Category Archives: Uncategorized

I pulled my car out of the garage, heading first towards the end of the block and ultimately to I-75. As I came to the end of our street, I looked east down a deserted 8th Avenue which runs alongside a nearly empty canal from which there was enough moisture for steam to be rising in pleasant curly wafts. I had an unobstructed view the mile or so before 8th dead-ends into Hendry County when I caught my first look at the sun, bigger than the geodome at Epcot and more intensely coral than the ripest apricot, rising ever so slowly.

As you know from earlier posts, gazing at natural phenomena is something I do with some regularity. It’s as though God call’s out my name in these images. “Come look Kathleen, see what I made for you this morning!” The sun was low enough on the horizon and filtered through enough of the atmosphere that the perimeter was sharply defined against the sky. It had not yet cleared the ground…so the bottom edge appeared as though it might be resting on the earth for just a minute longer before it rose to do its work. Soon it would be too bright to look at directly, too busy lighting and warming and too ordinary for anyone to bother being caught up in its beauty.

But for the moment is was a gift. It was a gift with my name on it. It was a gift from the Creator of the Universe. I didn’t ask for, or even hint that it was something I’d love. There was no special occasion… it was just a Thursday morning. I hadn’t been particularly good and there was no holiday which it was sent to celebrate. Yet there it was in all its ginormous glory. Thank You God!

I’m sure there are times in your life and in mine that we are given such gifts but we miss them. The hurry in our step; the multi-tasking in our minds; the unresolved issues or relationships that steal our thoughts all have the potential to dim our eyes to what is right before us, and keep us from hearing God calling our name as He offers us His gifts.

The Good News of course is that the One who offers such gifts never tires of calling to us or creating – never gets discouraged that we are often deaf, dumb and blind to His presence and presents all around us. Tomorrow there will be a new sunrise and sunset, a new song of a bird calling, a new rainbow in a clear blue sky. The nature of God’s gifts of nature is that they are as the Psalmist wrote: “new every morning — so great is God’s faithfulness.”

In our recognition of the gift and the Giver we receive more than momentary good feelings, however. These short encounters with God are among the ways our hearts are knit to His heart and His Image is made more real in us. As we are touched by the Divine we are made more like Him. By faith we believe that when we see God, we are made holy, we are changed.

As spring begins to fall freshly upon us, I want to encourage you to look for the gifts of nature from the Ultimate Giver of nature’s gifts. Pause over them, take them in, delight in them and know the encounter is more than you can see, hear, feel or imagine. Our generous God is showering His glory all around us. Stop and smell the beautiful roses. PEACE AND JOY, THE CELTIC MONK

Sunrise over the Sea of Galilee

I pulled my car out of the garage, heading first towards the end of the block and ultimately to I-75.  As I came to the end of our street, I looked east down a deserted 8th Avenue which runs alongside a nearly empty canal from which there was enough moisture for steam to be rising in pleasant curly wafts.  I had an unobstructed view the mile or so before 8th dead-ends into Hendry County when I caught my first look at  the sun, bigger than the geodome at Epcot and more intensely coral than the ripest apricot,  rising ever so slowly. 

As you know from earlier posts, gazing at natural phenomena is something I do with some regularity.  It’s as though God call’s out my name in these images.  “Come look Kathleen, see what I made for you this morning!”   The sun was low enough on the horizon and filtered through enough of the atmosphere that the perimeter was sharply defined against the sky.  It had not yet cleared the ground…so the bottom edge  appeared as though it might be resting on the earth for just a minute longer before it rose to do its work.  Soon it would be too bright to look at directly, too busy lighting and warming and too ordinary for anyone to bother being caught up in its beauty. 

But for the moment is was a gift.  It was a gift with my name on it.  It was a gift from the Creator of the Universe.  I didn’t ask for, or even hint that it was something I’d love.  There was no special occasion… it was just a Thursday morning.  I hadn’t been particularly good and there was no holiday which it was sent to celebrate.  Yet there it was in all its ginormous glory.  Thank You God!

I’m sure there are times in your life and in mine that we are given such gifts but we miss them.  The hurry in our step;  the multi-tasking in our minds; the unresolved issues or relationships that steal our thoughts all have the potential to dim our eyes to what is right before us, and keep us from hearing God calling our name as He offers us His gifts.

