Christ knows the depths of the human heart, and despite all the wretchedness it can harbor, he always sees its capacity for good. ‘Jesus’ look penetrates the veils of human passions and reaches the depths of the human heart, where one is alone, poor, and naked’ (Karl Adam). He understands and encourages us to continue struggling. His loving look sees our immense possibilities for good and also the weaknesses that are so often a reality in our lives. Christ knows what is within man. ‘He alone knows it!’ (St. John Paul II) And nevertheless he asks us to follow him: ‘Come, follow me’ (Mt 4.19). . . .
The spiritual life of any saint is the story of God’s love. This love impels forward every effort towards sanctity and lies at the very heart of all spiritual accompaniment. At times some people, if they have not been fully faithful to our God, may think he is upset and angry with them, and the devil makes use of this falsehood to distance them from God when their need is greatest to draw close to him. It is then that they need to recall with special force the parables of divine mercy: the prodigal son, the lost sheep, and the lost coin that brings joy when found.
We often need to remind souls that every moment is appropriate for beginning again with trust. Our Lord does not want anyone to be cast down by the negative experience of past weaknesses and sins. (Francis Fernandez-Carvajal)
Something to remember today on 9/11:
“Contrary to the predisposition to believe more easily in evil than in good, Mary bore witness to the truth that God is the good Father in whom each one can put his trust.” (Simone Trois & Christiana Paccini from Chiara Corbella Petrillo, A Witness to Joy)
“Anxiety and depression have been God’s way of reminding me that I don’t have to be awesome.”
If that strikes some kind of chord with you, then you should read this: “When you find hidden graces in the dark places”. Made my day anyway.
Another wonderful gem from Ann Voskamp: How You Can Keep On Hoping for What Seems Impossible
Never got over this…
So if you turned right after Clappison’s Corner and drove real slow around the potholes, you might see it?
Sneeze or blink, and yeah, you might not.
But it’s there on the top of a mossy stake, pointing the way you gotta take, either way: Hope.
You don’t want to know where all the other roads lead.
Just down the road from Centerton, thats’s where my Dad grew up on a dairy farm.
Right around the corner from the Dykstra’s* dairy farm. Hank Dykstra had seven kids and a heart attack. Fell over dead to this world and alive to the next when their oldest boy, Richard, was only 14.Sometimes people are so quiet and brave, we forget that they are suffering.
Sometimes people are so quiet and brave, we forget that they are suffering.
My Dad and Richard Dysktra were both farm boys about to start high school when Richard took over the farm and helped his mom raise the six other kids and milk 40 Holstein cows morning and night, 365 days of the year.
Dad said the high school bus would wait at the end of the lane for Richard and Dad would watch the door of the barn to see if Richard was coming from his cows to class. That only happened less than a handful times a month.
Because sometimes the road you’re on is more important than the bus waiting out on the road that someone else says you have to take.
My Dad grew up milking cows and growing corn, got married at 24, and bought a farm 3 hours west of Centerton.
Richard Dyskstra grew up milking cows, raised up his 4 brothers and 2 sisters, got married at 37, and bought a farm 3 hours east of Centerton.
6 long hours of unwinding road now stretched between the two neighbour farm boys and their farms.
You can read the rest here.