Reflections

Water's edge, faces are found
What one finds, not alone
Worthy wishes of want and desire,
Waiting on the time, Love Divine.

A hand reaches out, touching
The water's surface, unsettling
The image given of love, of other
And of other in self.

Water's edge, changing what was
Shows something even more,
Love in the other to be reflected,
Love once in glass, now shattered.

A tear falls down, sadness dropping
Water shakes, water roils from below
Ripples run, in all directions
The hearts fail to love as one.

Water's edge clears to a new scene,
One of searching hearts, one of longing:
Two faces, one place—both fighting—
Fighting for the safety of grace, of something more.

Reflections found, something more
Desires of heart, patience in heart.
Seeking hearts, one place
All in all, Truth in Love.

Reflections of love,
Truth in the flesh.

If I Could Dream a Dream

If I could dream a dream, I would dream one of you. We do these things and the other things not because they are easy, but because they are hard. If I could, I would right now, dream beyond this world and place, to another, to a far different place. If I could muster a voice strong enough, innovative enough, I would voice one strong enough for you.

If I could go to the Moon and snatch it, from the deepest reaches of the mind, and grab it, I would bring it to you— no different, no surprising than a smile before your face. If I could, I would fight the darkness that abounds, the battles that are found. I would fight them for you.

If I could do nothing more than love you, to bring everything before you, I would. I would bring every last morsel, every drop to drink. I would bring them to you. If I could gather all to you under the roof of love and sustain you because of this, I would. I would bear all things for you.

If I could be light for your light, to bring that light to this world of darkness, I would. I would carry it forward, to every crevasse, every valley, every pit of darkness. If I could, I would carry it for you. If I could in all I do, I would be light for you.

If I could be love for your love, a smiling face, a turn of grace—one to love in your very place—I would bring them all, all of them to love. If I could be love, then maybe I would understand. I would understand your plan. If I could be love, then I would understand.

If I could understand the world, its ways, its many shades of gray, what would I stand to lose in you? If I could stand beneath this waterfall of grace, would I not be washed from my pain? If I could stand with you, I would sing with a voice renewed, a voice in Truth.

If I could stand firm with your grace, I would spread your fragrance to every place. With every step, let me stay with you. If I could bring the world to you, I would. If I trust you in all steps lit by lamp, I would be secure in each step. If I would only trust, I would find the path to you.

If I could find that voice, one of love to give, one strong enough to live each day secure, I would be strong enough, strong enough for you. If I could dream the dream of love, I would dream one of you. I would dream a dream of you.

Always Breathe

Always breathe in the breath that God gave you...
Always breathe in the Life God intends for you...
Always give the breath of Life to others that God plans through you...
Always breathe in the Life, even if it's hard to remember to keep on breathing.


Poetry is nothing more than breathing put to words—the exhalations of thoughts put to rhythm and rhyme to exclaim the joys of the Divine.

The Vianney File

Below is what I've decided to call "The Vianney File." It's a series of four poems that I wrote during a visit to Houston for the dramatic performance Vianney about St. John Vianney. Sitting in the pew at the premiere, I wrote the following poems with my own voice but also with an attentive ear to St. John Vianney's life and his voice, specifically Vianney's love for the Eucharist and Confession.

In the first, Sanctus, I explore the timelessness of the Sacrifice and the words tied to it, specifically, "Sanctus." This one was written during the opening hymn before the performance. The sacred music did so much to raise my soul to write these words.

In the second, Moment of Grace, I have attempted to link the Eucharist and the necessary Reconciliation for that communion. I've also explored here some of the sacramental life in general that all Catholics are called to. This one came in rapid succession to the first. It also acts as a personal prayer of thanksgiving through the line "Soul rejoices over the Other." It is, in fact, a thanksgiving for the communion of persons shared that evening from the community of St. Mary's in College Station. The moments of grace and the moments of love are one in the same.

In the third, Weeping in Love, I explore a phrase used during the production by St. John Vianney: "Weeping in love." It's something Vianney did often, and through this poem I try to emulate with dignity. He did indeed find little rest, but it was because he emulated Jesus in giving of himself to his flock, to his loved ones. And so we must do, in our little ways, also.

The fourth, Faithful Families, is a poem of appeal. It is an appeal that was veiled in the historical nature of Vianney's time as well as ours today—the growing secularism of society and the general godlessness of today. This poem is meant as an arousal from the doldrums of our faith. It is a call to action.

