Soul of Christ

  • Chapter Eight (Part Two)—In The Light Of God’s Word by Marie Paul Curley
    From Soul of Christ But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came.  So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.”  But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” (John 20:24-25) Theme for Holy Hour: Contemplating the Healing Wounds of Christ A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with [...]
Newly added

EARTH: Prayers Like Incense by Francine Rivers

From: Earth Psalms When the Lamb took the scroll, the four living beings and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb.  Each one had a harp, and they held gold bowls filled with incense, which are the prayers of God’s people. (Revelation 5:8) One Sunday in June, after church services, I [...]

Earth Psalms

  • Seeking Security by Francine Rivers
    From: Earth Psalms You can go to bed without fear; you will lie down and sleep soundly. You need not be afraid of sudden disaster or the destruction that comes upon the wicked, for the Lord is your security. He will keep your foot from being caught in a trap. (Proverbs 3:24-26) A squirrel comes by every now and then. One morning he turned up his [...]

Heaven on Earth

  • God’s Royal Contract With Abraham by R. Alan Streett
    From: Heaven on Earth In Genesis 15 and 17 God reestablishes his covenant with Abram and reiterates his promises, explaining them in greater detail.  For instance, God gives the geographical dimensions of the promised land, which Abram’s offspring will inherit. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I [...]

My Brilliant Abyss

  • From a Window by Christian Wiman
    From My Bright Abyss From a Window Incurable and unbelieving in any truth but the truth of grieving, I saw a tree inside a tree rise kaleidoscopically as if the leaves had livelier ghosts. I pressed my face as close to the pane as I could get to watch that fitful, fluent spirit that seemed a single being undefined or countless beings of one mind [...]

All Things New

  • What Does Restoration Look Like? by John Eldredge
    From All Things New Jesus Christ is the forerunner for the Great Renewal, “the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead,” (Colossians 1:18).  He died, as everyone has and will.  But on the third day he was raised to life, leaving his grave clothes folded neatly in the tomb.  (A very touching detail, I might add, as if to say, “And that’s that,” like a [...]

The Earth

  • The Nature Of Dirt by Julia Marks
    It’s funny how the length of time that I have been studying God (62 years) has shaped my mind.  Like water shapes the stone as it runs through the canyon.  A new way, I guess you could say. So as I type up these writings about dirt and soil, on cleanliness, on health, my mind drifts into its own paths of knowledge. And, for me, the concept of dirt really belongs inside our bodies, so to [...]

Holy Spirit

The Rosary


  • Psalm 135 by W. Robert Godfrey
    From Learning to Love the Psalms Psalm 135 is the first in a group of three psalms that primarily focus on the enemies of God’s people.  Still, Psalm 135 is an appropriate psalm to follow the songs of ascents.  The pilgrim journey to Jerusalem culminated in the call of Psalm 134:2: “Lift up your hands to the holy [...]


  • Holy Dirt by Diana Butler Bass
    From Grounded  On a cool and unusually cloudy day in New Mexico, I drove out of Albuquerque some seventy miles north to the tiny town of Chimayo, known primarily for two things: chilies and a church.  Although this may seem an odd combination, it really is not.  The chilies and the church both depend on the area’s unusually fertile soil, a gift of the sands and springs of the Sangre de [...]

Nature writing

  • Roses by Diane Ackerman
    From A Natural History of the Senses  I am holding a lavender rose called “Angel Face,” one of the twenty-five rosebushes planted around my house.  For the first few years, the deer that frequent my yard would steal in at dawn and eat all the buds and succulent new growth.  Once they ate the bushes right down to the dirt, leaving only small knobs that looked like the velvet of incipient antlers.  I am used to embezzlers in the garden.  The first summer of grape arbor, I watched two [...]