The Good News of course is that the One who offers such gifts never tires of calling to us  or creating – never gets discouraged that we are often deaf, dumb and blind to His presence and presents all around us.  Tomorrow there will be a new sunrise and sunset, a new song of a  bird calling, a new rainbow in a clear blue sky.  The nature of God’s gifts of nature is that they are as the Psalmist wrote: “new every morning — so great is God’s faithfulness.”

In our recognition of the gift and the Giver we receive more than  momentary good feelings, however.  These short encounters with God are among the ways our hearts are knit to His heart and His Image is made more real in us.  As we are touched by the Divine we are made more like Him.  By faith we believe that when we see God, we are made holy, we are changed. 

As spring begins to fall freshly upon us, I want to encourage you to look for the gifts of nature from the Ultimate Giver of nature’s gifts.  Pause over them, take them in, delight in them and know the encounter is more than you can see, hear, feel or imagine.  Our generous God is showering His glory all around us. Stop and smell the beautiful roses.  PEACE AND JOY,  THE CELTIC MONK

Farewell to Farmville

 It was last fall that I finally answered an invitation on Facebook… the social networking website, to play Farmville… a social networking game.  How fun I thought, that rather than playing solitaire or mahjong by myself, I would play this farming game and be able to catch up with friends at the same time.  What could be better?

I was brand new to the world wide web of all things electronically social and it appeared to be a simplest of avenues to keep in the loop. I’d have a small interaction with friends and acquaintances from miles away as I decompressed from my day. What better way to spend 10 minutes than with that 6” x 6” plot of  flat screen ground while sending and receiving trees, chickens, fences and lambs with friends.

 It even felt familiar, this sensation of a momentary connection.  I remembered that when Sean was two and just getting his own little sense of self he practiced a ritual of comfort as he took those first steps of independence.  He would make a foray into another room, or even down stairs, or get occupied with a toy and then feeling alone, he’d run into whatever room I was in and he’d touch my leg as if to say… “I’m big enough to go off on my own… but I just want to know you’re still here.”  When he was satisfied with that knowledge… off he’d go again—without a word.

 So as I’m now experiencing a somewhat independent journey of my own, away from so many familiar people and things… it was kind of nice to be able to run to Farmville to put my hand out and touch some of the folks who were no longer in my every day.  It was indeed comforting to see their one inch by one inch face on the bottom of my Farmville screen listed as “neighbors” and to have the illusion (or is it a delusion) of being connected.

 And then there were the “gifts.”  In Gary Chapman’s book about the five love languages, he says that there are 5 ways that we prefer to give and to receive love.  There’s a short test available to see what someone else needs to do to make us feel loved… and how we like to express love to others.  It will come as no surprise to anyone who loves me that I give and receive love through gifts.  Sometimes notes and cards, sometimes the real deal, shop/buy/charge/joy/ give/smile/love.  That’s me.

 So imagine the degree of my enchantment with Farmville when I found that one way the game is successfully navigated is through the giving and receiving of gifts.  Free gifts.  Just click to send and click to open and your farm begins to grow.  Free gifts! I love this virtual world of social relationships. I even started receiving gifts and requests to be a “neighbor” from folks I didn’t know.  Now I’ve watched my share of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.  There is really only one response to “would you be mine, could you be mine, won’t you be my neighbor?”

 My farm began to flourish. And just about the time I was running out of room on my 6 x 6 plot, I learned that I could buy a bigger farm.  Whoa!  But this bigger plot wasn’t free like the first one.  And, oh heck, since I was going to buy a bigger farm anyway, I might as well, buy a few other things. After all, it didn’t cost me anything to start.  What’s a few bucks negotiable without ever leaving my computer screen?

 By now the holidays were almost upon us and there were virtual turkeys and cornucopias and then Christmas trees and gift trees and presents… there were nutcrackers, and candy cane fences, and more virtual presents to give and receive.  And I love Christmas decorations, so I had to plant more crops, and I had to visit my farm everyday so that (heaven’s no) my crops wouldn’t wither.  And if I did it just right, some days I could plant the same ground twice. I bought one house and then a shed, then a bigger house.  And now there were Christmas lights and snow.  I could buy snow and my whole farm turned from green to white, yet I could still plant and harvest. This is a great reality.

  I was helping my friends on their farms almost every day and sending them things too.  But we didn’t talk about real things only fake trees, fake livestock, fake fertilizer and sending fake gifts.  And it didn’t feel much like I was touching base with friends anymore.  I felt more like a supplier for their next hit on Farmville, as they were the suppliers for mine.  And way beyond the few minutes it took per day when I began, I was up to 30 minutes twice a day to keep it all going – an hour without any real interaction with real people.