If we do not rise to be of faithful families, how are we to go forth and positively change the world? Can it be done if we do not root ourselves first in the Faith? Love cannot be broached by lustful desire, and rightly so only the water He gives brings forth Eternal Life. His love does cover a multitude of sins, and, in this poem, the prayer goes forth for all to return to the fold.

The fourth poem took the longest to compose, seeing as the natural light in the Sanctuary disappeared as the performance continued on, but like ones before this one it was brought to fruition later before the Blessed Sacrament. Even so, I am nearly certain there will be more poems of the sort to fill this file, maybe some more trivial, but what matters most is not the secondary messenger but the Message itself. Here they are, as of yet...


Sanctus

What words to describe,
Life, love—timeless in sight...
What glory given—
Words, those words: Sanctus!

What joy in communion,
Faithful wonder and mystery,
Timeless joy in oneness—
Faithful communion, Sanctus!

What wonder in love,
Faceless and seen all the same,
What wonder in sight—
The moment becomes eternal, Sanctus!

What gift in love—
Blessed Communion in Spirit,
Blessed Communion in Host,
Blessed Communion in the Other,
Blessed Communion in Love!
Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus!


Moment of Grace

Moment of grace,
Moment of love—
Absolution from the Mark,
Communion face-to-face!

Spirit graces Soul,
Soul rejoices over the Other,
Spirit and Soul soar skyward—
Soul speaks His Glory.

What gift immeasurable, the Moment
No length of time can compare
Where love and grace meet—
The Soul that is spared.

What glory to speak, a mystery
Without fear, without worry—
Perfect love casts out fear,
Soul rejoices over the Other.

Moment of grace,
Moment Eternal,
What love to revere!
Soul speaks His Glory!

Movement of heart,
From stone to life,
Where grasp is turned to gift,
Gift of face-to-face.

Heart Afire, Heart of Glory,
Speak to us now,
Speak to us with gift of grace,
Communion face-to-face!

Moment upon moment,
United through the moments
To love in the Moment—
To see His Glory face-to-face.


Weeping in Love

Weeping in love,
Immeasurable grief,
Abandonment to God's will,
Dependence in His Providence.

Weeping in love,
Fighting the tears,
What of my direction?
Am I even near?

Weeping in love,
Turning all to Him,
Leaving all behind,
Turning to His Grace.

Weeping in love,
Finding no rest,
No rest for the weary,
Only rest in Him.

Weeping in love,
No conversion without price,
No victory without defeat,
No joy without grief.

Weeping in love,
God fills in the lacking,
The missing He restores;
God gives His Love Restored.

Weeping in love,
All hearts are to be,
Given to the Other
In perfect harmony.

Weeping in love,
That is who we are to be.


Faithful Families

Family of the living,
Family of the past,
What have you done,
Forsaking all the past?

Where is thy devotion,
Where is thy love?
Where are your hearts
That are supposed to be burning with love?

In the brothels,
In the dens—
With wanton looks,
With the multitude of sins!

What choice is there
When love is broached
By lustful desire to be filled
And yet never is fully filled?

No amount of water
Will slake your deadly thirst,
Unless you drink of His water,
Unless you let Him love you first.

His love covers the multitude of sins;
The many souls He saves.
His love does this all;
The whole world He saves.

Don't you get this,
The magnitude of this message?
Don't you understand it,
The Truth in this Age?

He covers all in His love.
Return O families to Him.
With all mercy He restores,
By the Father's right hand, it is Him.

Grace upon grace,
No matter the distress,
Build a Civilization of Love—
Build on Him, the Mighty Fortress.

Faithful families rise up,
Let us pray fervently—
Pray for those lost souls—
Pray for His love to forever take hold—
Pray for mercy, mercy to behold—
Pray that all may return to the fold.

An Addendum: Catholic Ethos

I've come across something more to add to the last posting and would like to offer an addendum and an expansion to further magnify what was already stated on a Catholic political ethos.

