Dear Godfather,
I wish I could talk to you but will try to get someone to carry this letter for me instead. I am so confused about Father’s request. He says maybe my calling is to save Anglecynn, not just to be a bride of Christ. It sounds very grand, saving Anglecynn. How could I refuse such a mission, such a calling? But the thought of giving myself to Sven fills me with horror – even more since I overheard you telling Father that he already has a wife. How can I give this body I have pledged to God to someone who doesn’t even believe in Our Lord? (I know, I haven’t made my vows yet, but you know that I have always considered myself consecrated.)
Always considered myself. But there is another piece of my confusion, Godfather. I used to feel such joy when I thought about Jesus and his love for me. Even when I was a very little girl, I used to hear his voice, sometimes from the well, sometimes on the wind, often in the chapel. Now I hear nothing, Godfather. Sometimes I wait in silence, often I beg for him to speak to me, and there is nothing, no voice, no comfort, no joy. Only dryness and confusion. Just one more month to the Lammas Day I’ve waited a lifetime for, and instead of anticipation I feel only confusion.
Sister Norbert thinks we – Hilde and I—spend too much time with Wil. She thinks he distracts us; and he is a lovely boy, Godfather, so strong and handsome, so clever, but so tender and sorrowing still for his dear father and mother. I think he really likes Hilde; at first that made me jealous, and I knew that was wrong; but I’ve confessed it and said my penance, and I really don’t feel that way anymore. I would miss Hilde if she left the Abbey but I think she likes him, too, and it would be so nice if they could start a family, the family that each one has longed for for so long. How different that marriage would be from a marriage between me and Sven! But did I damage my relationship with Jesus by thinking about the love of a man and a woman? Is that why I’ve lost my joy? Did I take my eyes off Jesus, like Peter crossing the water, and now I’m sinking into the waves? But when Peter cried out, Jesus rescued him. Why hasn’t Jesus rescued me, Godfather? Why am I still struggling in these waves? (First dryness and now waves, is it? My mind flits like a moth around a flame tonight.)
I must end, Godfather, the bells are calling us to Compline. The bells always gave me comfort, too. What is happening to me?
Your devoted godchild
Eadyth
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