Contemporary Christian poets

  • Evening Prayer Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Evening Prayer by Scott Cairns

    And what would you pray in the troubled midst of this our circular confusion save that the cup be taken away? That the chill and welling of the blood might suffer by His hushed mercy to abate, to calm the legion dumb anxieties as each now clamors to be known and named? The road has taken on, of late, the mute appearance of a grief whose leaden gravity both insists on speed and slows the pilgrim’s progress to a crawl. At least he’s found his knees. I bear a dim suspicion that this [...]
  • Look It Over by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Look It Over by Wendell Berry

    I leave behind even my walking stick. My knife is in my pocket, but that I have forgot. I bring no car, no cell phone, no computer, no camera, no CD player, no fax, no TV, not even a book. I go into the woods. I sit on a log provided at no cost. It is the earth I’ve come to, the earth itself, sadly abused by the stupidity only humans are capable of but, as ever, itself. Free. A bargain! Get it while it [...]
  • St. Peter and the Angel by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: St. Peter and the Angel by Denise Levertov

    Delivered out of raw continual pain, smell of darkness, groans of those others to whom he was chained— unchained, and led past the sleepers, door after door silently opening— out! And along a long street’s majestic emptiness under the moon: one hand on the angel’s shoulder, one feeling the air before him, eyes open but fixed . . . . And not till he saw the angel had left him, alone and free to resume the ecstatic, dangerous, wearisome roads of what he had still to do, not till then did [...]
  • A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    I suppose we might do away with words like sin. They are at least archaic, not to mention rude, and late generations have been pretty well-schooled against the presumption of holding anything to be absolutely so, universally applicable, especially anything like sin which is, to put it more neatly, unpleasant, not the sort of thing one brings up. Besides, so much of what ignorance may have once attributed to sin has been more justly shown to be the end result of bad information, genetic flaw, [...]
  • A Homecoming Wendell Berry

    POETRY: A Homecoming by Wendell Berry

    One faith is bondage. Two are free. In the trust of old love, cultivation shows a dark and graceful wilderness at its heart. Wild in that wilderness, we roam the distance of our faith; safe beyond the bounds of what we know. O love, open. Show me my country. Take me [...]
  • From A Woman's Life by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: From A Woman’s Life by Maura Eichner

    What Mary knew was just enough for the usual day; pull water, flint fire, bake bread, smile, pray the dark orations, sleep, wake wait. When pain hones a nerve, when birth or dying clotted an hour, she leaned to the curve of living, resilient to fear, laughter, suffering. Partings are a little death. Each one’s journey is a thing wholly without precedent. She looked at the sky for compass. None. She, too, created a road to travel [...]
  • On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    If you’ve ever owned a tortoise, you know how terribly difficult paper training can be for some pets. Even if you get so far as to instill in your tortoise the value of achieving the paper, there remains one obstacle— your tortoise’s intrinsic sloth. Even a well-intentioned tortoise may find himself in his journeys to be painfully far from the mark. Failing, your tortoise may shy away for weeks within his shell, utterly ashamed, or, looking up with tiny, wet eyes, might offer an [...]
  • The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    Lucifer blazing in superb effigies Among the world’s ambitious tragedies, Heaven-sent gift to the dark ages, Now, in the finest-possible light, We approach you; can estimate Your not unnatural height. Though the discrete progeny, Out of their swim, go deflated and dry, We know the feel of you, archaic beauty, Between the tombs, where the tombs still extrude, Overshadowing the sun-struck world: (The shadow-god envisaged in no [...]
  • Litany by David Craig

    POETRY: Litany by David Craig

    Mother of Sorrow, Mother of stars and night fires, arroyos, tossed tequila bottles, the dead drunk. Mother of the streets, of the violent, weekend golfers, cut off, and a windshield smashed with bare fists; the knife, the absurdity, the day in court. Mother of amphetamines, the aging speed freak, who looks to kick around an oval track in a beat up stock car. Mother of the subways, the swaying lost. Mother of day laborers, children, early mornings, in the fields. Mother of Guatemala, of empty [...]
  • The Fountain by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Fountain by Denise Levertov

    Don’t say, don’t say there is no water to solace the dryness at our hearts I have seen the fountain springing out of the rock wall and you drinking there. And I too before your eyes found footholds and climbed to drink the cool water. The woman of that place, shading her eyes, frowned as she watched—but not because she grudged the water, only because she was waiting to see we drank our fill and were refreshed. Don’t say, don’t say there is no water. That fountain is there among its [...]
  • Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Imagist At Coney Island by Maura Eichner

