Morning at Casa Chiara
begins practically, in darkness, when MoMo, the hermitage Pomerhuahua tells us
he needs to pee. Then we move to the morning room for first coffee, while Mo
curls by the fireplace.
When the cups are
nearly empty (and how does Mo know?), he heads down the hallway to our chapel,
the west half of Christin’s office, and barks once, his sound for Oremus, Let us Pray. While Christin
lights candles and incense, I organize the ribbons in the Benedictine
breviaries we use to pray the canonical hours. We begin by renewing our
marriage vows, then chant the Office of Readings and Lauds, even more special
than usual this first Sunday of Advent. “Blow the trumpet in Zion, for the day
of the Lord is near.” Between the two hours, we celebrate a communion service
and share a time of contemplation.
We have enjoyed a
steady, cleansing rain for the last several days, but as Lauds ends, the sun leaps
into the sky and the raindrops clinging to our scrub oaks glisten like millions
of tiny white Christmas lights. Morning has broken!
John
How beautiful! This is the day of the Holy One, leaping upon the mountains, climbing all the trees, hauling up the sun which bears a reflection of the Divine Countenance! We rejoice and are glad in it all . . .
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