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Father Juan Carlos took a deep purposed breath. He loved the smell of the church, the beeswax that coated the thick stucco walls, the lemon oil on the mesquite wood benches, the fine desert dust mixed with the scent of burned sage incense and candle wax, it was clean and cathartic. He loved the heavy silence in the cool air of the morning desert. He could hear his heart, he could hear his thoughts, and he could hear his God. He loved his God and he loved the place God had placed him to serve.
There was a connection with this place and with his service that was ordained and predestined and he didn’t take it lightly. Not a day went by that the love of Father Miguel, the epitome of the love of God itself, didn’t cross his mind.
It was that love that had called him to this ultimate life
