Roman Catholic Spiritual Direction

Tag: Dryness

Dark night or depression?

Posted on January 22nd, 2012 by Sister Carmen Laudis OCD

Q: Dear Sister Carmen, I am struggling with prayer – it is very dry and I feel very alone but I have not given up. I believe I am in the dark night but I am also melancholy by temperament. How can I discern what I am experiencing? I don’t have access to a spiritual director because of my remote location. Am I depressed or in the dark night or both? I know you can’t know everything about my situation via this simple question – can you point me in the right direction?

A: Dear Friend, You are right in saying that I can’t know everything about your situation. Each of us is an unrepeatable individual unique among all persons living today, those who have lived before us and those yet to come. God has created us and in so doing has a plan for each of us. We want to live our lives in accordance with that plan and thus seek to discern how the Holy Spirit is leading us. A good spiritual director, if available, can be of invaluable help in this.

I can only give you the signposts that are general standards for growth in the spiritual life and there are many variations in these in the way that God chooses to work in the individual soul.

Before discussing dryness in prayer let us back up a little and summarize some of what has already been said. We have been dealing with the beginning mansions of the Interior Castle of which the first three Mansions form a special grouping. These three are a preparation for entrance into the Fourth Mansion in which one experiences the Prayer of Quiet. Teresa provides us with visual images to describe the work to be done either actively or passively as one journeys toward union with God. She applies a universal image in trying to express her thoughts, that of “water”. What she terms the First Water is applied to the first three Mansions. She compares the work done here to one who obtains water from the well by means of lowering and pulling up the bucket – hard work – but in Teresa’s day necessary if that was the only means at hand to obtain the precious water. How important was the water to the individual? Certainly a matter of life and death!

Thus in the spiritual life how important is our union with God to exercise the labor needed to reach our goal? The grace of God is there for us just as the water is in the depth of the well. Are we willing to use the means at hand to draw it up? Such means are: overcoming patterns of sin, practice of prayer, strengthening our sacramental life, practicing the Presence of God, cultivation of the virtues, bringing our wills into conformity with the will of Christ, detachment from worldly desires, practice of charity, etc. All of these are within the aid of ordinary grace. Much of the work here is “active work”, work we must do, with the help of God’s grace. And it is often slow work for growth takes time.

While all of us at one time or another may have experienced some form of consolation in prayer, however fleeting, the spiritual life is of too great a value to be an easy road. There is much hard work to be done especially in the first three mansions. It is here where we test the honesty and validity of our desire for a deeper relationship with God. Any relationship that is worthwhile takes profound commitment and arduous work on our part.

Now to get to the crux of your question! Why does wanting a deeper prayer life mean that often my prayer will be dry? And how do I determine whether this dryness is a result of spiritual growth or an effect of my melancholic temperament?

Can someone be going through the Dark Night and be experiencing melancholy at the same time? After all, many saints had a melancholic temperament. Regardless of our temperament each type has both strengths and weaknesses and of itself temperament does not stand in the way of spiritual growth. It is a part of what makes us the person we are. What we are referring to here is not our temperament but a form of melancholia or depression which can affect someone regardless of their temperament type. Yes, it is possible for someone to be going through both at the same time but it is not the usual case. Difficulties may be a source of suffering for us but not every suffering is the Dark Night.

If dryness is the result of one’s spiritual growth in prayer, the person will still have that strong desire to give him/her self totally to God through perseverance in prayer even when the senses feel no delight. Joy can also be experienced in suffering. On the other hand, melancholy closes the person in on self so that rather than seeking solitude to be alone with God in a loving relationship the person develops an unhealthy separation from others.

Generosity becomes a key word here. The one growing in prayer may not have a sense perception of the graces being received because the body is not perfectly conformed to the spirit and these graces are often very gentle and subtle, but the person is moved outwardly toward God and in service to others. Even if the person feels no delight in prayer the habitual attitude is to “give” rather than to “receive”, a characteristic quality of love. On the other hand,  dryness which results from melancholy turns the person inward on self suffocating the spiritual life.

