Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Joshua had always been a spiritual person. He read the Bible like most men pored over Playboy magazines, and a calm demeanor helped him through life, marking him as a strong, patient, confident man who rose to the top of his architectural firm with speed and kudos from colleagues and clients. His forte was churches and cathedrals, magnificent buildings dotting landscapes across the world. Some people said he was inspired from above; voices rang out in song, echoing from choir lofts as never before heard and sermons not only reached but penetrated the ears of parishioners. Priests, Reverends, Ministers, all longed to be a part of a Joshua Herald church.

Joshua always knew that he had a purpose for his buildings. He had known God all his life and felt a deep sense of spirituality, one he wanted to share with others. The gift of architecture came to him early in life and that gift transformed the churches he designed into Houses of God that left those who entered feeling peace, love and a renewed sense of purpose. The Pope had even declared him the greatest architect of churches since Christopher Wren.

Joshua had grown up in a monastery nestled in the foothills of Napa Valley. Father Michael told him he had been brought to the Friars of Napa Glenn when he was an infant; born to a young woman at a convent just north of Sacramento. The nuns could not keep the male child and knew he would be well cared for by the Friars. Father Michael took a liking to the serene baby and vowed to raise him knowing the teachings of the church. The Friars named the baby Joshua since he had come to them from the Nuns. He took to the word of God with a passion and often led the Friars in prayer. As Joshua excelled in his studies the Friars knew they could not expect Joshua to stay with them. His talents were many, and he soon went off to college, where he sailed through classes, was graduated with the highest honors a student can gain and received the prestigious Architecture Alliance Excellence Award, usually bestowed upon an architect with many years of field experience.

Though Joshua's life had changed with his fame, he often went home to the monastery, spending days, sometimes weeks working on new drawings, reaching out to the Friars for inspiration and renewing his relationship with God. His time spent at home soon became his refuge in the sometimes ugly world. Traveling throughout America and Europe he saw much the Friars had not been able to teach him, but prayer led him through each day.

As Father Michael grew older, he often sat with Joshua, talking about Joshua's past, answering what few questions he could, and shared experiences from his life before he became a Friar. Joshua loved these times and knew that someday soon; they would come to an end. When Father Michael passed away, Joshua was given the few possessions left in Father Michael's room; an ancient Bible, several crosses and an old box filled with cards and letters from friends and family.

One group of letters, bound by a rubber band that broke as soon as Joshua touched it, was penned by a young woman, Sister Mary Elizabeth. The letters were dated after Father Michael had entered the monastery, and were true love letters. Nothing sexual, but love between two dear friends, and their shared devoutness and deep love of God. Joshua became enthralled with the letters and their author; gaining new insight into the life of the man he called Father, in so many ways. He learned that from an early age, Father Michael had the same sense of piety he, Joshua, had known all his life, something that seemed to calm his grief, ease his mourning.

Joshua found the letters that spanned Father Michael's lifetime to be of comfort, knowing he had been able to share his devotion, his love of the Lord with this special person. According to the return address on a letter dated just a few months before Father Michael died, Sister Mary Elizabeth was living in a Nunnery just north of Sacramento, the same Nunnery where he had been born.

He wondered if the Sister had known his mother. He imagined the Sister and Father Michael were about the same age, they shared a lot, using the same language, same idioms, but there was never a mention of any baby being born at the Nunnery. This piqued his interest and he soon set out to find Sister Mary Elizabeth, and to share the news of the death of Father Michael, someone they had both loved.

The drive to the Nunnery was beautiful, winding roads flanked by Scotch broom glowing in brilliant yellow, almost blinding as the sun light blazed its path along the route. As Joshua passed through the American River canyon, he was reminded anew of God's great works, as he saw layers of earth and rock, light upon dark upon red, covered with magnificent trees. What a difference from the grape covered fields of Napa Glenn. Joshua neared the small town just outside the Nunnery and felt an excitement he had not anticipated. The Nunnery came into view and his heart beat wildly, hoping Sister Mary Elizabeth was still in residence and he prayed for guidance in what exactly he would say to the Sister.

The Nunnery was settled atop a small mountain ribboned by a narrow road, twisting, winding its way down, then up to a graveled parking area in front of an arched stone gateway. Joshua climbed out of his car, entered the path under the angel topped arch and was entranced by the beautiful colors in the most spectacular garden he had ever had the pleasure of viewing. Roses, wild flowers and many plants he had never seen before encompassed bee hives that emitted a sweet droning sound that was comforting. He gazed around the garden and heard the large wooden doors behind him open as he turned to see the head of the Nunnery Mother Josephine stepping toward him. She smiled a welcome and listened as Joshua related his story, ending with his search for Sister Mary Elizabeth.

