Patient Trust

Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything
to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something
unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through
some stages of instability –
and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.
Your ideas mature gradually – let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances
acting on your good will)
will make of you tomorrow.

Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his healing hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.

Written by Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ

Water

Hold me under water till I breathe in only you
Hold me in the broken arms of all who follow you

For they have sung with the breath that fills my lungs

Hold me under water till I breathe in only you
Hold me in the broken arms of all who follow you

For they have sung with the breath that fills my lungs
For they have sung with the Word that moves my tongue

Song written by Dave Warne

A Holy Longing

Where can we find you God?

Are you in the asphalt, steel, or brick?
Those man-made things of this world.

Or are you in the tree, the river, and the wind?
Those things that you created.

We forget how powerful you are.
Demonstrate your power in our lives.

God of the mundane.
God of the excellent.
Bring us back to you.

For you are the perfect synthesis of holiness and love.

written by David McCallum

Good Things

God of
vegetables
and yellow leaves in the air,
you have given us enough.
There is enough
for everyone, even for those
who die from too little,
because you have made
even death
good.
You bring us,
if we would go,
from a pure heart,
to a growing heart,
to a pure heart.

God who
has hands all marked with work,
you have enough time.

You are a deep sea, deep enough
for peace under any wind.

I stretch like the leaves;
I follow your sustenance.
You are vitamins, you are molten core,
you are flint and secret ocean floor.
You are language, you’re the kiss,
you’re the one who walks in dreams.

I add my off-pitch notes
with the monks in their hoods,
cold cheeks and warmth in their chests,
to the morning mass woman,
old and regular, aching knees,
tongue stretched out for the host.
To the tree black crows in a yellow tree,
your harsh prophets.
To the maple leaf high in a grey sky,
before it goes to rest.
God, you are enough.

written by Katie Gorrie