Our Sarah has exchanged her white aspirant veil for the black veil and brown vest of a full fledged Poor Clare postulant. Here she is smiling beside the statue of Our Lady of Fatima that is just outside our monastic choir.
Before Sarah could join our community, she needed to pay off her college debt. During the time of her fund raising efforts with the Laboure Society she experienced some moments of frustration and discouragement. A friend shared with her that he had been meditating on John 6:18ff, in which the disciples are sailing to Capernaum when a great wind comes up. The water begins to get rough, but then Jesus comes to them on the sea and tells them not to be afraid. He comes into the boat, and suddenly the apostles find that they have arrived at Capernaum much sooner than they anticipated. Her friend said that he was struck by the fact that it was the wind and the turbulence that brought the apostles’ ship to its destination much sooner than it would have otherwise arrived. He told her that God is Lord of the wind, and of the trials that churn up the waves of life beneath us. God works all things for our good, and through them draws us swiftly to Himself. It was this thought that inspired Sarah to write the following poem:
The Wind Rider
“And immediately the boat was at the land
to which they were going.” (Jn 6:16-21)
Gusty, churning horses, tossing
Salty manes, run in and out
Then leaping out to sea, and bearing
A wind-rider on their frothy backs.
Wind-rider youth, do you think, do you dare,
To seize the churning manes?
Wrench a stallion’s reins?
Bucking, screaming, furious herd of fire
Bearing ever onward towards desire
Flashing hooves and mighty blow
Smash wind-rider youth
Crash the pallid youth
The child bleeds.
Is there no breeze?
Mount again, wind-rider.
Water, flesh and fire
Answer to one Father
Source of all desire.
Horses gallop fastest
In the final stretch
You can make it, rider,
You can ride them yet.
You can bear the screaming
Clasp the neck of foam
Suck the wind, wind-rider,
As your stallions gallop home.
Sarah, our wind-rider youth is making it.
You can too.