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Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

I'm not cut out for silent retreats. I suppose that is the point. I don't want to make it sound like I'm very holy, because that is a lie. I think when they write the story of my life, it will say, "Finally, at the end, he learned to have a thought about God."

But the cool thing about all this sacred time is that one might actually start to use it. Father said the true cost of the retreat was to pray a decade of the Rosary for our brethren in Iraq. I can do that, I thought. But the fact that it seemed like a small thing reminded me of 2 things: 1. How often do I not even do the small things; and 2. Father actually believes in prayer, and if I did too, it wouldn't seem so small.

He left me with this one insight: My heart is not big enough to truly love the people in my path. I must ask for this grace, because self-effort is futile in such things.

St. Francis, pray for us!

St. Louis, King of France, pray for us!
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