    One decade into the 20th century, Pound, with his back to Brooklyn, pointed his beard to the Atlantic. Simply to receive the kingdom, Ezra linked arms with John Butler Yeats. Their shoes filled with sand. Pleasure rode the water, solid as Staten Island Ferry. At dusk, lights rose like a fever chart. Coney Island “marvelous against the night.” In the amusement park Yeats rode an elephant on the merry-go-round, “smiling Elijah in the beatific vision.” Pound leaned against a railing [...]
  • My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    I confess that I am not a modern man. As a modern man I am a little flawed. Raimundo is much too happy. Many times, more times than I would care to admit to you, I have suffered from this unforgivable lack, this absence. All around me, poets tearing at their bright blouses, tearing at their own bare flesh. All night long—their tortured singing. And still I have suffered an acute lack of despair. Why is that? Is Raimundo stupid? Am I unfeeling? Doesn’t the bleak weight of the north ever [...]
  • Apple Fools by David Craig

    POETRY: Apple Fools by David Craig

    Apple fools we are Ripe as cups of cider and the horse’s clodded wake let the wet mornings come ring out green beans beneath the leaves pumpkin piping on the vine Speckled corn aloft Indian feathered high on the door Squash squats on the rafters pot belly bent legged Buddha stove boots and coveralls Give us this grace and all this day the crowded table the pinions’ [...]
  • The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    The end of the world occurs with the first thaw. Waking from his first restful night in many months—a night without shivering, without cramp- ing muscles—the last man lifts his head from the straw, hears snow-melt trickling, sees morning light through the window’s ice, smells the scent of earth, lies back, and dies because he cannot bear to go through it all again. But that is a very limited view of the event. The end was more than the final exhaustion of the last man. Actually, some [...]
  • foxes

    POETRY: Some Further Words by Wendell Berry

    Let me be plain with you, dear reader. I am an old-fashioned man. I like the world of nature despite its mortal dangers. I like the domestic world of humans, so long as it pays its debts to the natural world, and keeps its bounds. I like the promise of Heaven. My purpose is a language that can pay just thanks and honor for those gifts, a tongue set free from fashionable lies. Neither this world nor any of its places is an “environment.” And a house for sale is not a [...]
  • The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Chimes Of Neverwhere by Les Murray

    How many times did the Church prevent war? Who knows? Those wars did not occur. How many numbers don’t count before ten? Treasures of the Devil in Neverwhere. The neither state of Neverwhere is hard to place as near or far since all things that didn’t take place are there and things that have lost the place they took: Herr Hitler’s buildings, King James’s cigar, the happiness of Armenia, the Abelard children, the Manchu’s return are there with the Pictish Grammar Book. The girl who [...]
  • The Peace Of Wild Things Wendell Berry

    POETRY: The Peace Of Wild Things, by Wendell Berry

    When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am [...]
  • Sabbaths 2005 Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Sabbaths 2005, by Wendell Berry

    I. I know that I have life only insofar as I have love. I have no love except it come from Thee. Help me, please, to carry this candle against the wind. II. They gather like an ancestry in the centuries behind us: the killed by violence, the dead in war, the “acceptable losses” — killed by custom in self-defense, by way of correction, as revenge, for love of God, for the glory of the world, for peace; killed for pride, lust, envy, anger, covetousness, gluttony, sloth, and fun. The [...]
  • POETRY: Idiot Psalm 10 Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Idiot Psalm 10, by Scott Cairns

    —a psalm of Isaak, breathed beneath the chirp of evening swallows O Hidden Hand upholding all wrought works now flourishing before us, O Mad Architect of exuberant abundance, of flora both sweet and acrid, and lo, of all furred fauna frolicking the field, both the mild and the less so, baring tooth and claw and, lo, so often leaving in their wake so many tufts of plumage, tattered fur. O Great Zookeeper attending all such critters in Your ken, both microscopic and immense, the countless [...]
  • Julian of Norwich author

