Hello Friends and Readers,
I’m taking a step back from my usual discourse this week, because I am on vacation with my family. There are lots of things I could write about this week. I had a whole plan to do a deep-dive into the recent Pillar Catholic controversy, for example. But, to be honest, there’s not much I could say about that which hasn’t already been said. I think after more time and reflection I may be able to provide something of value, but as of now I’d just be adding to the noise. And one thing I really don’t want on vacation is noise.
Instead, I leave you with this poem from Sr. Madeleva Wolff, a famed poetess and former president of my Alma Mater. It’s a sweet, simple prayer, that I think captures the way many of us feel when we are trying to pray.
A Letter to My Most High Lord.
This Letter do I write to Thee,
My Lord most high,
To say I love Thee and to make a quest hereby.
Thou knowest that Thy mother is
My Lady dear;
Thou knowest that I make small songs
For her to hear.
Of late my little singing words
Have fled away,
And she has no song, Sweet Lord
This many a day.
Wherefore I ask thee, do Thou bid,
Some angel bring
Unto my Lady dear the songs
I cannot sing.
O, let it be an angel small
With simple ways
Who will not feel it mean to chant
My childish praise.
This is the quest, my Lover Lord,
With which I come;
And though Thou strike my my tongue, my heart
I will exchange for sweets of song
One thing more sweet,
The silence of adoring lips
Against thy feet.
I’ll be back next week.