As it was read from the Gospel according to St. John this Sunday:

Jesus said to them, "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Unlike your ancestors who ate and still died, whoever eats this bread will live forever." ( John 6:53-58)

To summarize and distill Jesus' words here and, as it were, also the call to all Christians in its very essence: "In brief, the Eucharist is the sum and summary of our faith: 'Our way of thinking is attuned to the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn confirms our way of thinking.'" (CCC 1327). These words, "Our way of thinking is attuned to the Eucharist, and the Eucharist in turn confirms our way of thinking," come to us from St. Irenaeus in the Second Century A.D.—before the Schism of East and West, before the Protestant Reformation. The question we must ask now is, why aren't we fully living it in every aspect of our lives? The Church is not stating in her teaching that it is merely our religious thinking or our political thinking. Her teaching states clearly our thinking ought to be attuned to the Eucharist, to His Sacrifice—where time and space are spanned.

This is the Catholic Ethos: the Eucharist.

In Response: A Catholic Political Ethos

I was sent a convincing collection of U.S. state constitution preambles in the context of questioning President Barack Obama's 2009 words in Turkey: "We do not consider ourselves a Christian nation or a Jewish nation or a Muslim nation. We consider ourselves a nation of citizens who are bound by ideals and a set of values."

The preambles of the constitutions use an explicit declaration of an "Almighty God" and even the Virginia Declaration of Rights states in its Article XVI: "That religion, or the duty which we owe to our Creator and the manner of discharging it, can be directed by reason and conviction, not by force or violence; and therefore, all men are equally entitled to the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience; and that it is the mutual duty of all to practice Christian forbearance, love, and charity towards each other."

I am neither going to agree or disagree with the President's words or those of the author of the e-mail I received regarding them. However, the Virginia Declaration of Right's words speak to the duty we have in our view of society and of government in general. I wish to claim it necessary, as such, to view—and thus to to judge—the whole of American society through this particular lens.

Whether or not we were, are, are going to be a Christian nation...the first thing that must be done and instilled in our civics classes is that we have the right as citizens to the exercise of our religious beliefs, which does not mean a shirking of religion from the public square. Rather, it is a healthy expression (not coercion) of religious belief. And, in that, we are to live out the free will we were given since the time of Creation and thus reiterated, time and time again, in the preambles of our state constitutions and echoed countless times through our country's existence—that a country's citizens have a right to not be coerced but to live with one's countrymen in peace and prosperity. That we are truly endowed with the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Freedom of religion (or more rightly stated as freedom from an established state religion) does not equate to freedom from the existence any religion in the public square of the State. If this were to be the case, then the citizen's liberty has been trampled upon and the citizen's pursuit of happiness been halted dead in its tracks.

All men practice religion, but only few actually know what or whom they worship. It's often money, fame, or simply the vain pursuits of life. However, the true virtue of man is to look beyond one's own happiness and see the common good, the common thread in his fellow man. The true practice of religion is to see God's graces in His humanity and His creation and see the Sacrifice He instituted, once and for all time, for the salvation of Man—for the life, the liberty, and the happiness all men deeply long for. It is because of this Sacrifice and the awe of one's gifted existence which flows from this Sacrifice that they are called to true worship, not because of coercion of belief or because of mere labels.

Only once our countrymen actually live up to this calling, to this rugged individualism balanced with a responsible love can we even dare to even call ourselves a "Christian" nation in both word and deed. Only then can we be fully proud to be Americans.

Listen to what Ronald Reagan has to say: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yS4yf723kmY

Patriotism is not meant to be blind. It must be informed, informed not just with thoughtfulness and knowledge but also compassion for one's fellow man. There is no freedom without sacrifice. Freedom exists because of sacrifice.

As Pope John Paul II once said: "As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live." We must change this country not by political speeches but by change in one family at a time. We are called to be missionaries to the secular world. It is in this missionary work that true change can—and will occur. All we must do is put our Hope in the correct place and be the change through Him who sent us—and do all this with perfect confidence in His love.

------

In chapter three of the Georgetown University Press book by Charles E. Curran, Catholic Moral Theology in the United States: a History, pages 77 to 78, the censured Curran makes an interesting deduction: that American constitutionalism as found in the prevailing inalienable rights "is in continuity with medieval constitutionalism" (78).

All other questions of Curran the theologian aside, the first two paragraphs on American political consensus are a good read. As St. Paul said in 1 Thessalonians 5:21: "Test everything; retain what is good"!

Among the Foothills

Among the foothills
Through the silence found,
I look out upon Your Creation,
What beauty to be found.