    POETRY: On A Theme From Julian’s Chapter XX by Denise Levertov

    Six hours outstretched in the sun, yes, hot wood, the nails, blood trickling into the eyes, yes— but the thieves on their neighbor crosses survived till after the soldiers had come to fracture their legs, or longer. Why single out the agony? What’s a mere six hours? Torture then, torture now, the same, the pain’s the same, immemorial branding iron, electric prod. Hasn’t a child dazed in the hospital ward they reserve for the most abused, known worse? The air we’re [...]
  • POETRY: Saint Clare by Louise Erdrich

    POETRY: Saint Clare by Louise Erdrich

    The Call First I heard the voice throbbing across the river. I saw the white phosphorescence of his robe. As he stepped from the boat, as he walked there spread from each footfall a black ripple, from each widening ring a wave, from the waves a sea that covered the moon. So I was seized in total night and I abandoned myself in his garment like a fish in a net. The slip knots tightened on me and I rolled until the sudden cry hauled me out. Then this new element, a furnace of mirrors, in which I [...]
  • Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the merciful dead, the prophets, the innocents just His own age and those unnumbered others waiting here unaware, in an endless void He is ending now, stooping to tug at their hands, to pull them from their sarcophagi, dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas, neighbor in death, Golgotha dust still streaked on the dried sweat of his body no one had washed and anointed, is here, for [...]
  • communion of the body

    POETRY: Disciplinary Treatises—(4) The Communion of the Body by Scott Cairns

    The Christ in his own heart is weaker than the Christ in the word of his brother. (Bonhoeffer) Scattered, petulant, argumentative, the diverse members generally find little, nothing of their own, to offer one another. Like us all, the saved need saving mostly from themselves, and so they make progress, if at all, by dying to what they can, acquiescing to this new pressure, new wind, new breath that would fill them with something better than their own good intentions. Or schemes of community. Or [...]
  • Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    POETRY: Fire And St. Francis by Andrew Hudgins

    1. As he sat eating by the fire one night a spark was lifted on a wisp of air and set on the folds of cloth that wrapped his groin. But when he felt the heat so near his flesh he wouldn’t raise his hands against the fire or let his worried friends extinguish it. You mustn’t harm the flames or spoil their play, he said to them. Don’t these bright creatures have as much a right as I to be happy? For seconds his disciples stared as the flames climbed up the cloth and nearer to his skin. And [...]
  • The Slip by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: The Slip by Wendell Berry

    The river takes the land, and leaves nothing. Where the great slip gave way in the bank and an acre disappeared, all human plans dissolve. An aweful clarification occurs where a place was. Its memory breaks from what is known now, and begins to drift. Where cattle grazed and trees stood, emptiness widens the air for birdflight, wind, and rain. As before the beginning, nothing is there. Human wrong is in the cause, human ruin in the effect—but no matter; all will be lost, no matter the reason. [...]
  • Another Song by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Another Song by Scott Cairns

