Amma eagle flies and flies. Her young on her soft feathers; she goes high and low, very high and then softly lowering as in a dance: in circles, and back …She plays and dances amusing the little ones.
She knows the time is ripe, and that today is the day, and closing her eyes in trust lowers rapidly leaving the little ones, up in the air, for one eternal second, two, three…finally they open their baby wings and begin flapping, again, and again; mom is under, they now feel secure not looking down anymore in her search, simply beginning to enjoy what it’ll be their life: the ability to fly.
I was young, only sixteen, and the ability to preach was awakened in me, in the mama eagle’s way: the same way I learned to swim being thrown very young into the sea, under the vigilant eyes and hearts of three women. I had experienced the method and when invited to talk about the experience of Love that still today keeps my heart warm, I felt up in the air, but there she was: amma God flying under, still today.
And in that flight I learned and enjoyed the beauty and the pain of cultures and races, and different languages. The flight was high, very high…I was young and steadily flying.
Almost suddenly I clashed against a storm: it was dark, I was alone, shaken by the winds… and couldn’t catch sight of her. She had always been under, now she might be, and continued flapping my now stronger but vulnerable wings. Too dark, too stormy, too high, God!
A year ago, reading GSR, an article caught my eye’s heart: Consecrated not religious by M.Gonsalves, SFCC. In reading it, I began to feel under my heart the close softness of sister’s eagle’s soft feathers. I was impelled by the Ruah to find out about the order of the author: SFCC
Thank you sisters for GSR, you’ve been like Mama eagle, flying under for a long time, and thanks to your creativity today I’m passed the storm into the light of a new sisterhood that like somebody said: we’ve been in circles searching for each other.
Now, in my sky there is a rainbow and flying is fun and creative, and risky again. I’m slowly recovering my being, three months away from flying full blast with them.
Magda Bennásar Oliver