Can’t write, can’t concentrate. The mind is a monstrous thought machine, making eternal circles but not making sense. Where am I going? I need to write!
My thoughts revolve around one word all the time:
How did it get there?
I can’t do this on my own. It’s too big for little me. But I got the answer. There is, there always will be an answer when it’s really needed! This morning I got mine. In Church. Yes, I am still a Catholic – despite …you know… and we need a place to turn to, God’s House, when life overwhelms us, a place to pray, to light a candle.
And find answers!
I opened my prayer book and this was what I found:
Every human being is wounded during his life
Often these are small wounds and they heal quickly and well;
we almost forget about them.
Sometimes the wound is deep,
the healing process is difficult,
and the memory stays with us.
We carry a constant reminder of it with us:
The wound has healed, but the scar remains.
Scars are scratches on your soul,
but they can also radiate the riches
of a matured life,
such as the lines in the face of old age,
such as the signs of Jesus’ wounds
in the tales of his resurrection.
(Translation from the Dutch, text George Wüst sj)
I was crying as I read this, so fitting, so true! And then there was this personal prayer:
the cross is an unfathomable sign
of suffering and death.
Please help me to not walk away from it,
when I see people suffer
or if I’m going through a rough patch myself,
but to look it in the face
in the example of Jesus, your Son. Amen.