A few months ago I was listening to an interview on public radio. It was a conversation with an older English actor, one that had been knighted for his long body of work. The interviewer got around to asking him why he chose to still live in the small town where he was reared, rather than in a large city almost anywhere in the world–which certainly was within his reach.
He only paused a moment before he began to tell this story: “I just came home recently, after being in a play that ran for quite some time. I took the train from London to almost the end of the line. When I got off the train, I gathered up my bags and made my way to the cabbies stand. When it was my turn, the cabbie picked up my bags and I got into the back seat. Without hesitation as he got behind the wheel he said cheerfully: ‘Hello Love, where to?’ You see, it was there, in that moment, I felt, I knew, I was home. Not because of any recognition or fanfare, but just because an ordinary working man could turn and say to another ordinary person, ‘Hello, Love’ … and I don’t know any place else in the world that that is so .. or anyplace else in the world that I would feel so very welcome and at home.”
I immediately loved that story. It made me smile. And I found that it didn’t leave me easily, even though it took only a minute or two to listen to. That night when I woke up in the middle of the night (which is my new normal) and I began to pray, ‘Hello Love’, were the first words on my tongue. It made me smile as I thought about how fitting it is to say “hello Love” to Love Itself. And for the next few weeks, when beginning to pray it was my almost involuntary salutation. As the weeks went on, it began to feel so authentic to start my prayer that way. All of the traditional ways: Holy God, Loving Father, Great Creator… had fallen to the side. After so many years, I was surprised how easily they fell.
Then one night when my first few hours of sleep were once more greeted with being awake, I turned to look at my phone to see what time it was. After being satisfied that it was indeed the middle of the night and not morning, I turned to begin my prayer… but before I could get my mind fully awake, I heard “Hello Love.” My eyes were closed and I was smiling in the dark in the dead of night. And I heard it again… “Hello, Love.”
It only took a moment on that night to accept that those words that I heard were not for me to use in my prayer … but rather were words that I was being invited to hear. I was not to be the initiator of this lovely phrase, but its recipient. These were words of comfort and tender calling from Creator to creature. From Love to beloved. And I was still smiling as I settled in to the love I felt.
Another month or so has now gone by and when I wake in those morning watches, “Hello, Love” is still the first thing I hear and I respond in like manner. And as it was from the very first time, I get the same physical response–smiling from ear to ear. I can only hope it will continue to be with me for a long while.
I’m wondering where is it that you feel loved and at home? Where or how do you recognize God’s voice speaking to you? Has there been a time when you thought you were the initiator of prayer but found that you were bidden instead, responding to a greater call?
I am grateful for the many ways God invites me–even when at first I don’t know I am being addressed. And I hope for you to recognize these special moments on your journey.
Sending you love,
Kathleen…. thecelticmonk.
The Celtic Monk Musings 