“I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—the great locust and the young locust, the other locusts and the locust swarm—my great army that I sent among you. You will have plenty to eat, until you are full, and you will praise the name of the Lord your God, who has worked wonders for you; never again will my people be shamed.” (Joel 2: 25-26)
June 1st was David’s birthday. His age doesn’t matter, but celebrating the day he came into the world does. Without such an event, my world would be dramatically different. While the peripherals that fill my day would be the same – serving my Savior, working hard at my day job, and tending our yard and gardens every weekend – my existence would be less complete without David.
Every day, I wake up and go to sleep, nestling in the arms of someone who loves me. While remotely connected to my workplace, I’m also watching my husband working in the yard, building new things to enhance our lives, and napping on the couch whenever he wants to. I love that “tinkering around” has become David’s new hobby in his recently retired world. I love that I can get and give kisses and hugs whenever I want them. I am grateful to have a partner who helps me care for, feed, and love our growing fur-baby family.
The beautiful new deck David built inside formerly unused space beside our screen porchgreatly enhances our yard.
Most importantly, I cherish the fact that I have a husband who daily reads God’s Word with me, sits beside me in the church pew on Sunday, and prays with me before every meal – with our heads touching, arms around each other in praise, glory, and petition to our Heavenly Father. There is nothing like having a Godly husband who understands my awe, reverence, and respect for my Creator. Nothing.
I still marvel at how my Heavenly Father brought two strangers together while we were serving Him in a town decimated by a natural disaster. Only God could have joined our two hearts so quickly after meeting. Only Christ could have pre-ordained our connection – despite separate lifetimes of loneliness, disappointment, and rejection. Only the Holy Spirit could have touched our hearts to open, blossom, and embrace one another on such a deep level of kinship and commitment. Our relationship, love, and lives can only be as entwined as they are because our Creator continually contains us with His loving hand of protection, provision, and power. It’s all beyond measure.
The new BBQ Tool Set David received for his birthday brought a boyish grin to his face.
What a joy it was to see David’s face filled with love after every call he received from his friends and family on his birthday.
“I have everything,” he told my mom on our call. My heart swelled with elation at seeing that statement’s truth permeating David’s glowing countenance.
“What I love about you today,” I told David, repeating our affirmation ritual, “is that I know I will always have you in my life – for all eternity. There is peace in affirming how God brought us together and that we will never be apart. We’re together now for all eternity.”
That’s quite a statement, considering that David and I spent three-quarters of our lives searching for each other. I had long ago given up believing that such a love – built on respect and adoration of our Savior – could even exist. We both resigned ourselves to serve Christ and find peace and joy there. While worshipping Him, our Heavenly Father said, “Wait until you see this! Look at the miracle I’m giving you!”
“I feel like a kid in a candy store,” David said as he reached out to me when we walked the dogs later in the evening. “I can’t stop smiling!”
“That’s just what you said to me in the early days of our friendship,” I reminisced. “Do you remember? You said, ‘We’ll be kids again, together.'”
“Of course I do,” David said while showing me the boyish grin that consistently melts my heart.
It’s hard to tell who’s happier in this photo – David or our fur babies – Blondie (front) and Brownie (back).
What a miracle our love is. Whatever we lost in our time before meeting seems like a distant memory now – from a lifetime ago, God not only restored what we lost, He blessed us beyond imagination with a love that neither David nor I could ever fathom.
Like the Israelites long ago, God has repaid us “for the years the locusts have eaten.” (Joel 2:25). Fickle as the Israelites were by following foreign gods after entering the Promised Land, God’s anger at His chosen people was eventually satiated. He heard the cries of His people, forgave them, and brought them back to His side once more.
As the preceding words of Joel tell us in verses 22-24: “God took pity on His people and returned to them what they lost in their time of punishment. ‘Do not be afraid, land of Judah; be glad and rejoice. Surely the Lord has done great things! Do not be afraid, you wild animals, for the pastures in the wilderness are becoming green. The trees are bearing their fruit; the fig tree and the vine yield their riches. Be glad, people of Zion, rejoice in the Lord your God, for He has given you the autumn rains because He is faithful. He sends you abundant showers, both autumn and spring rains, as before. The threshing floors will be filled with grain; the vats will overflow with new wine and oil.”
That’s precisely how it is with David and I. While we wandered in search of God, calling out for grace and forgiveness, He returned everything we’ve lost over the years – and then some. Our cups are overflowing with His goodness. Our storehouses are full of His grain.
As David’s birthday ended, I couldn’t help but praise my Savior for my husband’s special day, when the man God knew David would become was born. It may have taken years of wandering in a parched and thirsty land to find one another, but we are drinking in abundant praise to our Lord and Savior now – with supreme gratitude.