Consolations may seem more pleasurable and are sometimes given by God because of our weakness. We give a small reward to a child to help them persevere in reaching their goal. It takes humility to walk in dryness recognizing our human frailty. But the strength we gain in the practice of fortitude draws us into closer conformity with Christ. If our path were to be strewn with consolations, what might be the deceptions that would assail us? The example of St. Bernadette is helpful here. Although the apparent rejection of her Novice Mistress was painful to her, she recognized that had she been treated as a favored one, it might have stunted her spiritual growth. The lack of human consolation enabled her to identify more closely with Christ Crucified.  If God leads us by the road of dryness it is because He knows what is best for us. We must have confidence that He seeks our happiness even more than we do ourselves.

In union of prayer,

Sister Carmen Laudis, O.C.D.

PS: To learn more about the Carmelite Sisters visit our web site: www.carmelitesistersocd.com and for more information please contact the sisters at contact@carmelitesistersocd.com, or 626-289-1353 Ext. 246, 920 East Alhambra Road, Alhambra, California 91801.

Consolation and Desolation: What does it really mean?

Posted on November 7th, 2011 by Father John Bartunek

Q: Dear Father John, I know you wrote before about consolation and Hope and Despair by Evelyn De Morgandesolation in the spiritual life.  But I have a follow-up question.  When we experience some kind of desolation, how do we know where it’s coming from?  I mean, how do we know whether it’s really from God or not?

A: This is a great question – and an important one, for Christians in today’s society.

Consolation and Desolation: Grasping the Terms

First, we have to have a quick review of what we mean by “consolation and desolation” in the spiritual life.  Usually, these terms refer to the felt presence of God in our soul (consolation), or the absence of that feeling (desolation).  By faith we know that God is always thinking of us, with us, interested in our lives, and loving us with a personal, determined love.  We know that by faith.  But we don’t always feel that in our emotional world.  In fact, sometimes we can feel an intense and painful emptiness inside.  Sometimes we can feel absolutely no excitement or pleasure at the thought of spiritual things.  Sometimes we can feel dry as a desert even when we are at prayer: emotionally, we don’t even want to keep praying.  We are like children with their homework: they know it is good for them to do it, and they know they should do it, but they just don’t feel like doing it.

This lack of the felt presence of God, a lack of emotional pleasure or resonance regarding God’s will for us, is usually referred to by spiritual writers as sensible desolation.  The contrary is sensible consolation.

Now we can get to your question.  If you are experiencing desolation, it can come from a variety of sources.  Simply knowing what those sources are can help us reflect on one’s personal situation and, usually, identify its source.

Our Own Fault

First, desolation can be caused by our own sin.  We may be inordinately attached to something: some habit, some relationship, some hope, some fear, even some hobby or pastime that may not be evil in itself… Or we may have committed some sin that we haven’t confessed or repented of yet.  Sooner or later, disordered attachments will interfere with our relationship with God.  God loves us too much to let us idolize anything for long.  If we are following him, when the time is right he will speak to our conscience about putting that disordered room in our soul back into order.  During the struggle to decide whether or not to obey what he is asking of us, we can experience desolation, because as we dilly-dally, our hearts are divided.  In this case, we are actually pushing God away, and the desolation is our own fault.  This happens frequently in the early stages of the spiritual life, but can return with a vengeance even after much growth, when the spiritualized capital sins attempt to re-conquer the soul.

At times, it is hard to identify disordered attachments.  If you are praying regularly (including at least an annual spiritual retreat), doing a regular examination of conscience, going to confession on a regular basis, and receiving some kind of spiritual direction (or at least you have a friend or small group of friends to whom you make yourself spiritually accountable), and following the commandments of God and the Church, you should be able to recognize these disordered attachments when the Holy Spirit points them out to you.  If you are not following those basic spiritual practices, your desolation may have this cause, and I would recommend renewing your commitment to these means for spiritual growth that all spiritual writers recommend.

Our Fallen Nature’s Fault

Second, desolation can flow from advancing self-knowledge.  As we grow in the spiritual life, God allows us to know ourselves better and better.  We begin to see just how deep our self-centered tendencies really go.  We begin to see just how vulnerable we are to temptations of vanity, pride, and sensuality.  We begin to see just how helpless we really are, when it comes to growth in holiness, without the constant aid of God’s grace.  This can create a disturbance in our relationship with God, because we no longer feel worthy of the great love he has for us.  We truly love God.  We truly want to follow him.  But when we resist approaching him because we have discovered that we actually don’t “deserve” to be loved so unconditionally we begin to stumble. It’s like the spouse who has been unfaithful and has difficulty accepting their spouse’s forgiveness, or the mother who has aborted her child and simply can’t seem to accept God’s mercy.  But in this stage of the spiritual life, the specific cause of the interior resistance is often less clear.  Here again, we end up separating ourselves from God.

