I had a very interesting experience recently at the Goodwill, where I work. I put a lot of effort out to live the richness of the CL proposal there, to be open, knowing Christ is with me in every detail of my moving about through the day.

Last week, Elisa (a Fraternity member from Folsom, who I've only met once in the year I've been in California) came in to the store. I hesitated to reach out to her, but then our greeting was warm and we talked for only a few minutes. When she left, it broke something open in me. The effect was magical, in the way it really transformed the workplace for me. The truly human contact with her gave energy and possibility to fulfilling the same need for human contact with my fellow employees. I say magical because I have been trying to live that contact with my co-workers (with limited success) all along, but it was as if Elisa's face and our greeting (like Mary and Elizabeth's) which gave birth to an ease for it to happen at work; for the spiritual hardness to dissolved. It was as if Christ had to be introduced through a communal way, not just by me alone.

I've been praying for a few years to understand and take seriously what community means. I treasure and use as a guide the quotation from Hildegard von Bingen: "At the still point of the the crossroads of every decision we chose either alienation or communion." I'm glad I made the effort; to "put myself out there" to say hello to Elisa.

Thank you Jesus. I pray I don't forget what you've done here, but with confidence and humility continue to build on it.


(Teresa's second letter)
He didn't let me forget! Just after sending you the last email, I found myself sharing my precious cubicle with the cleverly disguised face of Jesus in the form of my new co-worker: "M." She said she suffers from post traumatic brain disorder, and she talks excessively.

I got the irony. "Okay fine Jesus! You have busted open the door for human contact at work...but like this?" I didn't display too many zen qualities with M. I was able to share with her that I strive to live my humanity everywhere, not forgoing it at work because it's too difficult or because the bosses won't give me my due respect. But I also got plenty exasperated with her throughout the day. I crossed the line into the obliteration of mercy due to my self-absorption, which the Pope talks about, via Carrón in the Friday Evening at the Fraternity Exercises.



The next day I was trying to understand the whole thing. Why hadn't I responded with more mercy to her, to that broken face that God had hidden behind? Because I'm a sinner! But here is where Mercy stepped in and I began to recognize how He had come to visit me, how by hiding behind the face of another, He calls me to Himself.

I remembered that Old Testament passage about Jacob wrestling with a Man, the angel, the face of God. (Genesis 32:24-30). In my own way, I wrestled all day long in that cubicle with Him in the form of M. The human contact that seemed so terrible was just what I needed in order to come to know Him and my fellow man more intimately. Her need for an answer to her daily struggle is no different than mine, as much as I wanted to run from her; to not identify with her. But there we were, in that little work place, yearning for God together.


I met the Lord that day, and it was not how I would have expected or chosen, but for which Giusanni helped me to see, was positive.