You have enabled me to write about “our experience,” an experience often disguised as ordinary, yet varying in colors and seasons. We have touched persons scattered throughout this world proclaiming Your Kingdom and a destiny of spontaneous joy.
I feel like we have only begun. Dawn appears on the horizon and the hours of light are before us. It is time to run, to sing, to love. But where do I begin? You are quiet these days which makes me wonder if this whole thing is a dream. My God, please save me from another illusion!
For so long I have only lived and thought about myself. Is the same true with my writing? I am tired of all these false gods, and of all the incense that is burned before them.
I will write only for You, because without You, even the stars fall asleep and nighttime is devoid of romance.
Fr. Jeremiah Myriam Shryock, CFR
St. Felix Friary, Yonkers, New York