together, we may be viscerally overtaken by this one desire:
"Father, may they all be one" John 17:21
Rachel Guillien rscj