A Flame Within

       From our low seat beside the fire
             Where we have dozed and dreamed and watched the glow
      Or raked the ashes, stopping so
We scarcely saw the sun or rain...

And then they heard a call, and an angel "swept in and out and that was all", but it flung wide the door "which will not shut again"...

    And so we cannot sit here any more
                        We must arise and go:
              The world is cold without
              And dark and hedged about
       With mystery and enmity and doubt,
                        But we must go
             Though yet we do not know
Who called, or what marks we shall leave upon the snow.

- "The Call" by Charlotte Mew (really, I wanted to write out the whole poem...)

This is incredibly significant for us right now, almost takes my breath away - not easy to leave that comfy fire, but not much choice really when the call comes - and though I doubt it often, the fact is, we must go...

Another amazing thing - we came to our colleagues near Lavre today, for Mike to shovel muck from their calves, and without asking, Elisabeth lit a fire for me to take my photo - like a gift from s/he who called.