PRAYER FOR ANGEL MONDAY

I want to repeat you today, my Lord, the same words that others have already said to you. The words of Mary of Magdala, the woman thirsting for love, not resigned to death. And he asked you, while he could not see you, because the eyes cannot see what the heart truly loves, where you were. God can be loved, cannot be seen. And he asked you, believing you were the gardener, where you had been placed.

To all the gardeners of life, which is always the garden of God, I too would like to ask where they put the Beloved God, crucified for love.

I would also like to repeat the words of the brown shepherdess, that of the Song of Songs heated or burned by your love, because your love warms and burns and heals and transforms, and she said to you, while she did not see you but loved you and felt you beside: "Tell me where you lead your flock to graze and where you rest in the moment of great heat."

I know where you lead your flock.

I know where you go to rest in the moment of great heat.

I know that you called me, elected, justified, gratified.

But I cultivate the sincere desire to come to you by trampling on your footsteps, loving your silence, looking for you when oxen or the storm rages.

Don't let me stagger on the waves of the sea. I could totally sink.

I'd like to shout with Maria di Magdala too:

“Christ, my hope is risen.

It precedes us in the Galilee of the Gentiles "

And I will come to you, running, to see you and tell you:

"My Lord, my God."