me, a monk, and i

"my Lord God, i have no idea where i am going. i do not see the road ahead of me. i cannot know for certain where it will end. nor do i really know myself, and the fact that i think i am following your will does not mean that i am actually doing so. but i believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. and i hope i have that desire in all that i am doing. i hope that i will never do anything apart from that desire. and i know that, if i do this, You will lead me by the right road, though i may know nothing about it. therefore i will trust You always though i may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. i will not fear, you You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone."

"in one sense we are always traveling, and traveling as if we did not know where we were going.

in another sense we have already arrived.

we cannot arrive at the perfect possession of God in this life, and that is why we are traveling and in darkness. but we already possess Him by grace, and therefore, in that sense, we have arrived and are dwelling in the light.

But oh! how far have i to go to find You in Whom i have already arrived!"

"My God, i frankly do not understand your ways with me. you fill me with desires that people have been canonized for having and for carrying out. then You tell me to to carry them out, and You tell me in such a way that it would seem to be a sin if i carried them out. then You make the desires grow more and more until they consume the very foundations of my life. are You trying to kill me?"

"i will travel to You, Lord, through a thousand blind alleys.

You want to bring me to You through stone walls."

i've been reading "dialogues with silence" by thomas merton (all above quotes are written by merton).

outwardly, i have nothing in common with merton. he was a trappist monk who wore brown robes and lived on a commune. he was bald and probably gardened. i'm a girl living in vancouver with a growing collection of shoes and i like red sweaters. i live near the beach and don't pray for hours a day.

inwardly, i feel as though i am reading about my own inner struggle, though merton's writings are more than 50 years old and from a very different place. it is comforting to know that a guy who devoted his entire life to living strictly godly life struggled with solitude, silence, and finding God. i figured, if anyone has found God, it would be a monk in a scratchy robe.

i find comfort in these writings.

i am learning to sit in silence.

and in that silence, i am learning to hear the Spirit of God.

without Him ever saying a word.