It  so happened…in this fantastic dream where an elderly man invited me to a royal banquet.  Everything was spectacular, yet I told him I was so happy living a good life with my John, that I asked him if he could delay the banquet for me.  Giving me a nod and a smile, I returned to my life and woke up…with glee.

your scribe for love


Do you ever pay attention to your dreams and the patterns they seem to reflect?

“When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him.” Matthew 1:24. God chose Joseph, the carpenter, to build up the Kingdom, asking  him to take Mary for his wife, who was with child, to nurture and protect them through the sacred trials of their lives together.  Joseph did not hesitate in fulfilling God’s calling with an open, obedient and trusting manner.   As you follow this story, can you capture one of your most compelling dreams and perhaps relate it to mine?

Today, I awoke from a magnificent dream in which I was writing on an infinite scroll as long as the Amazon River, as if searching for my ancestors, when suddenly my dear grandmother appeared to me in radiant beauty and peace.  I let her know how much I miss them all.  She acknowledged my sentiments by saying, “when you finish writing all of your stories, then will I be waiting for you and we will all be together.”

I leapt out of bed like a swift gazelle, my feet barely touching the plush carpet, holy tears rolling down my cheeks for this divine dream which propelled me to start the day in awe and wonder on this special Saint Joseph’s feast day.  God used Joseph to protect the Holy Family to bring forth the Messiah to the world.  This new dream of mine gives me greater confidence in opening more my heart to writing yet untold stories.

In pondering your dreams, do you see where God is asking you to be flexible, obedient and everything that may be useful to God’s plan for your life?  If your dreams come true, how would you react?

Eleanor Roosevelt said this:

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

What dreams have stirred your heart to write about?….your Scribe for Love


We shout for justice without knowing where to go for healing.

Daily news bombards us with constant wrongdoing.

We are all born with a meaningful purpose.

We all have the same red blood flowing through our veins.

What can we do individually to restore peace and prosperity to our world?

Can we forego resentment and be more patient?

Can we muster courage and extend the hand of reconciliation?

How can we round out the sharp angles among  us?

your scribe for love



As the train slowly inched away from the platform, my life would first take a turn for the worst before it would take a turn for the best.

With my 18-month old son in the stroller, I proceeded to step up the staircase of the no. 8 railway car with boarding tickets in hand, leaving Frankfurt’s dingy station and damp weather to arrive in warmer Avignon, France, 12 hours later.  I now wonder, how did I manage that long trip with Christopher scoping the leather banquette from side to side?  After all, he was a healthy and happy rambunctious toddler.   This was a weekend excursion with a hefty mission…to say goodbye to my dearest grandmother, because we were returning to America.

Relatives came to pick us up at the station and soon my eyes gazed at the familiar evergreen rod iron gate, where Mame Jane stood holding on to the tall bars.  I noticed she had diminished in stature, wearing a black and white geometric dress, her lavender apron around her plumb waist, black stockings with perfectly straight seams, the gate flew open, we embraced as she grabbed Christopher into her small frame.  Later, we gathered around a sumptuous supper she had lovingly prepared.  Christopher had fallen quickly asleep on her red velvet sofa.

Then came that dreadful moment to part, to say goodbye was so heart-wrenching.  Everyone cried while speaking hope that this moment was just “so long.”  As my grandmother closed the gate behind us, Christopher grabbed the bars to touch her fingertips, she instantly pulled out of her pocket her precious dark purple stone rosary, the one she always prayed with since I could remember as a child and placed it into my hand.  Her deep brown eyes betrayed her agony as she told me never to forget praying her rosary for her and Christopher….I still do.

Moving fast forward like today’s aerodynamic trains, I caress my grandmother’s rosary daily with grateful affection, the one she bought in Lourdes.  Mary has protected my son and I through the years from our worst trials…a devastating divorce and being separated for 10 years.  I cherish my grandmother’s love life of prayer, which inches me forward with her rosary in hand.

By the grace of God, my life train is on track…choo-choo-…all aboard!

your scribe for love


The Tabernacle

Whenever I would visit my dear Maman Denyse in Miami, I would go for an hour’s walk while her caregiver would prepare her for the day, and I would stop in at St. John Neumann’s chapel for a quick prayer.  The cool air-conditioning would instantly dry off my sweaty body and I would ask Jesus to forgive my exerted countenance although it overjoyed me to rendezvous with Him before the Tabernacle.

I love this airy chapel which became my prayer nook away from home.  On that particular day as I knelt close to the Tabernacle, I noticed how old and tattered the wood  was splintering around its edges.  With sadness, I vocalized “O my Lord, You surely deserve a more adoring repository!  You always wait for me to visit here,” then I scurried home.  The next day I repeated my usual routine…I was stunned with a jubilant surprise as I entered the chapel and noticed the old Tabernacle had been removed and in its place stood a magnificent gold edifice.  I dropped to my knees in exultation praying “Jesus, you fulfilled my desire to see you enthroned in a more suitable sanctuary”–that really blew my mind!  My heart palpitated with gratitude that now God had a more deserving home as I rushed to share this wondrous experience with mother.

As always, Denyse was waiting for me, ever pretty and happy, ready for our day together as we shared a delicious French pressed Bustelo coffee and lots more.  I described how exquisite the new Tabernacle appeared in the domed stain-glass chapel.  The doors depict Jesus as the Lamb of God–our Shepherd–who takes away the sins of the world.  Six months later, mother’s funeral Mass was celebrated there, and I’d like to believe she saw that splendid Tabernacle in her beloved church as she ascended into Heaven.

This gilded Holy of Holies is forever etched in my heart, so thankful for this spiritual encounter that I dare share with you now.

Jesus waits for me–waits for us all–to visit Him in all the Tabernacles of the world, no matter their outward appearance, wherever He has planted us.

Please, Come, visit your own Tabernacle…Jesus is waiting for You there.

O Treasure of Heaven!  Most Holy Tabernacle!

your scribe for love