Heart of Stone

Over a month ago, I got back from one of the most tiring trips, I’ve ever experienced. To be honest, I hadn’t been a hundred percent sure if I wanted to go. It was a trip to Europe - France and Rome. I had studied abroad in Rome so I knew it well and we would only be in France for a couple of days. The thought in the back of my head was Is there anything on this trip that will change me? I’ve seen the major tourist attractions in Rome. I’ve also been in the beautiful churches and seen the architecture that is mesmerizing. There’s not much that seems “life-changing”. We would also be in France for only a couple of days. On top of all of that, it would be for a little over a week.

Swallowing what I could of my pride, I went. I knew it would be difficult to stick with a group and not want to do my own thing - particularly in Rome. So, I went trying to hold my skepticism at bay. The first couple of days in France were absolutely amazing. It was beautiful to be in the city of Lourdes and experience the Grotto and get to know some of the local people. Once we arrived in Rome, though, it became increasingly difficult. We had to walk miles and miles every single day and I wasn’t used to that at all. My feet hurt like crazy and there was hardly ever any rest.

It was on one of the longest and most difficult days that I felt Him speak so clearly to me. That day, we had been in the Vatican and attended Mass. We were even able to see the pope. (Although, I hardly saw him because of my height and the people pushing in front of me had their phones raised high) So many of the people around me were crying and overjoyed but I honestly didn’t feel much. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t super overjoyed. In fact, I was really annoyed with some of the people around me and was struggling to want to be there. I wanted to go home.

I looked to a dear friend of mine who was feeling emotional over seeing the pope and wondered to myself if my heart was as cold as stone. Here I was in one of the most beautiful cities on earth and I wasn’t moved. Not one inch. I couldn’t make myself cry either. It made me think of another dear friend of mine who is moved by music as well. I just never cried. People consider me an emotional person because I’m sensitive, but it takes a lot for me to even shed a tear when I’m experiencing something. I want to feel it deeply, but it feels like a wall is blocking me. It frustrates me.

So, I looked up to the sky and saw the moon which always reminded me of hope. The weather had cooled significantly and the Vatican looked stunning at dusk. I felt the Father whisper into my heart, Patience, my daughter. But my feet still hurt and I longed to go back to bed.

We began walking back towards the metro station and realized that there was a concert going on. Some of my friends wanted to stay and because it was so lively and I absolutely love concerts, I decided to stay. At one point, the music began mellowing and my tired feet began begging for me to sit down. I began regretting not going back.

As I was standing there, enjoying the music with my friends, the artist that they wanted to perform, came on stage. Many of the people around me knew who they were and were chanting their name. They began singing and once the lyrics registered, my jaw dropped.

My vision turned blurry and my eyes were swimming with tears as sobs began shaking my body. The one thing I so desperately wished had happened. Happened. I could not stop sobbing. More lyrics hit me and I got chills all over my body as I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. The funny part was that the person next to me, kept glancing at me as everyone else put their arms around each other. I bet he wondered what was wrong with me. But I had just never heard those lyrics before. Ever.

And guess who were they about? The Father. And the intense way He loves me. They were words that I so desperately needed to hear. Memories of being alone this past year and fighting so hard to survive both jobs and to love those around me hit me. Written in some of those dark memories edits began to be made. They were edited with His Presence. He was there. Hugging me. Loving me. Staying with me.

If you ever wonder what the Father thinks about you, I encourage you to find Him in those hobbies you love so much. For me, it’s music, writing, and my friendships.

Know that I’m praying for you!

*Also, if you’re curious about what song I’m talking about, it’s called “Un Segundo” by Hakuna. It is in Spanish, just fyi. I also recommend the song Dear God by Cory Asbury.