Her name was Beatrice.

She looked to be about ten years old.

Never have I ever personally met another person named Beatrice…The name seems solely reserved for characters from 19th century classic novels I read! But here was a Beatrice standing in front of me.

Again, I experienced complete clarity that this was, without a doubt, the name of the saint the Holy Spirit wished for me to sketch. (I stress this word clarity, because “indecisive” should have been my middle name from birth….)

Here I was, concerned that I would miss the Holy Spirit’s promptings due to the season of life I was in.

And here was God, yet again, meeting me exactly where I was…

At a grocery store parking lot.

I don’t know how to explain it, but as I looked, I knew I was looking at Mary with the infant Christ.

Regardless of how they got on that street corner, they were homeless in some way and humbling themselves.

And I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to go back.

But I had my own children to get back to. I had supper to make. My husband had been digging a giant trench all day to deal with septic tank issues and I knew he’d be exhausted.

So I attempted to ignore the feeling to turn back and kept driving for 15 minutes.

But the further I drove, the more unbearable the urge to turn back became. It got to the point that it was literally painful to keep driving any further.

The narrative that one religious sister told me about God “speaking in whispers” was flipped.

God does often speaks in whispers…but here He was speaking in a lightning bolt.

When, in our humanity, we are like three-year-old’s, so caught up in our own suffering that we can’t see straight let alone pray straight, what does Mary do?

She tenderly picks us up and carries us straight to Our Lord. And in doing so, He is “magnified” in our own hearts.

Cranky toddlers may eventually calm down without a parent’s tenderness, but how much quicker they find peace when a mother is nearby with two arms ready to embrace!

So it is with Mary. Like a good mother, she wipes away our tears so our blurry eyes can better see Christ.

Her time of waiting to enter Carmel was not wasted. Saint Elizabeth realized that just as we must seek to tend to sacred spaces like churches and chapels, we must also tend to the sacred spaces within our hearts.

We must not forget that the Holy Spirit dwells within us. Let us make a safe place for Our Lord to dwell. Remember that no matter where you are, no matter what you are doing, no matter how ugly the situation you are in, you have a cloistered place of prayer within your own heart.

Your Beloved waits for you….you need not go far.

Your sacrifice can be a song, though no one may hear it.

Your sacrifice can be a work of art, though no one may see it.

Your sacrifice can be a means of salvation, though no one may understand it.

No...your talents are not collecting dust.

They are not being hidden under a bushel basket.

You have given them back to the Lord to be polished like fine pearls. And now they reflect a Light much brighter than before.