This hurdle has to be faced and overcome, in order to become spiritually mature.  You have probably already detected the real source of the spiritual reluctance that comes from this situation.  It is a subtle form of pride.  And the enemy of our souls will often seize on this, stir it up, and try to exaggerate it.  The truly humble soul responds to its own unworthiness with peace and joy, throwing itself into God’s arms with total abandon, totally conscious of its absolute need for God’s grace, and contentedly aware of God’s delight in showing mercy to his needy children.

The deep interior resistance so many people experience when it comes to activating that kind of abandonment shows just how difficult developing the virtue of humility really is.  It is the bedrock of the spiritual life, and digging foundations is never fun.  But you can do it.  Read the lives of the saints (especially St. Therese of Lisieux’s Story of a Soul and St. Faustina’s Diary).  Read the Psalms.  And get on your knees in front of the Eucharist, simply learning to trust more deeply in God’s goodness by exercising whatever level of trust you can as you gaze at Our Lord, who has chosen to be there for you, no matter what.

The Doctor at Work

Finally, desolation can flow from God’s direct action on the soul.  God can take away the consolation of his presence, without actually taking away his presence.  This is a method he uses to purify the soul and to increase the soul’s capacity for love.  If we can keep following God’s will in our lives even when we are passing through “a valley as dark as death” (Psalm 23:4), we will emerge with a much more mature faith, a more vibrant hope, and a deeper love.  These are the theological virtues that unite the soul to God – and union with God is what we were created for, and what God yearns us to achieve and deepen.

So when he takes away interior consolation in this way, we can rest assured that his wisdom and goodness will permit us, when emerged from the darkness, to undergo greater consolations than we ever imagined, because our soul’s capacity to experience God will have been increased by God directly.  These periods of purification initiated by God are often called the “dark night.”  We can have dark nights of the senses, of the spirit, of the intellect… It is when God, the doctor of our soul, lays us on the spiritual operating table and takes direct action.  Our job in this case is to trust and endure by continuing to seek and embrace God’s will in our lives (the commandments, the duties of our state in life, etc…).  The recent book on Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Come Be My Light: The Private Writings of the Saint of Calcutta, chronicles a truly amazing journey through this kind of darkness.

I hope these reflections have helped you identify both where your current desolation is coming from, and how to react to it.  If not, I recommend taking up the prayer Jesus taught us through St. Faustina, and making it the constant refrain of your heart and mind throughout this season of your spiritual journey: “Jesus, I trust in you.”

Sayings of Light and Love #14

Posted on May 27th, 2011 by Dan Burke

God values in you the inclination to dryness and suffering for love of him more than all the consolations, spiritual visions, and meditations you could possibly have.

Saint John of the Cross

More ”Sayings of Light and Love”

 

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Dryness in Prayer – Part III – God’s Part in the Struggle

Posted on May 18th, 2009 by Father John Bartunek

desert-tree-sophie-jacobsonQ: Dear Father John, I have been praying (mental prayer) for a long time.  But lately I seem to be experiencing dryness in my prayer – I just don’t seem to get as much out of it as I used to.  Is this the “dark night of the soul”?  If not, what’s going on, and what should I do?

Lack of consolation in prayer (also known as dryness) may be a result of un-confessed and un-repented sin, or it may come from sloppiness or laziness in our effort to pray.  But if we are making a reasonable effort to do our part, and yet we still don’t experience (or stop experiencing) consolation, it’s probably God’s fault, not ours.

God is not a vending machine; he doesn’t have to reveal himself to us in a tangible way every time we try to press his buttons.  This is one of the big differences between Christianity and many other religions.  In pagan religions, for example, the gods were obliged to respond to worshippers in a certain way, if the worshipper performed a specific ritual, likewise in Satan worship.  But Christ isn’t like that.  We can’t control him.  He can hold us back from feeling his presence in our souls, even when we are sincerely and conscientiously doing our part.