 It was then that I first decided to quit; but there were valentines in my virtual mailbox and there were shamrock bushes to plant for extra XP.  And I’d just put out dozens of virtual flowers and they’d be drooping in two weeks… then my farm would be ugly if I didn’t go in to clean it up. I’d have an ugly vitual farm with dead virtual crops and no virtual friends.

 So my next idea was to phase out slowly and yes I know how silly this sounds. I planned to remove all the living things (vitual living things) from the farm that needed to be fed and harvested, so I sold off all my sheep and cows, all the lambs, calves and pigs—after all—if I’m quitting I don’t want them to starve.  And I plowed under all 140 squares of planting space I’d amassed.  That was a lot of harvestable ground.  I replaced it with trees and shrubs and some water features. And since I was going to be away, I took down my pretty pink fence and put up a sturdy stone fence instead, ivy covered. Don’t want any squatters you know.  And I took the Christmas nutcrackers and tin soldiers out of storage (oh yes, there’s storage for those things you buy and don’t really need anymore) and placed them strategically around the place for protection of my virtual social networking farm.

 As I fortified my farm I realized that I hadn’t visited or helped on my neighbors farms for a while, and come to think of it, they hadn’t visited or helped on mine.  And, hmmm… we never really talked or connected as I thought we would even when we did virtually interact across the miles of Farmville.

 My virtual social networking foray was never as social as it seemed at first possible.  Now that I’ve given up the farm, I wonder if anyone will notice that’s I’m no longer their neighbor?  Or is this really just one more way (albeit a 21^st century way) that people fall through the cracks of other peoples lives without ever having to say good-bye, or I’ll miss you?  PEACE AND JOY, THE CELTIC MONK

It was last fall that I finally answered an invitation on Facebook… the social networking website, to play Farmville… a social networking game.

How fun I thought, that rather than playing solitaire or mahjong by myself, I would play Farmville and be able to catch up with friends at the same time. What could be better?

I was brand new to the world wide web of all things electronically social and it appeared to be a simplest of avenues to keep in the loop. I’d have a small interaction with friends and acquaintances from miles away as I decompressed from my day. What better way to spend 10 minutes than with that 6” x 6” plot of flat screen soil while sending and receiving trees, chickens, fences and lambs with friends.

It even felt familiar, this sensation of a momentary connection. I remembered that when Sean was two and just getting his own little sense of self he practiced a ritual of comfort as he took those first steps of independence. He would make a foray into another room, or even down stairs, or get occupied with a toy and then feeling alone, he’d run into whatever room I was in and he’d touch my leg as if to say… “I’m big enough to go off on my own… but I just want to know you’re still here.” When he was satisfied with that knowledge… off he’d go again—without a word.

As I’m now experiencing a somewhat independent journey of my own, away from so many familiar people and things… it was kind of nice to be able to run to Farmville to put out my hand and touch some of the folks who were no longer in my every day. It was indeed comforting to see their one inch by one inch face on the bottom of my Farmville screen listed as “neighbors” and to have the illusion (or is it a delusion) of being connected.

And then there were the “gifts.” In Gary Chapman’s book about the five love languages, he says that there are 5 ways that we prefer to give and to receive love. There’s a short test available to see what someone else needs to do to make us feel loved… and how we like to express love to others. It will come as no surprise to anyone who loves me that I give and receive love through gifts. Sometimes notes and cards, sometimes the real deal, shop/buy/charge/joy/ give/smile/love. That’s me.

So imagine the degree of my enchantment with Farmville when I found that one way the game is successfully navigated is through the giving and receiving of gifts. Free gifts. Just click to send and click to open and your farm begins to grow. Free gifts! I love this virtual world of social relationships. I even started receiving gifts and requests to be a “neighbor” from folks I didn’t know. Now I’ve watched my share of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. There is really only one response to “would you be mine, could you be mine, won’t you be my neighbor?”

So my farm began to flourish. And just about the time I was running out of room on my 6 x 6 plot, I learned that I could buy a bigger farm. Whoa! But this bigger plot wasn’t free like the first one. And, oh heck, since I was going to buy a bigger farm anyway, I might as well, buy a few other things. After all, it didn’t cost me anything to start. What’s a few bucks negotiable without ever leaving my computer screen?