    Most mornings I wake up slowly. That’s just the way I am. I wake up slow as I can, listening first to one thing, then another. The milk bottles chiming just outside the door, then the milktruck idling in the street. If I’m lucky, the girl through the wall will be singing and I’ll hear her next, singing while she dresses. Maybe she’s brushing her hair, or tying the ribbon for her stocking —that would be nice. And out in the hall, some man will probably kiss Miss Weitz [...]
  • Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    Our Christmas tree is not electrified, is not covered with little lights calling attention to themselves (we have had enough of little lights calling attention to themselves). Our tree is a cedar cut here, one of the fragrances of our place, hung with painted cones and paper stars folded long ago to praise our tree, Christ come into the [...]
  • Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    Why do you stand looking up at the skies? (Acts 1:11) It wasn’t just wind, chasing thin gunmetal clouds across the loud sky; it wasn’t the feeling that one might ascend on that excited air, rising like a trumpet note. And it wasn’t just my sister’s water breaking, her crying out, the downward draw of blood and bone…. It was all of that, the mud and new grass pushing up through melting snow, the lilac in bud by my front door, bent low by last week’s ice storm. Now the new mother, [...]
  • What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight [...]
  • Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    POETRY: Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    He heard the bell toll, erratic in a palsied hand, and smelled the goatish scent before he saw the figure moving in mist on the road to Assisi, a traveler gloved and shod, as was the law, to hide the sores, a man’s inhumanity, missing fingers and toes, and tried to unmask the face, slack muscles showing nothing but astonishment, lower lids keeping eyes open always to our providential decay, flesh soft and thick as rotten wood. Francis saw in bleary eyes, near to him as his mother’s [...]
  • Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    Not the moon. A flower on the other side of the water. The water sweeps past in flood, dragging a whole tree by the hair, a barn, a bridge. The flower sings on the far bank. Not a flower, a bird calling hidden among the darkest trees, music over the water, making a silence out of the brown folds of the river’s cloak. The moon. No, a young man walking under the trees. There are lanterns among the leaves. Tender, wise, merry, his face is awake with its own light, I see it across the water [...]
  • Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    We were trying to put the roots back, wild and erratic straying root-limbs, trying to fit them into the hole that was cleancut in clay, deep but not wide enough; or wide but too square—trying to get the roots back into earth before they dried out and died. Ineptly we pulled and pushed striving to encompass so many rivers of wood and fiber in one confinement without snapping the arteries of sap, the force of life springing in them that made them spring away from our hands— we knew our own [...]
  • A Warning To My Readers by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: A Warning To My Readers by Wendell Berry

    Do not think me gentle because I speak in praise of gentleness, or elegant because I honor the grace that keeps this world. I am a man crude as any, gross of speech, intolerant, stubborn, angry, full of fits and furies. That I may have spoken well at times, is not natural. A wonder is what it [...]
  • POETRY: Setting Out by Scott Cairns

    Pilgrim: What is it that you do here? Monk: We fall, and we get up again. In time, even the slowest pilgrim might articulate a turn. Given time enough, the slowest pilgrim—even he—might register some small measure of belated progress. The road was, more or less, less compelling than the hut, but as the benefit of time allowed the hut’s distractions to attain a vaguely musty scent, and all the novel knickknacks to acquire a fine veneer of bone- white dust, the road became then somewhat [...]
  • In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    When snow like sheep lay in the fold And winds went begging at each door, And the far hills were blue with cold, And a cold shroud lay on the moor, She kept the siege. And every day We watched her brooking over death Like a strong bird above its prey. The room filled with the kettle’s breath. Damp curtains glued against the pane Sealed time away. Her body froze As if to freeze us all, and chain Creation to a stunned repose. She died before the world could stir. In March the ice unloosed [...]
  • A Purification by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: A Purification by Wendell Berry

    At start of spring I open a trench in the ground. I put into it the winter’s accumulation of paper, pages I do not want to read again, useless words, fragments, errors. And I put into it the contents of the outhouse: light of the sun, growth of the ground, finished with one of their journeys. To the sky, to the wind, then, and to the faithful trees, I confess my sins: that I have not been happy enough, considering my good luck; have listened to too much noise; have been inattentive to [...]
  • Luke 14, a Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Luke 14, A Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    So he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noted how they chose the best places, saying to them: “When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him; and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may [...]
  • Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    POETRY: Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    After the sun’s eclipse, The brighter angel and the spear which drew A bridal outcry from her open lips, She could not prove it true, Nor think at first of any means to test By what she had been wedded or possessed. Not all cries were the same; there was an island in mythology Called by the very vowels of her name Where vagrants of the sea, Changed by a wand, were made to squeal and cry As heavy captives in a witch’s sty. The proof came soon and plain: Visions were true which [...]
  • Tickets For A Prayer Wheel by Annie Dillard

    POETRY: Tickets For A Prayer Wheel by Annie Dillard

    A son, a scholar, speaks: Our family is looking for someone who knows how to pray. Ora pro nobis, pray for us now and now. We sent all our strong cousins out as runners. . . . One of the cousins brought back a doll which he had purchased at great price. The doll is dressed in feathers and beads of mistletoe. His head, according to our cousin, is stuffed with millet seed; on each seed is written, in a tongue foreign to us, “PRAY.” We are uncertain whether to shake the doll like a [...]
  • Lachrimae Amantis by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Lachrimae Amantis by Geoffrey Hill