God gave us this beautiful love gift – written on the sky during one of evening dog walks.
There is no greater gift than God’s love upon our unworthy souls. Our lives have been restored beyond measure on David’s birthday and beyond. Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift.
Amplifying St. Francis – Italian Honeymoon, Part 4
And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)
For decades, I’ve always felt a kindred unity with St. Francis, the patron saint of Italy, nature, and animals. While my initial fondness for St. Francis began after hearing the simple prayer attributed to him, I’ll admit that learning his Feast Day or remembrance would take place on my birthday – October 4th – further unified our kinship. The final linchpin came when I discovered that many churches celebrate the Feast Day of St. Francis with a service to bless animals. Then, I wholeheartedly embraced everything he stood for: evangelism, humility, love, service, and the unadulterated appreciation for all God’s creatures.
Me outside the Basilica of San Francesco, Oct. 2015.
Feast Day Pageant in Assisi, Italy, October 2015.
The first time I visited Assisi, Italy – St. Francis’ hometown – was back in 2015. My mom and I had taken the first of our six European trips the year before. Wanting to return to Italy again, I researched whether any festivities would be held in Assisi on October 4th. Much to my delight, I discovered that an annual religious pageant would be held to honor the saint. What better way to celebrate my birthday than with an Italian festival, I thought. And so we did! Between viewing the monumental cathedrals, basking in the beautiful Umbrian countryside, and watching what seemed like the whole country celebrating my favorite saint on my birthday, I didn’t think anything could be any better. Much to my delight, it could and did.
A statue of St. Francis in knightly garb on horseback graces the church lawn outside the Basilica de San Francesco in Assisi, Italy. The sculpture expertly captures Francis’ dejected spirit after returning home following the Perugian war.
Flash forward to eight years later, in October 2023, when I was privileged to return to Assisi – this time with my new husband. This time, I wasn’t just revisiting the place that brought me such fond memories years before. This time, I was visiting Assisi to celebrate not just the Feast Day of St. Francis on my birthday but also to partake in my honeymoon with my soulmate. I felt doubly blessed to share the beauty of Italy with my spouse, along with the spirit of this patron saint who always touched my soul.
Born in the hill town of Assisi, Italy, in 1181, Francis’ father was a wealthy fabric merchant. Initially christened as Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone, the renowned saint didn’t keep his given name long as his father preferred the name Francesco or Francis as he’s more commonly referred to outside Italy.
As their only son, his parents indulged Francis from birth – and it showed. Francis was always popular amongst his peers due to his love of boisterous living, reckless spending, and charismatic nature. In his early twenties, Francis found himself caught up in the perceived glamour of war and joined his friends to wage battle against the neighboring city of Perugia.
Unfortunately for Francis, the battle didn’t end well. He was captured by the opposition and held for ransom for almost a year. Shortly after his release from imprisonment, Francis became extremely ill with malaria – a disease that plagued the saint his entire life and likely contributed to his death.
The Basilica de Santa Clara sits on the south end of Assisi, Italy. Clare (Clara in Italian) followed Francis’ example and established her own sect of nuns who, like Francis’ monks, also lived in self-imposed poverty while helping the impoverished in their community. Read more about Clare and her Order of Poor Ladiesby visiting https://www.biography.com/religious-figures/saint-clare-of-assisi.
The above photo shows one of the medieval frescoes in the Basilica Inferiore of St. Francis. The scenes depict Biblical and medieval stories. Many of these artistic creations – painted in the 13th and 14th Centuries by the likes of Simone Martini, Pietro Lorenzetti, Cimabue, Pietro Cavallini, and (possibly) Giotto – were painstakingly cleaned and restored following a spate of earthquakes (23 in total) that shook the region, the most recent occurring in 1997. The colors and clarity are as beautiful today as when they were initially painted.
Undaunted by his travails, Francis celebrated his recovery by accompanying a fellow knight to another battle – this time against the Germans. At the onset of his journey, Francis encountered an impoverished man and was deeply moved by the traveler’s poverty. Compelled to help, Francis compulsively changed clothes with the stranger – trading his wealthy apparel for rags. Upon returning to his quest, Francis suffered a relapse of malaria that debilitated him, yet again. During this bout of infirmity, Francis heard God tell him “to serve the Master rather than the man,” – a calling he later adopted wholeheartedly.
Disillusioned by his former lifestyle, Francis began a new quest – this one of a spiritual nature. Hoping to discover his life’s purpose, Francis would often wander the countryside for extended intervals. It was during one of these walks that Francis encountered his first leper. Initially shocked by the man’s appearance, Francis’ reaction quickly transformed from revulsion to compassion. Without thought for himself, Francis grabbed the leper’s hands to kiss them, ultimately giving all the money in his possession to this less fortunate soul.