Among the foothills
Through the scene unfolded,
I see all You have made,
What handiwork unfolded.

Among the foothills
Through the trees of doubt,
I look upon Your forest of Love,
What Love even through doubt.

Among the foothills
Through the turmoil below,
I see all the joy You have given,
What joy in Faith, Hope, and Love bestowed!

Among the foothills
Through the eyes of Faith known,
I look upon Your field of Hope,
What seeds of Hope have You sewn!

Among the foothills
Through the seeds planted,
I see Your will for me unfold,
What plan so blessed have You planted!

Among the foothills
Through every scene ever told,
I look upon Your hand in it all,
What movements of grace, what hand to hold!

Among the foothills
Through this forest clearing,
I see You through it all,
What beauty in every holy being.

Among the foothills
Through this moment of time,
I look upon the sweeping vista,
What life so richly sublime.

Among the foothills
I see You in my Call,
I see You working—
Pushing my heart closer to Thine.

By the River's Edge

Voices carry
And travel down
The darkness found
By the river's edge.

The waters dance
With glowing oranges,
And ripples bounce
By the river's edge.

The flowing water,
Heard not seen,
Enters the mind
By the river's edge.

Crickets, frogs lend voice
To a symphony for two,
One star-lit view,
By the river's edge.

The stars overhead
Peak in and out,
Blanketing us with joy;
There is no moonlight tonight
Down by the river's edge.

A cypress stands before us
Framed by passing clouds,
Darkest black on orange,
Down by the river's edge.

Perched on stones
In the river's course
We open ourselves to the other;
By the water's edge we discourse.

We look to the stars
And to the still water,
To the tree before us
And a distant light afar.

What distant light is this,
This one around the bend?
Is it a man or creature
At the water's edge?

How can I forget this,
This night of distant light?
What inward search, what sight
Did those words bring out?

I wish this light would stay,
Never, never to depart.
What probing, what faint light
By the river's edge.

Come back to me,
To that very night.
Let's return again anew
To that search, for all that was said
By the river's edge.

Take Me Away

Take me away
To a dance floor,
To a simpler world...
Take me with you.

Take me away
One night at a time,
One waltz at a time...
Take me with you.

Take me away
One step at a time,
Down the dance floor...
Take me with you.

Take me away
In your arms
As we glide across the floor...
Take me with your touch.

Take me away
With each step,
With each turn...
Take me with your passion.

Take me away
With the music
That fills each of us...
Take me with your joy.

Take me away
With your deep pools,
Those unfathomable pools of green...
Take me with your eyes.

Take me away
To a simpler world,
One without so many questions...
Take me to a world with you.

Take me away
With each measure,
With each beat...
Take my whole heart.

Take me away,
Never to return
To a time before you,
Only to a world completely new...

Take me away—
Take me with you.

Stretched

One step is taken,
Then—another...
One step after another,
We, ourselves, in the Other.

This journey is not short,
Nor is it endless.
This journey depends on—
It depends on love.

His face is ever before us—
Before us He stands.
His face shines in the Other,
In the Other with outstretched hands.

This road is not easy—
Ease is not its reason.
This road depends on—
It depends on love.

Love is rarely easy—
It requires hope...
It requires faith...

It requires a ready model...
It requires a heart completely stretched...
It requires a heart poured out in love.

Yellow Rose

For a day adorned in white,
For a day celebration.
For a moment all stands still,
For a moment pure elation.

Given to the Other,
Of once two, now one light.
Given in full sight,
At once now together.

Banners float above;
Yellow banners run.
From arch to arch they run,
Signifying the new love begun.

Yellow Rose of love,
See the beauty this day,
See the love joined today,
See the graces bestowed from above.

Yellow Rose of love,
Know that love isn't for a moment
But all times, all places—
Forever a co-author of God’s graces.

Yellow Rose of love
Beneath the Spanish arch,
Stay with this moment,
Stay with it for all time.

Yellow Rose of love,
The time of pruning again will come;
The time will come to be pruned with love—
Be pruned with His love.

Yellow Rose of love,
Remain in His love,
Bear the fruit He gives now,
And blossom in the sun of day.

Yellow Rose of love,
Blossom for the world today.

