My first letter

Friday, January 7, 2011

Dear Chris,

I wonder what you are doing right now, where you are, how you are feeling. I wonder what the place is like. What color are the walls? Is the pillow you sleep on hard or soft? Do you have a window in your room? And the people... Are the inmates pleasant or angry or just plain exhausted? Do the guards share a kind word? Are you able to take the Eucharist?

You've been on my mind and heart. Sometimes I am still surprised at this unique and beautiful friendship of ours. I am not sure how it happened, to be honest. It was over a cup of Brazilian coffee, wasn't it? I think you invited me to talk with you about writing. So we did, and we clicked, and right when we parted ways I recognized something special had happened: God had given me a compańero. Over the subsequent months our friendship began to bloom and I see clearly now that God is not only working in us as individuals, but He is working between us. We are not walking side by side on a well worn path, but bouldering, negotiating precipices, doing the best we can together to find a direction through the wilderness. It is through this work that God works, slowly molding and revealing to us who we truly are, for ourselves and one another. I feel Him doing this through our friendship, Chris. I don't know why, I just know it is pure gift.

I had a beautiful movement of prayer during the rosary the day of your trial. Praying the Visitation, I saw young Mary walking with anticipation to see Elizabeth. She must look into Elizabeth's eyes and see it is true, that she too is pregnant. This makes a difference somehow, that she is not going to have to go through this alone. Her steps are quick and short, her breath shallow, and she is half smiling. With the house in sight, she bounds up the path until she reaches the door. She takes a deep breath and knocks softly. Zechariah welcomes her warmly and at the very sound of her voice, Elizabeth turns and rushes to her. "It is you," she says, elated. As she meets Mary, she clasps her hands and looks into her eyes with such devotion that both of them start to cry. Their joy is overflowing at the knowing of the other. I felt it so clearly in my heart right then: God had given them to each other. To create the experience, to share understanding and support, to hold one another in prayer. I got the meaning of it. They were each a gift, given from the depth of God's heart.

In this way, Chris, God gave you to me. My compańero. And he gave you to me from the depth of His heart. God is so good.

So, I continue to pray for you though we cannot speak. And you'll also be pleased to know that 64 of your friends and family have joined your community of prayer. I have listed them for you. I will be creating our blog this weekend and posting this letter along with your writings from before you went in. Please write me, and when you do, please include your prayer requests and what you may need.

Stay close to God, Chris. All that He is, is with you and in you, at every moment and always.

In His Spirit,
anne