I received your short letter and I share your pain. I brought to mind the image of how things are and, aware of my own wretchedness, sighed at the possibility of being saved. ‘Alas, Saviour of the world, I am overwhelmed by my iniquities and am unable to see. Hasten, as merciful, and make speed, as compassionate, to our aid, for you can do whatsoever you wish’.
My fragrant little petal, things seem to be the way they are as the result of some experience or other. But what is it that we want? This isn’t life, my child. It’s not just a long Lent, but also the whole length of our sojourn here. Let’s at least learn to make a ...
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