"Mike Yaconelli, the cofounder of Youth Specialties, tells about the time when,

dejected and demoralized, he trundled off with wife, Karla, to Toronto, Canada,

to make a five day retreat at the L'Arche (The Ark) Community. He went hoping

to draw inspiration from the mentally and physically handicapped people who lived

there or find solace in the presence and preaching of Henri Nouwen. Instead, he

found his true self. He tells his story:  "It took only a few hours of silence before

I began to hear my soul speaking.  It took being alone for a short period of time for

me to discover I wasn't alone. God had been trying to shout over the noisiness of my

life, but I couldn't hear Him.  But, in the stillness and solitude, God's whispers

shouted from my soul.  "Michael, I am here.  I have been calling you, but you

haven't been listening.  Can you hear me Michael?  I love you.  I have always loved

you and I have been waiting for you to hear me say that to you, but you have been

so busy trying to prove yourself and to prove that you are loved, that you haven't

heard me."  I heard him and my slumbering soul was filled with the joy of the

prodigal son.  My soul was awakened by a loving father who had been looking and

waiting for me.  Finally I accepted my brokenness . . . I had never come to terms

with that.  Let me explain.  I knew I was broken. I knew I was a sinner.  I knew I

continually disappointed God, but I could never accept that part of me.  It was a

part of me that embarrassed me.  I continually felt the need to apologize, to run

from my weaknesses, to deny who I was and to concentrate on what I should be.

I was broken, yes.  But I was continually trying never to be broken again, or at

least to get to the place where I was very seldom broken. . .  At L'Arche it became

very clear to me that I had totally misunderstood the Christian faith. I came to see

that it was in my brokenness, in my powerlessness, in my weakness, that Jesus

was made strong.  It was in the acceptance in my lack of faith that God could

give me faith. It was in the embracing of my brokenness that I could identify with

other's brokenness.  It was my role to identify with other's pain, not to relieve it.

Ministry was sharing, not dominating; understanding, not theologizing;  caring,

not fixing.  Now what does all of this mean?  I don't know . . . and to be quite

blunt, that is the wrong question. I only know that at a certain time in all of our

lives, we make an adjustment in the course of our lives and this is one of those

times for me.  If you were to look at a map of my life, you would not be aware

of any noticeable difference, other than a slight change of direction.  I can only

tell you that it feels very different now.  There is an anticipation and an electricity

about God's presence in my life that I have never experienced before.  I can only

tell you that for the first time in my life, I can hear Jesus whisper to me every day,

" Michael, I love you.  You are beloved."  And for some strange reason, that

seems to be enough."

"Abba's Child - The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging" , by Brennan Manning. NAVPRESS 1994, pp51.