Why?  Why would he allow us to experience dryness in prayer?  Because he wants our love for him to mature.  At times, we can become subtly attached to our experience of God in prayer – to the consolations that we feel as we gaze upon his beauty or taste his goodness.  Subconsciously, we can begin to seek those consolations even more than their source.  We begin to value the gifts of God more than the God who gives them, like the little child who enjoys Uncle Ernie’s company because Uncle Ernie always gives out candy.  Candy is a good sign of Uncle Ernie’s goodness and love for a child, but getting to know Uncle Ernie better and developing a more mature relationship with him means learning to go beyond the gum-drops.

When God withholds consolations, he is purifying us of this subtle attachment to our feelings, so that our faith can grow and mature.  To become mature Christians, we must learn more and more to “walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).  In this context of spiritual growth, dryness in prayer is an opportunity to truly adore God himself, regardless of personal preferences and satisfactions.  The mature love is the love that “lays down its life for the beloved” (John 15:13), not the love that “has no root deep down and does not last, should some trial come…” (Mark 4:17).  Dryness is an invitation to give ourselves to God, putting aside our desire to get things from him.

Doing Our Part Amid Dryness

When God sends us this kind of purification, our reaction should be like a patient on an operating table.  We must not try to avoid the often painful dryness, nor panic in the midst of it.  Rather, we should persevere in our good efforts, trusting that the wise doctor of our souls is hard at work in ways that we cannot see or feel, healing us of spiritual cancers that we may not even know we have.  (St. Ignatius of Loyola used to advise keeping to the exact minute of the time reserved to meditation whether we experience immense consolation or immense desolation.)  This is what spiritual writers call “passive purification.”  Active purification is when we consciously deny our natural inclinations in order to follow Christ more closely (see our blog posts on mortification).  Passive purification is when God puts us into the fire in order to burn away impurities that are beyond our reach.  The result is marvelous: purified silver is more fully itself after being put through the fire; we become more fully what God made us to be after he purifies us.  But the process is often painful.

When this dryness occurs for long periods of time on the level of emotions or imagination, it is sometimes referred as the “dark night of the senses.”  The “dark night” is an image that St. John of the Cross used to sum up the whole phenomenon of dryness and passive purification.  When this dryness occurs for long periods of time on the level of intellect and will (see part I of these posts on dryness in prayer for an explanation of these different faculties), it is sometimes referred to as the “dark night of the soul,” since these two faculties are the superior, spiritual faculties of the human soul.

St. John of the Cross went into great detail about the signs by which authentic dark nights can be distinguished from dryness that comes from other sources.  In summary, they are as follows: 1) we find no consolation in the things of God, but neither do we find any in the things of the world; 2) we find ourselves still attending very carefully to our prayer commitments, and our anxiety comes because we fear we are not serving him well; 3) we find ourselves unable (at least for unusually long periods of time) to make reflections and considerations when we go to mental prayer, as if our minds were somehow paralyzed.  In these three areas, however, it is difficult for us to diagnose ourselves; it’s like trying to look at our backs in a mirror.

Two Tangents

Two more observations are needed before leaving this topic. First, those who are taking their spiritual lives seriously and striving to grow in prayer can sometimes be distracted by trying to figure out exactly where they are in the various stages of spiritual growth.  It’s as if they think that having the perfect label will make their efforts more fruitful and helpful.  This can be a pitfall.  Because we are all individuals, and God leads us through unique paths of spiritual growth, it is not always easy to fit our real experience perfectly into the abstract categories that theology has to use to reflect systematically on these issues.  We can become obsessed with finding the right label, instead of staying focused on loving God through prayer and action in obedience to his will.  It is helpful to understand more and more the principles in the spiritual life, because then we can understand ourselves better as we begin to identify how those principles are at work in our experience.  Yet, spiritual naval-gazing is unhelpful.  This is one reason why spiritual direction is such a useful tool.  It helps keeps us objective and balanced in our efforts to discern how God is acting in our lives.

