|ST. DAMIEN by|
You folks bowl me over, just in case you don't know.
I've been jammed with work these past several months: a new book, galleys for another book coming out in the fall, a new roster of "Credible Witnesses" for next year's monthly Magnificat column, an unexpected request of ten profiles for a Magnificat Year of Mercy collection for 2016, a couple of manuscripts I've been editing for others, a weekly arts and culture column which often requires a field trip; or driving across town, interviewing someone, transcribing the tape, and then shaping it down to an 800-word piece...
I'm generally very careful not to be "busy" in the sense of hardly a free moment (as opposed to intensely focused, in the sense of a conscious, intentional use of time that nonetheless allows for many hours that are not strictly scheduled or "owed" to others).
Given my druthers, I would probably spend many hours a day writing blog posts as the spirit moved. I've had many thoughts lately that have to do with time: time as in how I schedule the hours of my day, time as in life as hidden sacrifice, time as in mortality and eternity.
For now, they will have to wait, as I need to write a piece on Blessed Franz
But I can at least share this amazing painting by Matthew Kirby of Brooklyn, who sent it on after reading a recent post on St. Damien and the lepers. He writes: "It was supposed to be for these dinners for people with AIDS, but a priest said if I gave it to them they'd just stick it in a closet and forget about it. So he took it with the intention of brokering a sale. I'm sure it's now in a closet somewhere, which is perfect."
Talk about a life of hidden sacrifice! (Matthew, I mean (who is also a husband and father), not St. Damien, though of course him, too). Such beauty, such depth, such heart. [Check out more of Matthew's work here and here].
I can't always respond to the emails I receive as fully as I'd like. But I've never been more aware that as St. Ignatius of Loyola observed: "Love is an exchange of gifts."
Thank you for all you give me. I would perish without it.