Our home has a Christ room. The room is simple, outfitted with an enormous depiction of Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son,” and remains intentionally open for short-term stays of all kinds. We have hosted family members and friends (and friends of friends), kindred community-cultivators, monks and nuns, refugees, respite-seekers and people yearning for imaginative…
You, the Holy, beckon but are just out of reach. Your light calls and continues beckoning. Are you still there? Sounds of silent screams fill the space where there is no light within me — tugging at my heart, filling voids in my heart with lies. Sunrays begin to stream in, beckoning, inspiring, lingering, loitering…
There is nothing everyone is so afraid of as of being told how vastly much he is capable of. You are capable of – do you want to know? – you are capable of living in poverty; you are capable of standing almost any kind of maltreatment, abuse, etc. But you do not wish to…
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