Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on read more

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on morning wings Of majesty, but I have set My Feet Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. There do I dwell, in weakness and in power; Not broken or divided, saith our God! In your strait garden plot I come to flowers About your porch My Vine, Meek, fruitful, doth entwine; Waits, at the threshold, Love's appointed hour. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Yea! on the glancing wings Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet Your hear and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes That peep from out the brake, I stand confest. On every nest Where feathery Patience is content to brood And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize Of motherhood -- There doth My Godhead rest. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: My starry wings I do forsake, Love's highway of humility to take: Meekly I fit my stature to your need. In beggar's part About your gates I shall not cease to plead -- As man, to speak with man -- Till by such art I shall achieve My Immemorial Plan, Pass the low lintel of the human heart.

Deep unto deep, O Lord, Crieth in me, Gathering strength I come, Lord, unto Thee. Jesus of read more

Deep unto deep, O Lord, Crieth in me, Gathering strength I come, Lord, unto Thee. Jesus of Calvary, Smitten for me, Ask what Thou wilt, but give Love to me.

He that asks me what heaven is, means not to hear me, but to silence me; He knows I cannot read more

He that asks me what heaven is, means not to hear me, but to silence me; He knows I cannot tell him. When I meet him there, I shall be able to tell him, and then he will be as able to tell me; yet then we shall be but able to tell one another. This, this that we enjoy is heaven, but the tongues of Angels, the tongues of glorified Saints, shall not be able to express what that heaven is; for, even in heaven our faculties shall be finite.

Commemoration of Richard Rolle of Hampole, Writer, Hermit, Mystic, 1349 Lord Jesu, I ask Thee, give unto me read more

Commemoration of Richard Rolle of Hampole, Writer, Hermit, Mystic, 1349 Lord Jesu, I ask Thee, give unto me movement in Thy love without measure; desire without limit; longing without order; burning without discretion. Truly the better the love of Thee is, the greedier it is; for neither by reason is it restrained, nor be dread thronged, nor by doom tempted.

Such is our dependence upon God that we are obliged not only to do everything for His sake, but also read more

Such is our dependence upon God that we are obliged not only to do everything for His sake, but also to seek from Him the very power. This happy necessity of having recourse to Him in all our wants, instead of being grievous to us, should be our greatest consolation. What a happiness is it that we are allowed to speak to Him with confidence; to open our hearts and hold familiar conversation with him, by prayer! He Himself invites us to it.

Feast of Aelred of Hexham, Abbot of Rievaulx, 1167 Commemoration of Benedict Biscop, Abbot of Wearmouth, Scholar, 689 read more

Feast of Aelred of Hexham, Abbot of Rievaulx, 1167 Commemoration of Benedict Biscop, Abbot of Wearmouth, Scholar, 689 Pain is a kindly, hopeful thing, a certain proof of life, a clear assurance that all is not yet over, that there is still a chance. But if your heart has no pain -- well, that may betoken health, as you suppose: but are you certain that it does not mean that your soul is dead?

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

Feast of Cyril & Methodius, Missionaries to the Slavs, 869 & 885 Commemoration of Valentine, Martyr at Rome, c.269 read more

Feast of Cyril & Methodius, Missionaries to the Slavs, 869 & 885 Commemoration of Valentine, Martyr at Rome, c.269 The offertory is the first essential action of the Liturgy, because in it we make the costly and solemn oblation, under tokens, of our very selves and all our substance, that they may be transformed, quickened, and devoted to the interests of God.

Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: The primary object of prayer is to know God better; we and our read more

Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: The primary object of prayer is to know God better; we and our needs should come second. ... The Notebooks of Florence Allshorn March 16, 2000 Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: I have called my material surroundings a stage set. In this I can act. And you may well say "act". For what I call "myself" (for all practical, everyday purposes) is also a dramatic construction; memories, glimpses in the shavinglass, and snatches of the very fallible activity called "introspection", are the principal ingredients. Normally I call this construction "me"' and the stage set "the real world". Now the moment of prayer is for me -- or involves for me as its condition -- the awareness, the reawakened awareness, that this "real world" and "real self" are very far from being rock-bottom realities. I cannot, in the flesh, leave the stage, either to go behind the scenes or to take my seat in the pit; but I can remember that these regions exist. And I also remember that my apparent self -- this clown or hero or super -- under his grease-paint is a real person with an off-stage life. The dramatic person could not tread the stage unless he concealed a real person: unless the real and unknown I existed, I would not even make mistakes about the imagined me. And in prayer this real I struggles to speak, for once, from his real being, and to address, for once, not the other actors, but -- what shall I call Him? The Author, for He invented us all? The Producer, for He controls all? Or the Audience, for He watches, and will judge, the performance?