The Words Escape Me

I have a nervous tongue,

but a steady hand.

I lack eloquence in speech,

but I can put down, in writing,

a pretty good sentence.

 

Words jumble and tumble from my mouth,

jostling one another to get free—

running, then stumbling over my lips.

 

As thoughts pile up in my head,

words fight each other for proper order;

struggling at the tip of my tongue,

pushing and shoving,

lunging then leaping out the door.

 

I hear their chaos

as they echo in my ears,

and I wonder,

“Do you understand me?”

 

“I’m not sure I just did.”

 

You nod and smile politely.

 

And I think again,

“If only I could have written to you instead.”

 

~FS

Wasting Grace

Grace will raise us up and give us new life, a life transformed and renewed. It will give us eyes to see, and ears to hear, so that we can become enlightened, illuminated by true wisdom. Grace is blessed life, given us by God, that we may live our life in God; in blessed peace and joyfulness.

We have this gift, this power that can make all things new for us. How is it then that I use this power, instead, to give my old self renewed power? I treat the power of life like it’s a battery-charger; using it to fill me up, and revitalize my profligate activities.

I squander grace in idle talk; giving myself over to foolishness, wasting precious moments, pregnant with opportunity for godliness, upon pettiness and vanities.

God gives us power to do His will, yet I pour this power flagrantly, out upon the earth. The gift He has given me, I have used selfishly, and upon my own desires. Whereas it was given to me for the benefit of others, as a power of spiritual freedom; I have used it wantonly, as a power of enslavement—binding myself and others to worldly distractions, and ridiculous delusions.

This life is not for my amusement, nor is the precious breath of life intended to fuel the selfish satisfaction of my vain pursuits.

Sometimes, I am justly denied God’s grace that I may rightly see the results of my choices. Then, in my utter lostness and despair, I cry out to God for help. And wonderfully, grace returns, sometimes immediately, and other times after long anguished waiting.

Grace is a gift that leads us into wisdom and light. May we live in grace wisely, never wasting grace.

~FS

November 6

By ‘many dwelling-places’ (John 14:2) the Savior meant the differing stages of spiritual ascent and states of development in the other world; for although the kingdom of heaven is one, there are many different levels within it. That is to say, there is place for both heavenly and earthy men (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:48) according to their virtue, their knowledge and the degree of deification that they have attained. ‘For there is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars, for one star differs from another star in glory’ (1 Corinthians 15:41); and yet all of them shine in a single diving firmament.

~St Gregory of Sinai

November 4

Requitals correspond to our deserts, even if many people think they do not. To some, divine justice gives eternal life; to others, eternal chastisement. Each will be requited according to his actions–according to whether he has passed through this present life in a virtuous or in a sinful manner. The degree or quality of the requital will accord with the state induced in each by either the passions or the virtues, and the differing effects these have had.

~St Gregory of Sinai

Book is Now Available

I wanted to let you know that my book, Paths: Dead Ends & Open Doors, is now available on Amazon in paperback and for Kindle.
This is my spiritual memoir which many of you have read, in part, as I have sent out portions over the previous year. It is now collected into one narrative.
I hope you will enjoy it, and if you do, please include a brief review on Amazon, if you wouldn’t mind, as I hope more people may enjoy and benefit from it:
image.jpeg
image.jpeg
Thank you!
Love,
Francis

November 1

A true sanctuary, even before the life to come, is a heart free from distractive thoughts and energized by the Spirit, for all is done and said there spiritually. If we do not attain such a state in this life, we may because of our other virtues be a stone fit for building into the temple of God; but we will not ourselves be a temple or a celebrant of the Spirit.

~St Gregory of Sinai

The Molecules of Sorrow

There is a slow evolution to sorrow,

as time passes, it falls from the trees, so to speak,

its color fades, and it molders,

and then disappears beneath the surface.

 

It dissipates, filtering through our sub-strata,

the molecules of sorrow penetrating our deep recesses,

and lodging there.

 

Meanwhile, life goes on, as they say.

 

I see the bold beauty of a sunflower and smile,

and my daily tasks I greet with gratitude;

I am thankful for this life I have been given.

 

But what of the lives that have been taken away,

particularly the one,

or two, that made up the fabric of our being,

whom we shared this life with as if they were our very selves?

 

Now they are gone,

perhaps leaving us many years ago,

or just last year, and somehow—

even though this world is still very beautiful,

and our lives are very blessed—

their absence has left a cold vacuum within us.

 

And when I stop for a moment from my activities,

I sense my soul gasping for air, bewildered and sighing,

confused at being left here alone.

 

Nothing is as it was,

and nothing can be again.

 

Yet still I see the vibrant color in the trees,

and the leaves as they fall.

Life is a rich tapestry,

that infuses time with brilliance—

 

I am stunned by its misery and its beauty.

 

~FS