By now the holidays were almost upon us and there were virtual turkeys and cornucopias and then Christmas trees and gift trees and presents… there were nutcrackers, and candy cane fences, and more virtual presents to give and receive.
And I love Christmas decorations, so I had to plant more crops, and I had to visit my farm everyday so that (heaven’s no) my crops wouldn’t wither. And if I did it just right, some days I could plant the same ground twice. I bought one house and then a shed, then a bigger house. And now there were Christmas lights and snow. I could buy snow and my whole farm turned from green to white, yet I could still plant and harvest. This is a great virtual reality.

I was helping my friends on their farms almost every day and sending them things to help their farms grow. But we didn’t talk about real things only fake trees, fake livestock, fake fertilizer and sending fake gifts. And it didn’t feel much like I was touching base with friends. In fact, I began to feel more like a supplier for their next hit on Farmville, as they were the suppliers for mine. And way beyond the few minutes it took per day when I began, I was up to 30 minutes twice a day to keep it all going – an hour without any real interaction with real people.

It was then that I first decided to quit; but there were valentines in my virtual mailbox and there were shamrock bushes to plant for extra XP. And I’d just put out dozens of virtual flowers and they’d be drooping in two weeks… then my farm would be ugly if I didn’t go in to clean it up. I’d have an ugly vitual farm with dead virtual crops and no virtual friends.

So my next idea was to phase out slowly and yes I know how silly this sounds. I planned to remove all the living things (vitual living things) from the farm that needed to be fed and harvested. I sold off all my sheep and cows, all the lambs, calves and pigs—after all—if I’m quitting I don’t want them to starve. And I plowed under all 140 squares of planting space I’d amassed. That was a lot of harvestable ground. And since I was going to be away, I took down my pretty pink fence and put up a sturdy stone fence instead, ivy covered. Don’t want any squatters you know. And I took the Christmas nutcrackers and tin soldiers out of storage (oh yes, there’s storage for those things you buy and don’t really need anymore) and placed them strategically around the place for protection of my virtual social networking farm.

As I fortified my farm I realized that I hadn’t visited or helped on my neighbors farms for a while, and come to think of it, they hadn’t visited or helped on mine. And, hmmm… we never really talked or connected as I thought we would even when we did virtually interact across the miles of Farmville.

My virtual social networking foray was never as social as it seemed at first possible. Now that I’ve given up the farm, I wonder if anyone will notice that I’m no longer their neighbor? Or is this really just one more way (albeit a 21st century way) that people fall through the cracks of other peoples lives without ever having to say good-bye, or I’ll miss you? BLESSINGS AND LOVE, THE CELTIC MONK

While visiting St. John’s last fall, I purchased a beautiful handblown glass orb called “The Tree of Enchantment.”  It’s a crystal clear softball sized sphere with deep jeweltones blown into the very top portion.  When you look inside, you see several different glass channels that look very much like the trunk of on old tree. They are the vehicle through which the colored glass flowed to the top.  It’s artful. It’s stunning.

     While taking it out of its box this week, as I’ve done several times, for the first time I noticed the very bottom of it. Where the glass blowers pipe connected to the bottom of the piece, it looked like a gnarled blemish.  It was reminiscient of a sacb I had on my knee in 8th grade after a bad fall on some rough concrete!

     But even as I noticed it, I knew that without this scar… my precious purchase would have none of the beauty inside and out, that drew me to it in the first place.  It would be plain, uninteresting, unable to evoke the response I had to it. Most likely I would have walked right by it as it hung in the museum shop.

     Especially as part of a spiritual discipline, I think its good to think about the scabs, the blemishes, the darkend places that make up our lives.  What were those situations, circumstances, relationships which held us low…but which God used to bring beauty and color into our lives?  Where has the Scripture been true in your experience that God gives “beauty for ashes.”

     While it would be a mental illness to seek darkness for its own sake…the practice I’m suggesting in this season of Lent is one of redemption.  We look at the mis-shapen places to invite God to show us how He has, or is working to redeem the days. We ponder and wonder so that The Light might show us His way.

      If you’d like a guide in your pursuit… I’m only an email away.  There is a Tree of Enchantment meant for Eternity inside each of us.  BLESSINGS and JOY, THE CELTIC MONK

While visiting St. John’s last fall, I purchased a beautiful handblown glass orb called “The Tree of Enchantment.” It’s a crystal clear softball sized sphere with deep jeweltones blown into the very top portion. When you look inside, you see several different glass channels that look very much like the trunk of on old tree. They are the vehicle through which the colored glass flowed to the top. It’s artful. It’s stunning.