Thoughts in Strange Space

Sleep has refused my mind right now, and of all the thoughts that race through my mind the vision of an overflowing fountain where all the water cannot be contained is the one. It overflows abundantly. Such is the case of my mind and heart right now. How can I keep each of these moments these past days, past weeks, and past months? I cannot. They are bound to escape into the ether, into the darkness of night. They are as elusive as of the dreams that are dreamt each night. They are probably even more heartbreaking because they are brought into consciousness in the first place.

But is it worse to have encountered a joyous moment and forgot it or to never have had that joy, that love at all? A time-worn thought indeed, it is not without worthy consideration here at this juncture. How can I not consider it now? It is a time of transition, of shifting priorities, of new directions, of new loves. And yet I leave with a profound emptiness, a distinct and utter hole that I had not recognized when I came to this place six years ago.

Even so, it was meant to be discovered now—not a moment sooner. It was meant to be discovered at this moment, at this very moment in time. No sooner, no later.

The profundities I speak now and have spoken before, the drama of my heart and mind do nothing for my own ego; they should not. I don't write for my own sake, for my own ego—though at times I feel I do. I do not create to necessarily extend my own posterity. And this is where I take some issue with a particular day being "my own" or some writing "my own creation." No, it is not mine alone though it is created within my own free will and effort and hand. There is something more beyond this present reality. There is a reality beneath it, a much more sublime and profound reality.

To borrow and transpose in a personal analogous way from Albert Einstein's General Theory of Relativity, my actions and resulting effects—the accomplishments—are the effects on the time-space fabric. There is only so much that we can do, say, and be there for in this world at the present moment. Even more fleeting are the thinking moments we have, the recollections and preponderances of the future ahead. This limitation has its place as well, for it would be ill-conceived to hope that the analogous "gravitational" effects of the largess of the given "mass" of the moment, so to speak again in a borrowed conceptual model, would overpower the present reality. If that were accomplished, we'd go skipping off into oblivion. There are set tracks for good reason. Anti-matter isn't necessarily a good thing, is it? And so we are presented with a set amount of resources of mind, body, and spirit. What do we do with these talents?

Those who reject the faith component of life may not so easily recognize this jump in conceptual understanding of the universe. And to me there is a great deal of sadness to this reality. The metaphysical reality, as it were, cannot be explained away as fanciful, wishful thinking. There is something more to this, much more. And if it weren't, we'd only be "guilty" of thinking so highly upon our own feeble intellects, so much so to "invent" a compassionate, personal God. However, it is here at this very intersection of faith and reason that I see the most logic. The construct's open world nature gives the best conceptual mapping between mental reality and physical reality. There is an unknown variable that is missing in the closed world set, which is of the utmost importance.

It could be true; it could not be true. It is unknown. The closed world assumption considers it false until proven true. While this understanding is good in the case of court proceedings ("innocent until proven guilty"), it does not bode well for the area of science—an interconnected area of theories to be proven and disproven. There is a web of connectedness between human judicial law, scientific theories and law, and Divine law at its very basics. There are many specifics of faith that are improvable to reason's standard. Most of these questions fall under the subject line of "Why did it happen this way?" These shouldn't be ignored in one's personal journey and search for Truth, but it shouldn't be a stumbling block for discovery of true wisdom and not just merely human knowledge. The divine fingerprints are there.

The complexities of our physical reality, the depth to the specific creation—beautiful, beastly, and befuddling at differing situations—make for a difficult case to dissuade the religious, spiritual person of the Truth found in the Creator God. It is there, real or imagined. Each person goes through their own mental wanderings as we are disposed to at our given intellectual level. And even so, this doesn't preclude other levels of understanding, knowledge, or communication just because it isn't present. The theoretical of science—wormholes and the like speak to another dimension described in physics, or rather alluded to. The allusion is key here. The open world possibility is there.

Simply because the reality that was there all along cannot be described in concrete terms at this moment does not exclude that Truth in reality to even exist. The existence of the underlying truth is always there no matter if it is never discovered by human minds. As an example consider the possibility that the "New World" was never discovered by the Europeans or vice versa, would the New World ever be in existence? Yes, it existed so long as it was set in the first place. Our knowledge of something doesn't create it; it's the primordial existence of the given reality that gives its basis for being Truth.

And so I enter into the search for the fingerprints of the Divine, and I see them all over. The daily small miracles of the ordinary—He is there. In the passing of life into death—He is there. In both sadness and joy—He is there. In times of failure and in times of success—He is there.