Second, those Christians who are living out their vocation to holiness as lay men and women often receive their purification in ways other than the “dark nights” of the senses and the soul.  The suffering and the struggles for fidelity to Christ that come with the vocation to marriage can be acute.  The suffering and struggles that come in one’s effort to build Christ’s Kingdom through work, community, and professional activities can also be acute.  God can use those struggles and that suffering to perform his purification-operations.  He is not limited to using dryness in prayer.  This is one more reason why we should be wary of spiritual naval-gazing.  The key to spiritual growth is accepting, embracing, and fulfilling God’s will moment by moment, not anticipating how God will work in us and then forcing him to follow our expectations.  We must let the Doctor do his work, without demanding that he first teach us the whole science of medicine.

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC

Dryness in Prayer – Part II – Our Part in the Struggle

Posted on May 4th, 2009 by Father John Bartunek

desert-tree-sophie-jacobsonQ: Dear Father John, I have been praying (mental prayer) for a long time.  But lately I seem to be experiencing dryness in my prayer – I just don’t seem to get as much out of it as I used to.  Is this the “dark night of the soul”?  If not, what’s going on, and what should I do?

Dryness in prayer is the contrary of consolation (the sense of satisfaction that God gives our emotions, imagination, intellect and will when we encounter his truth, goodness, and beauty).  Dryness is the absence or lessening of those consolations, either every once in awhile, or for long periods of time.  And the Catechism identifies dryness as one of the key obstacles in prayer.  But we won’t be able to understand how to deal with the obstacle unless we understand, at least a little bit, what causes it.

Dryness in prayer surfaces for one of two reasons: because of us, or because of God.  Let’s start with the first reason.

When the Going Gets Tough

When we aren’t making a reasonable effort to do our part in the quest of prayer, dryness happens because of us.  At times in the spiritual life, especially (but not only) at the beginning, God sends frequent and intense consolation to our souls.  It is like a courtship, and he is courting us.  He sends us flowers, gives us candy, takes us out on beautiful dates (in the spiritual sense).  He is trying to convince us of his goodness, wisdom, and power.  He is trying to win us over.  As our relationship deepens, we realize that following God involves not just getting good gifts from him, but giving him the gift of ourselves.  This we do through obeying his commandments and his will, through following his example, growing in virtue, building up the Church, loving our neighbor… All these things, since they are based on our desire to grow in our friendship with the One who is calling us, takes an effort on our part.  We have to freely choose to respond to God’s action in our lives; it’s not automatic (if it were automatic, it wouldn’t be a relationship of love, or friendship).

As this journey continues, we sometimes grow weary.  We begin to hanker after the “onions of Egypt,” as the Israelites did during their sojourn in the wilderness on their way to the Promised Land.  We long for an easier life, for the pleasures of self-indulgence, for the seductive comforts and passing gratifications that thirty pieces of silver can purchase for us.  Moments like these are crucial for spiritual growth. They give us a chance to mature our love for God, to grow up a little bit more.  But the tug of our fallen nature, egged on by the glitter of popular culture and the twittering of the devil on our interior homepage, is strong.

Getting Sloppy

One reaction that we can have in these times is to begin simply going through the motions in our prayer life.  On the surface, we are continuing with the same prayer commitments that we have always kept, commitments that have the blessing of our spiritual director.  And yet, we start fulfilling them in a routine way, not making a concerted effort to concentrate on our vocal prayers, for instance, or not carefully following the method of our mental prayer.  We get careless.  We don’t prepare the material for our meditation ahead of time.  We don’t guard our interior silence during the day.  We cut off a couple of minutes now and then from our meditation, or toy with involuntary distractions instead of putting forth the necessary effort to deflect them… Sometimes this diminishing effort is extremely subtle, even subconscious.  Sometimes it is glaringly obvious: we are avoiding looking into God’s eyes because of an un-repented and un-confessed sin (dishonesty, infidelity, impurity, disordered ambition, willful consent to self-righteous anger or envy…).  Whether subtle or flagrant, slacking off in our reasonable efforts to pay attention to God when we pray will often inhibit us from hearing his voice.  Not always, because God can make himself heard even when we’re not listening, but almost always.