While taking it out of its box this week, as I’ve done several times, for the first time I noticed the very bottom of it. Where the glass blowers pipe connected to the bottom of the piece, it looked like a gnarled blemish. It was reminiscient of a scab I had on my knee in 8th grade after a bad fall on some rough concrete!

But even as I noticed it, I knew that without this scar… my precious purchase would have none of the beauty inside and out, that drew me to it in the first place. It would be plain, uninteresting, unable to evoke the response I had to it. Most likely I would have walked right by it as it hung in the museum shop.

Especially as part of a spiritual discipline, I think its good to think about the scabs, the blemishes, the darkend places that make up our lives. What were those situations, circumstances, relationships which held us low…but which God used to bring beauty and color into our lives? Where has the Scripture been true in your experience that God gives “beauty for ashes.”

While it would be a mental illness to seek darkness for its own sake…the practice I’m suggesting in this season of Lent is one of redemption. We look at the mis-shapen places to invite God to show us how He has, or is working to redeem the days. We ponder and wonder so that The Light might show us His way.

If you’d like a guide in your pursuit… I’m only an email away. There is a Tree of Enchantment meant for Eternity inside each of us. BLESSINGS and JOY, THE CELTIC MONK

Okay, so I know I should pay attention when speeding down an interstate at excessive miles per hour.  And I do. Or I think I do. Or I am trying to do so.  But sometimes a “God-thing” as my friend John would say, interupts. Like on Wednesday morning this week…

It was early enough in the morning for the sun to be rising on my left just coming over the tops of the trees in the distance, a sphere of ginormous proportions.  It was so wonderful a sight that I wanted to stare.  Yet when I looked back at the road in front of me, all I could see from even that first peek, were green circles.  It made me laugh, first the looking and then the circles… none of it conducive to driving.

When I looked back a second time (once is never enough when gazing on splendor) the golden-orange glistening ball had made its way into a cloud bank that acted as a veil. It was enough cover to dim the shining, but not enough to obliterate the magnificence. There it was in all its glory behind an organza curtain through which I could still see the definition of its form and color.

As I continued to catch glimpses of it through my driver’s side window, now safely diffused behind the whisper thin clouds, it reminded me of the graciousness of God as He comes to us each day veiled in our ordinary life circumstances.  Should He come to us as the bare brilliance of His glory, we would not be able to look at Him too long. It is by His great compassion, that God reveals Himself in gentle ways to those who seek Him.

How many miles I travelled as I was taking all of this in is hard to say.  I believe it began while I was in Estero and ended as I entered Collier County. By the time it was over I was already offering a thank you to the Holy One who reveals Himself as Way, Truth and Life.

I’m thankful for moments of spiritual clarity.  I’m grateful for veiled manifestations of the Divine.  I’m wondering about the thin places I’ve considered before–if it is the physical place that makes a difference, or if its a condition of our hearts.  (Both/And, is likely)  Encouraging you this week to see with your heart and give thanks.  BLESSINGS AND JOY,  THE CELTIC MONK

         This This week as I drove to Moorings Park to lead morning worship, I had one line from my text stuck in my mind. The passage was from the Gospel of John where Jesus is telling his disciples that just as God has loved Him, He is passing that love along and we should remain in His love. Remain in His love; the phrase kept coming  back to me over and over again.

        What does it mean to ‘remain’ in Christ’s love. How do we ‘remain’ in a love that is the continuation of God’s love for His Son? I don’t remember anyone teaching me what it means to ‘remain’ in God’s love. Is it important to our life of faith… why won’t these thoughts go away? I was driving down I 75 south at 70 miles an hour (the posted speed limit) as these thoughts came to me faster than I was driving. Remain in my love.

        NPR was on the radio and I managed to focus for a moment as a woman began talking about being a friend of Dian Fossey and visiting her a decades ago at an observation sight. http://www.gorillafund.org/dian_fossey/ As a behavioral scientist, she had been very interested in Dian’s work and was delighted by the invitation. On one particular outing, she accompanied Dian to a meeting place of large gorilla’s, under a forest canopy. In a clearing, several gorilla’s sat in a circle about 12 feet in diameter. As the two women approached, they were deliberate in moving slowly and refraining from making eye contact. Soon, they had enetered the circle and were sitting among the amazing animals.

