You Can't Write About Things Without Doing

Advent Is A Time Of Waiting, Of Expectation, Of Silence. Waiting For Our Lord To Be Born. A Pregnant Woman Is So Happy, So Content. She Lives In Such A Garment Of Silence, And It Is As Though She Were Listening To Hear The Stir Of Life Within Her. One Always Hears That Stirring Compared To The Rustling Of A Bird In The Hand. But The Intentness Which Which One Awaits Such Stirring Is Like Nothing So Much As A Blanket Of Silence.

Communities Are Made Up Of The Unlovable As Well As The Lovable.

It Is Not Easy Always To Be Joyful, To Keep In Mind The Duty Of Delight.

For Me Christ Was Not To Be Bought For Thirty Pieces Of Silver But With My Heart's Blood. We Buy Not Cheap In This Market.

What Else Do We All Want, Each One Of Us, Except To Love And Be Loved, In Our Families, In Our Work, In All Our Relationships?