To borrow a phrase from John Paul II and his poems, these are "thoughts in strange space."

If this Creator, this "force" that created all things and is above all time only set the world in its course, wound its clock gears so to speak, and set it on its ways with the natural laws then would this universe lose part of its deeper meaning? Would we not reject a reality of the universe that there something greater than our own reality, our own very existence? These thoughts we have must begin from somewhere. They do not just come to existence out of strange space. They must have a beginning. As a result, René Descartes seemingly flips a working reality when he states: "I think, therefore I am." It should read, "I am, therefore I (can) think." And how did we get the ability to even possess philosophical thought or any given thought at all? We don't necessarily exist because we think; we are more than mere mental islands in a large sea. We affect every existence in such a way that our thoughts cannot fully grasp it. Such is the case with the well-known "butterfly effect" regarding the chaos theory.

The Deistic "clock-winder" God only goes so far. The framework of not just a personal God but an intensely personal God is there. The lines of communication, though not physically visible, present themselves in a sacramental way that is not merely a spiritual reality. This jump of conceptual understanding bridges the chasm of understanding between the physical and the spiritual. However, we must be properly prepared in body, mind, and spirit to accept an ever-present intensely personal gift of the Divine. And it is here that we so often fall short of the ideal, our preparedness for the Gift. And yet, those of faith tend to dismiss in the same closed-world fallacy of the scientific humbugs. We turn ourselves intensely inward away from the Unknown. It does not affect change, merely stagnation.

Even so, the Gift is not taken away. We have the free will to accept or deny what is given. And He remains there to help us back out of the dust to reach His love. For the gift is love. The gift is Himself.

It is here that I find great joy even in sorrow of failure. He is there to pick up the fallen. He is there to take back His spouse even in infidelity. He knows us intensely, in every manner and way we go and in every time we succeed and fail. We must accept our frailty and His strength. If not, we reject His sacrifice for us. We reject His love for us.

Paradoxically we must let Him love us. We must let the Infinite bow to the finite. We, the finite, are given the opportunity to accept the Infinite or reject it. And this suitor will not be outdone. He intensely wants us, all of us completely. However, He does not want us out of fear. So often do we act out of fear. No, He wants us to choose Him out of love. And so the Infinite waits on the finite, and the simple reality that the Infinite can wait out the finite is reiterated. His grace is not finite.

So what must we do? Turn to him. That's all. Turn to Him not to avoid the disappointments in the world but to strengthen your gifts from the Divine in the face of the difficulties of the moment. And by passing the difficulties of the given moment, you can and do achieve what is infinite—the love of the Divine. The finite finds that its true limits are the infinite—everlasting life.

And this is where I am, warts and all, before Him. Disposed enough to see glimmers of the fullness of His love, I stand in awe. I stand in awe that He would even shower me with the least amount of water, that saving water. I stand in awe that He would water this unkempt garden that I can become so quickly. Still He waters the weed-filled garden, and yet the Gardener comes. He comes to prune what is dead and pull the weeds that choke His word that is sown.

And still the image of the faithful spouse comes to mind now. He is the faithful spouse, and I the unworthy one taken back. He is teaching me, though I am at times intractable. Even though I futilely fight His love in the passing moments of failure, He keeps coming back to the threshold of my heart and pouring deep within a wellspring of His love.

Deep within He pours a creative spirit that renews, nourishes, and regenerates a dead soul. He accepts the faults of the heart, the wounds of the past to transform what was once lost apart from Him. In this we all become one with Him if we let Him do His will within us and within the world around us.

We are in this world but not wholly of this world. We must remember the depth of the time-space of both faith and reason within our lives. We must keep close to our hearts the Spouse who comes back to us, even though we run from Him.

Turn to Him; see the freedom in this understanding. He is there with an outstretched hand, not a condescending wag of a finger. He has no need of lording our failures over us but only our acceptance of His will in our lives—to be transformed to be instruments and co-authors in His love through His creation and to join Him when our work here is done.

What joy is found in reflecting on these thoughts in strange space. What joy in the face of a hole that remains unfilled still. Some day I will let Him fill it; some day He will choose to fill it, not a moment too soon or too late. I await that time with a continuingly joyful heart.