Florence was a pilgrim. She was as brilliant, as she was aimless. She loved God but struggled to understand him. She was like so many of us. Not long ago, quite by accident, Florence found herself trying to fight upstream against a great river. Why would a good Christian partake in such a thing? The simple answer, “terrible luck”. The more complex but fascinating answer goes like this: a series of seemly disconnected events over an imperceivably amount of time and space led Florence to a particular place, at a particular time, for a particular reason. Please don’t ask me for a more detailed version of this answer. I am not up to the task of trying to trace the inner workings of the saint’s internal world, all the while trying to explain how her circumstances affected her decisions, not to mention what role her emotions played. If you need something less abstract, just call all that, providence and be done with it. Oh shoot, darn it, not again…did I forget to introduce myself? I am sorry about that, a faux pas of the worst order but not irredeemable in such good company. Lucas Bernard, at your service or maybe you are at mine. Maybe we all serve the Lord? Or does he serve us? Maybe all are true…. Get on with it. Yes, you are quite right, enough of this fooling around. So, where were we? Ah, my disclaimer, a very important part of a performance… I will ask something of you my noble listener, please pay close attention as we will have to go back, to go forward. I would have saved you the trouble if it were possible, but alas, if you want to learn anything this day, then we must go to the true beginning of Florence’s adventure. Plus, I only know one way to tell this tale, so settle in and open your heart.
To whom this may concern,
Greetings, my name is Dr. Adison Brockton. I have been practicing medicine in the small but noble town of South Fraser for the past 25 years. In that time, I have become an old man. A status that has allowed me to see much of life, maybe too much life. As a good doctor, I know my patients and they know me, which makes it even more joyful to see the birth and that much harder to see death. I have chosen to write to you because something very new and strange has crossed my experience path. Something or I should I say someone that defies my understanding of the natural laws of creation. A saint has healed the entire town. There is no sickness here. There are no malcontents. There is a blanket of peace over all those who suffer. Take your time, read those last few lines again. I barely believe it myself but read the attached notes and know that a true cynic turned believer wrote them.
Jude was a pilgrim. He walked slowly. He was often uncertain. He loved God but struggled to understand him. He was like so many of us. One day, the Lord’s path brought him to the edge of a great forest. A forest that had a reputation. A reputation that was far from ideal. Unless of course your ideal, is all things scary and evil. Jude stood there frozen only a few feet from what looked to be the mouth of a great serpent made of twisted trees. He began to talk to himself or was it to his spirit?