OF YOU MY HEART HAS SPOKEN

A lonely place, this is A lonely place A place of Hunger Anxiety Unsettlement The sadness of loss The yearning for a belonging That only exists in the womb Every conceivable form Of suffering And they would send us away To other places in search of All that we lack There is no need to go Says the Master Come to Me Surrender to me The little you have Remain with Me And eat with me The loaves and fishes Of My abundance Come Let your hunger Be satisfied Listen Let your thirst Be quenched Live Let your sorrow Be consoled

  Oh my Lord I am here again In the muddied boots Of my soul Having stumbled and fallen Through mire and dark I am embarrassed And yet In your great lenience You bring me To Your Sanctuary Stable of shepherds  Clothing me once more In the robes of Your own White brightness Without removing These boots

  "... a lonely place... this is a lonely place" (Matthew 14) I went to visit my cousin Johnny in hospital late last year. His regret was that he had forgotten to bring his Rosary beads with him. They were as familiar to his hands as the mobile phone is to mine. I gave him my beads and we prayed the Rosary together. Anyone who ever visited his house would understand that at least a decade of the Rosary would be said before they left. It was as natural to him as a cup of tea. Unashamed. Unpretentious.  The Rosary and the Mass were pillars of his life. Nothing could separate him from them. As in the words of St. Paul in  Romans 8: " Nothing can come between us and the love of Christ, even if we are troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked. These are the trials through which we triumph, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life, no angel, no prince, nothing that exists...