Mother Josephine's heart swelled with pride as she heard the story of this young man. She knew in her heart that Joshua was a man pledged to God and his teachings, with the grace and ability to pass his knowledge and passions along to others. She told him that Sister Mary Elizabeth was alive, still living at the Nunnery. While Joshua had wanted to believe that the Sister was still there, he had dared not hope for such a conclusion to his quest. He sat on a beautifully carved marble bench waiting for Mother Josephine to send the Sister outside, he took a moment to pray again for the words he needed for this much anticipated meeting knowing his faith would be there if his words failed.

Joshua heard footsteps coming from the far side of the garden, as they neared he stood ready to face this woman that he had read about and learned to love, yes, he realized that he loved her. How could he not, after knowing Father Michael and his eternal love for Sister Mary Elizabeth. He wondered briefly if the Sister also held dear the letters from Father Michael but chided himself; of course she did, her letters said as much, maybe not in those words, but in her faith and long lasting correspondence.

She was beautiful; her aura shone bright encompassing Joshua and filling him with joy. No wonder Father Michael had loved her. He waited as she looked at him, looked into his eyes then smiled as she held her hands out for an embrace. It felt so right, his heart swelled with love, his soul rejoiced and he thanked the Lord for her creation.

Neither one could speak; they sat on the bench and prayed, lifting their hearts to God's splendor. Turning to each other, she again looked in Joshua's eyes, knowing exactly who he was. Joshua explained his visit, his life with the Friars, his career, and finally broke the news of Father Michael's death. He told the Sister that he had come to find records from his mother's time at the Nunnery, was hoping Father Michaels long time friend might be able to help. Father Michael had told him he was born there, but knew nothing of his mother.

Sister Mary Elizabeth had been quiet throughout his deeply emotional story. She wept and laughed and understood the magnificent life that Joshua had led so far, and the important part Father Michael had in bringing Joshua to God, and to her side. When Joshua had come full circle, back to his visit, the Sister excused herself letting the weight of all that had been said be lifted by God, unburdening her through His grace.

Joshua too, raised his burdened heart to the Lord, the task had been difficult, but God had blessed him with the right words and the courage to speak them. Peace came upon him in this amazing place, and he welcomed the Sister back with replenished spirit. She once again sat beside Joshua and placed an old hat box in his lap. She told him to open it, and as he did Sister Mary Elizabeth wept at the love lost with the passing of Father Michael, the man who had been a righteous servant of the Lord. She wept too for the loss that Joshua felt, but was comforted in knowing that Joshua shared her love of God and would be healed.

The box held companion letters to those of Father Michael. Years of correspondence. Years of their shared love of God and love of each other through His will. Joshua looked at the Sister, asking if he could read these last vestiges of the Father's life. She of course agreed, but first needed to tell him a story.

The Sister told Joshua of a young woman Jamie Rose and her best friend Christopher. Friends from grade school on, they were both in awe of God, his works and all that He encompassed. It was inevitable that Christopher and Jamie Rose dated, never having a thought for others, just the two of them and the Lord. But as human nature took hold of the couple they spent one extraordinary night making love under the stars and woke together at dawn. The young adults realized that they had sinned, but also knew that God would forgive them as they knelt there in the cool morning air and prayed. How could love be a sin?

Jamie Rose soon realized she was pregnant and her parents, unbelieving in her faith or God sent her to a family doctor. She never made the appointment and never returned home. She wrote Christopher a letter, explaining her heartfelt desire to enter the Sisterhood. She had heard about a Nunnery in the northern part of the state, found enough money to take the bus to her new life, and redemption. She never told Christopher of the pregnancy. This too she knew was a sin.

Jamie Rose gave birth to a beautiful boy. The Sisters of the Nunnery explained he would not be able to grow up with them for no men were allowed, but they knew of a safe, wonderful place that would take the baby in. Jamie Rose ached at the thought of losing her son, but prayed God would ease her spirit in doing what was right for the boy. The Nunnery soon became cloistered and the Sisters never took in another pregnant girl.

Over the years Jamie Rose kept in touch with her childhood friend, however they never met again. They wrote long letters about their faith, how strong their devotions were and the pleasures the Lord had given them being in of service to others.

The two sat in silence, both sending prayers for guidance in this extraordinary situation. Joshua was stunned. If he figured correctly Jamie Rose and Christopher had become Sister Mary Elizabeth and Father Michael. He wept tears of uncertainty and joy as he told the Sister, that he was her son. Sister Mary Elizabeth reached out to him, cradling Joshua, her son, their son, God's son, thanking Him for this miracle.