“The cooing of doves is heard in our land…” (SS 2:12)
Dear Child of God, I can feel your heart, the anxiety and the longing, for better days… you need help and prayers, but you do not want to inconvenience anybody… I have been there… apologizing for loving less… for giving half and not the whole of my heart, to ministry and to others… I used to run from reality, when pain defined it…This is how I became a poet… but I suffered in silence, managing to write songs without a chorus at the end… The future was lonely… the present was not to be found… and the past was colorful and great… I wanted to backslide… I tried to remain a child… I hated when I passed all my exams and counted among the adults…at last, tired of all things, and tired of myself, I knelt down by the Crucified… I inhaled His fragrance, the Bloody myrrh of worship… I touched His feet and so, at last, I found peace…May the Comforter give you the same! I love you!”


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