The courtyard of the convent for the Sisters of Divine Providence had become of place of refuge for Manny, particularly during Evensong. There was something familiar about the angelic choir, their sacred songs wafting through the night in perfect harmony; he always felt close to heaven here. And heaven knows he was missing his holy home. He had not seen or heard from Gabriel in weeks. The lack of communication was taking its toll on Manny. And on the Higher Grounds Café, no doubt.
The soft grass welcomed him as he sank to his knees, inviting the worship to wash away the cares of the day. But his mind raced against the tempo of the choral melody, his clamoring thoughts creating a dissonance only Manny could hear. He felt like the conductor of an orchestra gone rogue.
Rest! Manny forced his mind into a moment of stillness before allowing his thoughts to resume at a more melodic rhythm.
How had he allowed the God Blog to be stolen? Why hadn’t he been warned? Had he failed Chelsea and, even worse, God? Was this apparent silence from the heavens his punishment?
Staccato beads of sweat dripped off his anxious forehead. His heart was beating like a bass line. He had never felt so human, so weak. He knew the ultimate victory belonged to heaven, but that did not mean every battle would be won.
The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.
The words came through loud and clear, a calming refrain written by the Maestro himself. Manny recalled the great oratorio, first heard in a garden called Gethsemane. He found comfort in knowing he was not alone in his distress. Heaven had not abandoned him. Nor would heaven abandon Manny.
Not my will, but your will be done.
The words struck a chord with Manny as never before. He repeated them aloud with resolve. “Not my will, but your will be done.”