Commemoration of Martyrs of Papua New Guinea, 1942 Whence comes this idea that if what we are doing is read more

Commemoration of Martyrs of Papua New Guinea, 1942 Whence comes this idea that if what we are doing is fun, it can't be God's will? The God who made giraffes, a baby's fingernails, a puppy's tail, a crooknecked squash, the bobwhite's call, and a young girl's giggle, has a sense of humor. Make no mistake about that.

We have need of patience with ourselves and with others; with those below and those above us, and with our read more

We have need of patience with ourselves and with others; with those below and those above us, and with our own equals; with those who love us and those who love us not; for the greatest things and for the least; against sudden inroads of trouble, and under daily burdens; against disappointments as to the weather, or the breaking of the heart; in the weariness of the body, or the wearing of the soul; in our own failure of duty, or others' failure towards us; in every-day wants, or in the aching of sickness or the decay of old age; in disappointment, bereavement, losses, injuries, reproaches; in heaviness of the heart, or its sickness amid delayed hopes. In all these things, from childhood's little troubles to the martyr's sufferings, patience is the grace of God, whereby we endure evil for the love of God.

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 At morn I plucked a rose and give it Thee, A rose of joy read more

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 At morn I plucked a rose and give it Thee, A rose of joy and happy love and peace, A rose with scarce a thorn: But in the chillness of a second morn My rose bush drooped, and all its gay increase Was but one thorn that wounded me. I plucked the thorn and offered it to Thee, And for my thorn Thou gavest love and peace, Not joy this mortal morn: If Thou hast given much treasure for a thorn, Wilt Thou not give me for my rose increase Of gladness, and all sweets to me? My thorny rose, my love and pain, to Thee I offer, and I set my heart in peace, And rest upon my thorn: For verily I think to-morrow morn Shall bring me Paradise, my gift's increase, Yea, give Thy very Self to me.

Every time you make a choice, you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, read more

Every time you make a choice, you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before. And, taking your life as a whole, with all your innumerable choices, all your life long you are slowly turning this central thing either into a Heaven creature or into a hellish creature -- either into a creature that is in harmony with God, and with other creatures, and with itself, or else into one that is in a state of war and hatred with God, and with its fellow creatures and with itself. To be the one kind of creature is Heaven: that is, it is joy, and peace, and knowledge, and power. To be the other means madness, horror, idiocy, rage, impotence, and eternal loneliness. Each of us at each moment is progressing to the one state or the other.

Feast of Hildegard, Abbess of Bingen, Visionary, 1179 Reading is good, hearing is good, conversation and meditation are read more

Feast of Hildegard, Abbess of Bingen, Visionary, 1179 Reading is good, hearing is good, conversation and meditation are good; but then, they are only good at times and occasions, in a certain degree, and must be used and governed with such caution as we eat and drink and refresh ourselves, or they will bring forth in us the fruits of intemperance. But the spirit of prayer is for all times and occasions; it is a lamp that is to be always burning, a light to be ever shining: everything calls for it; everything is to be done in it and governed by it, because it is and means and wills nothing else but the totality of the soul -- not doing this or that, but wholly ... given up to God to be where and what and how He pleases.

Commemoration of William Morris, Artist, Writer, 1896 Commemoration of George Kennedy Bell, Bishop of Chichester, Ecumenist, Peacemaker, 1958 read more

Commemoration of William Morris, Artist, Writer, 1896 Commemoration of George Kennedy Bell, Bishop of Chichester, Ecumenist, Peacemaker, 1958 If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him.

Nothing is so easy to men of goodwill as goodwill itself, and this is all that God requires. Every act read more

Nothing is so easy to men of goodwill as goodwill itself, and this is all that God requires. Every act of goodwill permanently and sensibly increases goodwill. Trifling acts of goodwill are often more efficacious in this way than great ones. A flower given in kindness and at the right time profits more, both to giver and receiver, than some vast material benefit in which the goodwill is hidden by the magnitude of the act. Some little, sensible, individual touch from the hand of our Lord may convert the heart more than the contemplation of His death for us.

There never was a pain that befell a man, no frustration or discouragement, however insignificant, that, transferred to God, did read more

There never was a pain that befell a man, no frustration or discouragement, however insignificant, that, transferred to God, did not affect God endlessly more than man and was not infinitely more contrary to Him. So, if God puts up with it for the sake of some good He foresees for you, and if you are willing to suffer what God suffers, and to take what comes to you through Him, then whatever it is, it becomes divine in itself; shame becomes honor, bitterness becomes sweet, and gross darkness, clear light. Everything takes its savor from God and becomes divine; everything that happens betrays God when a man's mind works that way. Things have all this one taste; and therefore God is the same to this man alike in life's bitterest moments and sweetest pleasures.

Feast of All Saints O Lord! how happy should we be, If we could leave our cares to Thee, read more

Feast of All Saints O Lord! how happy should we be, If we could leave our cares to Thee, If we from self could rest; And feel at heart that One above, In perfect wisdom, perfect love, Is working for the best. For when we kneel and cast our care Upon our God in humble prayer, With strengthened souls we rise, Sure that our Father Who is nigh, To hear the ravens when they cry, Will hear His children's cries. O may these anxious hearts of ours The lesson learn from birds and flowers, And learn from self to cease, Leave all things to our Father's will, And in His mercy trusting still, Find in each trial peace!