    (Note: lachrimae amantis means tears of the lover in Latin) What is there in my heart that you should sue so fiercely for its love? What kind of care brings you as though a stranger to my door through the long night and in the icy dew seeking the heart that will not harbor you, that keeps itself religiously secure? At this dark solstice filled with frost and fire your passion’s ancient wounds must bleed anew. So many nights the angel of my house has fed such urgent comfort through a [...]

Jane Hirshfield


  • One Who Paid Attention—Simone Weil On A Postage Stamp by Leighton Ford
    From The Attentive Life Expectant waiting is the foundation of the spiritual life. (Simone Weil) I owe a debt to Simone Weil.  The first time I heard of this remarkable French woman, some years ago, I read that she had defined prayer as attention.  Her understanding of attentiveness was fresh and intriguing to me. Weil died in England in 1943 at the age of thirty-three, yet left an ongoing influence in France and beyond as an apostle of the spiritual life.  Many French people, including the [...]

The Peaceable Kingdom

  • The Person Of The Spirit—The New Testament Evidence (Paul) by Stanley Hauerwas
    From The Peaceable Kingdom To answer that question we must turn to the New Testament to see if it will really allow such an abbreviation in our doctrine of God.  Will we be able to say what the revelation of God, to which the New Testament bears witness, requires us to say about Christ and the Spirit, if we regard the Spirit simply as a mode of activity of Jesus? At the outset we need to recognize that these are not questions that the New Testament authors were themselves concerned about, so [...]

Prayers for special graces

  • A Prayer For Contentment
    From The Whole Duty of Man  O merciful God, thy wisdom is infinite to choose, and thy love forward to dispense good things to us: O let me always fully and entirely resign myself to thy disposal, have no desires of my own, but a perfect satisfaction in thy choice for me; that so, in whatsoever state I am, I may be therein content. Lord, grant that I may never look with murmuring on my own [...]

A Quote From Thomas Merton

Today I am in a quiet, cool spot, in the shade of cottonwoods, short green grass, the red mesa to the right, forest in front, big vast mesa (Mesa del Viejo) behind. A profusion of yellow: flowering shrubs, sweet smell of sage brush, the gentle contemplative song of crickets. A beautiful autumn!

Psalm 135

135: Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the name of the Lord; praise him, O ye servants of the Lord.


2 Ye that stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of our God.


3 Praise the Lord; for the Lord is good: sing praises unto his name; for it is pleasant.


4 For the Lord hath chosen Jacob unto himself, and Israel for his peculiar treasure.


5 For I know that the Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods.


6 Whatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in Heaven, and in Earth, in the seas, and all deep places.


7 He causeth the vapors to ascend from the ends of the Earth; he maketh lightnings for the rain; he bringeth the wind out of his treasuries.


8 Who smote the firstborn of Egypt, both of man and beast.


9 Who sent tokens and wonders into the midst of thee, O Egypt, upon Pharaoh, and upon all his servants.


10 Who smote great nations, and slew mighty kings;


11 Sihon king of the Amorites, and Og king of Bashan, and all the kingdoms of Canaan:


12 And gave their land for an heritage, an heritage unto Israel his people.


13 Thy name, O Lord, endureth forever; and thy memorial, O Lord, throughout all generations.


14 For the Lord will judge his people, and he will repent himself concerning his servants.


15 The idols of the heathen are silver and gold, the work of men’s hands.


16 They have mouths, but they speak not; eyes have they, but they see not;


17 They have ears, but they hear not; neither is there any breath in their mouths.


18 They that make them are like unto them: so is every one that trusteth in them.


19 Bless the Lord, O house of Israel: bless the Lord, O house of Aaron:


20 Bless the Lord, O house of Levi: ye that fear the Lord, bless the Lord.


21 Blessed be the Lord out of Zion, which dwelleth at Jerusalem. Praise ye the Lord.