Is now the right time to truly be open and strive to believe that we have been created to love and to be loved? This being our single most reason for living. Can we begin to feel and face the restlessness within and the longing for more than what our material lives bring to us? In life, can you feel there is something missing even after buying up all the toys that are suppose to keep us pre-occupied? How do we heal the pain of this fire within? Or can we even fathom to believe we can heal ourselves? Instead of confronting the pain we run from it, using the material world to keep us pre-occupied. The whole of our human family shares in this woundedness. The whole of our human family continues to have a difficult time admitting this truth. Many strive to place themselves above the rest, yet we’re no different than the man or woman who is next to us in the check out stand, or the homeless person who is lying in the streets. We pretend to be better than others. We pretend to be more sophisticated, more educated and more in charge. Why is it so hard to trust that the emptiness that touches us can be filled only by the one who created us. If we were our own creation we would have no problem with solving all the problems that confront us. But let’s be truthful and admit to ourselves and to each other that we are not in charge of our own destiny. We are not the product of our own creation. When we were younger we had a basic idea of where we wanted to take our life, what we wanted to achieve, but as time went by most of us ended up in a completely different line of work. Destiny seems to have lead us down a different path than what we expected. This is because the Creator of this universe has different plans for us. God has a broader understanding of our destiny. If we tap into His grace and allow the Creator to guide us, our inner life will find more peace. We will rest more assurdly. But until then, we will have a certain discord within while forever seeking the solice of inner peace.
Peace and Goodness To You,
Love,
Bro. Mark
Hermits of St. Giles