God
Faith
I recall some years ago that I read Saint Faustina's diary, and for a time thereafter I started to "think" like her. It was a very fruitful time of spiritual development for me. I once heard a man say, "If you want to be a pro tennis player, hang out with tennis players; if you want to be a good businessman, hang out with good businessmen."
If you want to be a saint, hang out with holy people-- even if vicariously through their writings.
I've been reading small parts of the enormous two-volume set "The Sayings and Stories of the Desert Fathers and Mothers", and once again I've found myself thinking like the people about whom I'm reading. For example, I went for an hour-long walk along the trails which bless St. John's, and I was listening to the clock.
Many such bell systems chime on the hour, with the number of chimes corresponding to the hour. Then at the one quarter, half, and three quarters marks, they chime once, twice, and three times, respectively. If one hasn't been present enough to catch the "on the hour" number of chimes, he'll know it's "quarter after"-- but, quarter after what?
At the same time, the system allows one to engage fully in prayer without constantly needing to worry about the clock-- because every fifteen minutes, the clock will operate like an alarm. So there is this tension or juxtaposition which seems so emblematic of faith overall between being present to each moment on Earth, and being present to God.
I also got a bit lost on the trails, but listened for construction noises-- there was a tractor being run somewhere on campus. I followed the noise, and found my way out. That experience reminded me of the inner working of our souls. We can get lost in the maze of discernment sometimes, but God is always calling out to us to help put us back on track.
On another note, I looked up at the giant bell tower, and got vertigo as I always do when looking at a high place. I imagine myself hanging from such a place, with my arms tiring and no way to get down safely. This is how we often view situations in life-- we get "uncertainty vertigo" because God is asking us to go way up high, and we convince ourselves that once there, the situation will be untenable. The error in thinking is that it's our strength upon which we are dependent.
While it's good to ask for and receive supernatural strength from God, it is also folly for a man to attempt a thirty mile hike in the wilderness having not eaten for four days. One must know his limits and take care of himself.
If you want to be a saint, hang out with holy people-- even if vicariously through their writings.
I've been reading small parts of the enormous two-volume set "The Sayings and Stories of the Desert Fathers and Mothers", and once again I've found myself thinking like the people about whom I'm reading. For example, I went for an hour-long walk along the trails which bless St. John's, and I was listening to the clock.
Many such bell systems chime on the hour, with the number of chimes corresponding to the hour. Then at the one quarter, half, and three quarters marks, they chime once, twice, and three times, respectively. If one hasn't been present enough to catch the "on the hour" number of chimes, he'll know it's "quarter after"-- but, quarter after what?
At the same time, the system allows one to engage fully in prayer without constantly needing to worry about the clock-- because every fifteen minutes, the clock will operate like an alarm. So there is this tension or juxtaposition which seems so emblematic of faith overall between being present to each moment on Earth, and being present to God.
I also got a bit lost on the trails, but listened for construction noises-- there was a tractor being run somewhere on campus. I followed the noise, and found my way out. That experience reminded me of the inner working of our souls. We can get lost in the maze of discernment sometimes, but God is always calling out to us to help put us back on track.
On another note, I looked up at the giant bell tower, and got vertigo as I always do when looking at a high place. I imagine myself hanging from such a place, with my arms tiring and no way to get down safely. This is how we often view situations in life-- we get "uncertainty vertigo" because God is asking us to go way up high, and we convince ourselves that once there, the situation will be untenable. The error in thinking is that it's our strength upon which we are dependent.
While it's good to ask for and receive supernatural strength from God, it is also folly for a man to attempt a thirty mile hike in the wilderness having not eaten for four days. One must know his limits and take care of himself.



























