The Song of Assisi
It's been 3 days since I got back and I have one more week to gather and complete what this pilgrimage has begun.
The journey to fully entrusting my life and everything in it to the love of an ever relentless Soul Lover-God.
I've been sitting on my desk almost day in and out until the wee hours of jet-lagged mornings sifting through photograph after photograph. Trembling at the beauty of memories and how faith spilt stories through time to make sure there remains testimonies from the remnants of the lives of those who witnessed God.
And He is Real. They say.
They speak of His beauty and the calm of His peace on the walls of Assisi glowing in soft pink. Walls that traced the lives of Saints Francis & Claire as they walked in surrender of their wealth and belongings in return for a life complete in Him.
They spoke of His everlasting embrace in the wide expanse of breath-taking view from the Basilica of Francis that sits at the top of the hill I traversed through a slow climb. His serenity invades the tomb of this man who was a fool to undress himself of his family's wealth because he was provoked with a passion to seek true happiness empty of this world but abundant of heaven.
He was the graceful strength of Claire in the quiet and tranquil silence of her basilica. One graceful walk down the hill to her resting place where her body lies undisturbed by the decays of this world.
Her faithfulness to her kindred spirit Francis becomes a testament of a kind of love authored by God to show those who believe the kind of blessings that come from relationships founded in Him.
And yes, He spoke even in the quiet of corners and hidden alley-ways that tourists and even fellow pilgrims did not take note of.
Like the garden tucked away by the side of the road oblivious to passersby.
Or the foliage-fringed doorways and front porch steps inviting a conversation or two.
Or the friendly little pigeon who chirps the tiredness away from pilgrim's feet.
I cannot compare myself to these great saints that walked this earth but I suppose I can continue walking with pilgrim's feet and see heaven in little pigeons and flower pots along the way.
Despite that, the grace found in Assisi has started to open my eyes to the reality of how the Creator works in the lives of those yielded to His everlasting arms. And though in their own lifetime they were alienated for the drastic change of life and the distance they kept their hearts away from the snares of the world, they possessed a peace that surpasses all understanding.
It is this peace I continue to pursue and with each word I weave and each photograph and ponder on, I hope to finally come to realisation after realisation that I am nearing a place I am meant to be, a life beautifully nurtured within the hands of a Potter sending pigeons to hop along with my tired pilgrim feet.
The journey to fully entrusting my life and everything in it to the love of an ever relentless Soul Lover-God.
I've been sitting on my desk almost day in and out until the wee hours of jet-lagged mornings sifting through photograph after photograph. Trembling at the beauty of memories and how faith spilt stories through time to make sure there remains testimonies from the remnants of the lives of those who witnessed God.
And He is Real. They say.
They speak of His beauty and the calm of His peace on the walls of Assisi glowing in soft pink. Walls that traced the lives of Saints Francis & Claire as they walked in surrender of their wealth and belongings in return for a life complete in Him.
They spoke of His everlasting embrace in the wide expanse of breath-taking view from the Basilica of Francis that sits at the top of the hill I traversed through a slow climb. His serenity invades the tomb of this man who was a fool to undress himself of his family's wealth because he was provoked with a passion to seek true happiness empty of this world but abundant of heaven.
He was the graceful strength of Claire in the quiet and tranquil silence of her basilica. One graceful walk down the hill to her resting place where her body lies undisturbed by the decays of this world.
Her faithfulness to her kindred spirit Francis becomes a testament of a kind of love authored by God to show those who believe the kind of blessings that come from relationships founded in Him.
And yes, He spoke even in the quiet of corners and hidden alley-ways that tourists and even fellow pilgrims did not take note of.
Like the garden tucked away by the side of the road oblivious to passersby.
Or the foliage-fringed doorways and front porch steps inviting a conversation or two.
Or the friendly little pigeon who chirps the tiredness away from pilgrim's feet.
I cannot compare myself to these great saints that walked this earth but I suppose I can continue walking with pilgrim's feet and see heaven in little pigeons and flower pots along the way.
Despite that, the grace found in Assisi has started to open my eyes to the reality of how the Creator works in the lives of those yielded to His everlasting arms. And though in their own lifetime they were alienated for the drastic change of life and the distance they kept their hearts away from the snares of the world, they possessed a peace that surpasses all understanding.
It is this peace I continue to pursue and with each word I weave and each photograph and ponder on, I hope to finally come to realisation after realisation that I am nearing a place I am meant to be, a life beautifully nurtured within the hands of a Potter sending pigeons to hop along with my tired pilgrim feet.
Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name, you are mine. Should you pass through the waters, I shall be with you; or through rivers, they will not swallow you up. Should you walk through fire, you will not suffer, and the flame will not burn you. For I am Yahweh, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. - Isaiah 43:1-3
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