This encounter inevitably became a turning point in Francis’ life. From that day forward, he began seeking out the poor – both near and afar. On one such occasion, he enthusiastically gave all his clothing to a group of beggars while visiting Rome. There, Francis learned the humility of having to beg for the mercy of strangers as he stood amongst the impoverished with outstretched hands.
Returning home, the well-intentioned Francis packed his father’s horse with a bundle of fabric – ultimately selling the goods and the horse in the nearby town of Foligno. Although Francis attempted to give the proceeds of this sale to the priest of a nearby, broken-down church known as San Damiano, the priest refused to accept the money – hesitant to receive benefit from ill-gotten gains. A somewhat disillusioned Francis then offered his services instead.
His labor being acceptable, Francis soon began assisting the priest in the much-needed restoration of San Damiano. All seemed good until his father came looking for him. Frightened by his father’s wrath, Francis hid for a month before returning home to beg forgiveness.
View of the Spoleto Valley from the wall surrounding the city of Assisi.
Unmoved by his son’s appeals, Peter beat Francis mercilessly – fettering his ankles and eventually hauling him to the church to stand trial for his theft. Overcome with remorse, Francis returned the money he had stolen from his father, along with all the clothes he was wearing at the time.
Standing naked before the priest, Francis made a life-shattering announcement. “Hither to I have called Peter Bernadone father,” Francis proclaimed. “From now on I say only, ‘Our Father, who art in Heaven.'”
In shock, the bishop covered Francis’ naked body with his own cloak until a gardening smock could be provided. Rather than shame, this simple act of surrender filled Francis with great joy. After this incident, he spent months roaming the countryside, praising God, and working for his daily provisions. Months later, a childhood friend took pity on him and provided Francis with food, clothing, and shelter.
Unsatisfied by his contrition, Francis inevitably returned to San Damiano to help again – this time seeing the restoration work through until completion. Upon concluding his work at San Damiano, Francis took notice of an even more dilapidated chapel, St. Mary of the Portiuncula, which stood in ruins just a few miles from Assisi. Owned by a Benedictine monastery, this ramshackle chapel ultimately became Francis’ next project. Determined to restore the church ruins to their former state, Francis’ labors soon became known throughout the region. His successful restoration work might have led him to spend the rest of his days as a hermit had God not pursued this humble servant for an even greater calling.
A ceremonial casket adorning the wall of the St. Nicola Chapel in the Basilica Inferiore is visible behind an encased burlap cloak, socks, and rope worn by St. Francis. Francis’ grave remained undiscovered until 1818, following an excavation of the church’s lower level commissioned by Pope Pius VII. Francis’ remains were later interred inside a stone pillar below the church in the Cripta di San Francesco. The space features a chapel for visitors to light candles and pay respect to the beloved saint.
While restoring this decrepit church, Francis came across a passage of scripture that compelled him to take further action. Matthew 10: 8-10 guided Francis with these simple words: “Freely you received, freely give. Do not acquire gold, or silver, or copper for your money belts, or a bag for your journey, or even two coats, or sandals, or a staff; for the worker is worthy of his support.”
Receiving an epiphany from God, Francis cast off the last of his worldly goods – his cloak, shoes, and leather girdle – keeping only his rough outer tunic, which he tied to his waist with a rope. Francis’ simple ways, uplifting spirit, and joyous acceptance of poverty and charity soon earned him a following. It wasn’t long before other believers joined Francis by taking up the mantle of poverty and service alongside him. For the next year, he and his fellow companions began preaching to the poor, helping farmers in their fields, and living as beggars by whatever means were provided to them.
Seeking affirmation regarding his new lifestyle, Francis felt compelled to learn whether his notion of simple service to God through self-imposed poverty might be an acceptable way to live and guide others. Francis and his fellow companions traveled to Rome, hoping to receive the Pope’s counsel. Francis was only 28 when he undertook this journey of roughly 342 miles on foot – with no provisions for the pilgrimage.
David and I secured a great spot along the wall near the Basilica of St. Francis to better view the Feast Day pageant.
Granted an audience with Pope Innocent III, Francis received approval to further his mission. Ecstatic at this newfound validation, Francis and his companions joyously returned to Assisi, where he was later gifted with the beloved chapel he had restored in Portiuncula along with the adjoining grounds – in perpetuity. Affirmed and invigorated, Francis soon began the consecration of his fellow friars in what would eventually become known as the order of the Franciscan Friars. This ordination continues its charitable work and pious living to this day.
This fresco depicting St. Francis and his fellow monks visiting Pope Innocent III adorns one of the walls of the Basilica Superioreor Upper Basilica of San Francesco.