        But as it is with new things, the scientist couldn’t help but to raise her eyes slightly to see what was happening around her. And she happened to lock gazes with a large female gorilla sitting opposite her. She knew she should look away, it was only a moment or two. The female gorilla rose and walked the distance around the circle to her position. Then putting her hands on the scientist’s face… the gorilla drew her towards her…forehead to forehead. She could see the breathe of the gorilla begin to steam on her glasses. Then the gorilla took both arms and wrapped them on the woman’s back only for an instant…then returned to the place she had come from in the circle. When she recounted the story to folks, inevitably someone would ask: “What do you think it means?” And her reply was: “When you encounter wild things, amazing and wonderful things happen…even if you don’t understand them.” When you encounter wild things, amazing and wonderful things happen…even if you don’t understand them.

        That’s it, I thought, that’s it. That’s what it means to remain in Christ’s love, God’s love for us. Remaining in the love of God is our willing attention to the wildness of God’s love that allows us to glimpse the amazing and wonderful things God is doing, how God is present in our world… even when we don’t always understand them.

        Surely one way to remain in such love is through the daily practice of meditation. As we sit in the circle of that love, our hearts are changed ever so imperceptibly – until that time that we notice, that we’ve begun to see the workings of God all around us. As we sit in that circle of His love, it is as though the very breathe of God is changing our vision. And when we encounter such ‘wild things of God… amazing and wonderful things happen…even if we don’t fully understand them.

         As we move through the Lenten season, friends, I encourage you to remain in Christ’s love. And may the wild things of God be bountiful in your life! BLESSINGS AND JOY! The Celtic Monk

I visit a website regularly put together by a group of Irish Jesuits called SACRED SPACE.  I’ve been following the site for 10 years and it always seems fresh to me. 

When I visited Sacred Space on New Year’s Eve I came upon the following prayer which I found thought provoking and wanted to share with you:

Lord, 2009 was a difficult year across the globe. As it slips away in these short days, I pray about what you have done to me, and to my world, since last January. How was I touched by the recession which put millions of people out of work? Have I become more compassionate, or more selfish and defensive? The year saw failures on a massive scale, in banking and business and government. We could easily droop with depression, crying in the old Gaelic lament, ‘Ochón agus ochón agus ochón!’

Success is what we do with our failures. Somewhere in all this misery, Lord, you have a lesson for us. We do not learn it if we simply circle the wagons and defend the way we have always been. We have seen the consequences of unbridled greed. As we wish one another a happy new year, we might think twice before adding “and prosperous”. The blinkered pursuit of prosperity has not spread happiness wider. Teach me, Lord.

As I read and re-read the prayer I found truth upon truth both in the words and inbetween.

Yes, 2009 was difficult. But as I’ve taught in the past (with very mixed reception) God’s will and way is being worked out even if I don’t yet see, agree, or understand it.  The only thing more scary than saying “I pray about what You have done to me and to my world since last January” would be to consider instead that God kept Himself distant or completely cut off from us and our world since last January… that He saw the mess and walked away!

And surely failures from personal to super-corporate size abounded.  But isn’t it also abundantly true that what we do in adversity is the most accurate measure of ourselves as people, as neighbors, as followers of Christ. If we’ve been among the more fortunate, how have we helped those who were not in 2009 — what are our plans for 2010? 

This morning as I went back to look at the Jesuit’s prayer once more, I was startled to find my name written into it in a way I’ve been able to leave un-named till now. [Is it the ego that allows us to be so blind?]  We know that as the world-wide financial collapse grew, institutions began to collapse and many folks’ charitable giving came to a halt. Facing a shortfall in the multiple hundreds of thousands of dollars, my position at a non-profit organization was eliminated. In a desperate act to stay afloat… someone had to be thrown off the life boat and I became one of those unemployed of 2009! But God…

From such adversity Peace River Spirituality Center, Inc. was born. (www.peaceriverspirituality.org)   It’s been blest by generous gifts, support and encouragement of those who believe in its ministry and purpose. What it will become is beyond my control. If success is what we do with our failures… then Peace River Spirituality Center is already a success–not in a way the world recognizes–but a triumph of spirit.  To God be the glory.    

As an act of solidarity with my friends the Jesuits and the millions of people whose lives have been brought to the edge by all that happened in 2009, my simple wish for you is joy and health in the new year.  And in these dawning days of 2010 perhaps we might consider the Source of our joy and health and how we can share it with others. Blessing upon blessing to you and those you love.  THE CELTIC MONK