Beautiful, three-storied, medieval tower home where David and I stayed during our four-night stay on the outskirts of Assisi, Italy.
This brings me back to David’s and my October 2023 visit to Assisi. For our five-night stay, we were privileged to overnight in a three-storied, medieval tower home dating back to 1500. The house was likely a watchtower with a stable or tavern on the lower level. Surrounded by olive groves, our view of the Spoleto valley was stunning – only eclipsed by the view from the hill town of Assisi itself. Each day we were there, David and I pulled a tavern table out to sit in the small yard and create our own sidewalk café overlooking the valley.
David and I enjoyed dining al fresco on the little table we pulled out from the tavern below our Assisi vacation home. While the sloping hill made the tabletop uneven, we still felt incredibly blessed to eat at our own little sidewalk cafe in the Umbrian countryside.
In Assisi, we visited the two-storied Basilica of Santa Clara at the southern end of town and the three-storied Basilica of San Francesco – book-ended at the north. The medieval frescoes covering the Franciscan Basilica walls were stunning unto themselves. Still, David and I were unequivocally blessed not just to see the church but also to attend a free operatic concert in the lower sanctuary.
Hearing Mozart and Schubert while surrounded by the unparalleled, centuries-old artistry in this holy cathedral stirred my heart and soul in a way I’ll never forget. At the stroke of the first chord that resonated in sheer perfection throughout the space’s acoustics, both David and I were brought to shed tears of wonder and gratitude at God’s indescribable gift. We had no previous notion about the concert – having only chanced upon an advertising poster, in Italian, outside the lower sanctuary while touring the historic church that same afternoon. What were the odds of us being there at the right time and place? Our discovery could only have occurred by the hand of God, and we knew it.
This poster advertised the operatic concert that David and I attended in Assisi. If we’d not toured the church that day, we’d never have seen this poster nor been aware of the free performance that same evening.
Days later, on my birthday, David and I arrived early in Assisi to wait for the afternoon’s procession to begin. Having witnessed the pageant eight years prior, I knew what to expect and chose a great spot near the wall that overlooked the street where the procession would begin from the lower level, out through the street, and up to the front of the basilica. Franciscan monks from every walk of life were accompanied by countless nuns from around the world who’d traveled to the city for this annual event.
The pageant is led by clergymen carrying crosses and an ancient Franciscan relic of some sort. This year’s relic – permanently encased in glass and mounted on a brass staff – appeared to be a small, written parchment – presumably from the quill of St. Francis himself.
A cantor standing on a rooftop tower led the procession in a responsorial request for forgiveness. While we couldn’t grasp all the Italian words spoken, we understood that the cantor was beseeching various saints for forgiveness. At each pause, those olive branch-carrying processiongoers responded with repeated, sing-song intonations of “Prega perdone,” meaning “Pray for forgiveness.” Slowly and steadily, the line curved around from the lower sanctuary, along the street, then turned onto the front lawn, continuing to the front doors.
As seen above, a monk carried a glass and brass-enclosed Franciscan relic in the 2023 pageant on the Feast Day of St. Francis. The relic appeared to be a written page scripted by St. Francis himself.
On an impulse, I grabbed David’s arm and told him I wanted to join in. “Let’s go,” I said as we moved with the crowd. We stopped with the procession in front of the church and listened patiently as the bishop provided a brief homily in Italian from the rooftop balcony. Afterward, the basilica’s doors opened, and we again joined the crowd to move inside the upper sanctuary.
The tower in the middle of this photo is where the Bishop and cantor spoke and sang during the Feast Day of St. Francis pageant in Assisi, Italy.
Only then did I realize the service was continuing with a choir accompanying the chords played by a magnificent pipe organ. Seeing others filming inside the space, I quickly did the same with my phone, capturing everything I could in the room where photographing usually is not allowed.
Although David and I couldn’t understand what was spoken or sung, we knew we were surrounded by fellow believers in a sacred space. I was so grateful to my Creator for not only finally being able to capture a bit of the centuries-old frescoes telling the life of St. Francis that adorned the sanctuary walls but also to worship my Creator in this place with my God-given husband.
The joy that accompanied this entire visit – from our walks through the town, our attendance at an unplanned, soul-stirring concert in the basilica, our spontaneous pageant accompaniment, and the magnificent blessing of being able to attend part of a service in this grand cathedral were all nothing short of a tremendous gift from God.
While I’m not quite prepared to surrender all my worldly goods to live as Francis did, I can still embrace and amplify his mindset. As Micah 6: 8 reminds us, “And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”
May I never cease to do so – not just while walking the steps that St. Francis walked in Assisi, but every single day of my life.