Sidestepping Along

When our inbox is overly cluttered, we lose motivation to roll up our sleeves and get to work, so we procrastinate or look for busy-work to distract ourselves.  This inhibits us from experiencing the satisfaction that comes from a job well done, from meeting goals and following objective priorities.  Likewise in the spiritual life.  When we hit a steep section of the road as we’re following Christ, we can stray off to the side, take a rest, or even go looking for a shortcut, though we know very well that our Lord is standing on the upgrade beckoning us forward.  Until we get back on track, we won’t be able to experience the consolation God has for us, because we won’t be meeting God (the source of consolation) where he is waiting to meet us.

Think of a gymnast who reaches a plateau in her training.  Her coach knows that she needs to maintain the same effort that she was putting out while she was making visible, rapid progress.  But she starts getting discouraged, precisely because her progress isn’t so rapid and visible at the moment.  If she trusts her coach and perseveres, soon she will be beyond the plateau, achieving higher levels of excellence and experiencing the satisfaction that goes with it.  The coach can encourage her, but in the end she has to decide if she will keep putting forth the effort, doing her part.

The First Question

So this is the first question we need to ask ourselves if we are experiencing dryness in prayer:  Am I still doing my part?  Or has some un-confessed sin or subtle self-pity – or just plain laziness (be humble) – drained my efforts?  To find an objective answer to that question, it is often helpful to go over our prayer commitments with our spiritual director, to describe how we are praying the Rosary, the Mass, the meditation, the morning offering…  It can also be useful to go over the basic guidelines of prayer again, e.g. reading The Fundamentals of Christian Meditation from the first section of The Better Part. (For your convenience, I have included a checklist below that can help remind you of what doing your part in the daily meditation entails.)

If you discover that, indeed, you have been slacking off a bit.  Don’t be afraid!  Bring it up in confession, and then make some small adjustments to your commitments that will help motivate you to get back in the swing.  For example, change the book you are using to help you meditate, or the place of your morning prayer, or the time of day, or buy yourself a new Rosary…  A fresh start can be sparked without these kinds of external tricks, but they can sometimes help.

If, on the other hand, after a calm and objective self-evaluation, you are convinced that you are still making a reasonable effort to do your part, then the dryness you are experiencing probably isn’t because of you, it’s probably because of God.  Next time, we will talk about why God sometimes withholds his consolations.  (By the way, I keep saying “reasonable effort” because that’s all God asks of us.  Some people tend to think that if their effort isn’t perfect in every way, it isn’t reasonable. That’s not true.  God knows we are not angels.)

…[from "The Better Part: A Christ-Centered Resource for Personal Prayer"]… On any given day, then, measuring whether your meditation went well or badly is not so easy.  Your meditation may have been quite pleasing to God and full of grace for your soul even when it was unpleasant and difficult from a strictly emotional perspective.  An athlete may have a great practice session even though it was painful and frustrating – likewise with a daily meditation.

The best we can do is to give some indicators below.  The most important thing, though, is simply to keep striving to pray better.  Speak about your prayer life in spiritual direction and confession, and trust that if you are sincerely doing all your best, the Holy Spirit will do the rest.

My meditation went badly when I…

  • Didn’t plan ahead regarding what material I would use, when and where I would meditate, turn off my cell phone, etc.
  • Simply gave in to the many distractions that vied for my attention
  • Let myself fall asleep
  • Skipped over the first step, Concentrate, or did it sloppily – how can my prayer go well if I am not keenly aware of God’s presence?
  • Didn’t humbly ask God to help me and to give me whatever graces I need to continue growing in my spiritual life
  • Spent the whole time reading, thinking or daydreaming, and didn’t stop to ask what God was saying to me and to respond from my heart
  • Tried to stir up fuzzy feelings and intense emotions instead of conversing heart-to-heart on the level of faith
  • Didn’t renew my commitment to Christ and his Kingdom at the end of the meditation
  • Shortened the time I had committed to without a really important reason

My meditation went well when I…

  • Actually fulfilled the commitment I have made to spend a certain amount of time in meditation every day
  • Faithfully followed the methodology in spite of tiredness, distractions, dryness, or any other difficulty, or if it was impossible to follow the four-step method, I did my best to give praise to God in whatever way I could throughout my meditation time
  • Stayed with the points of consideration that struck me most as long as I found material there for reflection and conversation
  • Was seeking only to know and love Christ better, so as to be able to follow him better
  • Made sure to speak to Christ from my heart about whatever I was meditating on (or whatever was most on my heart), even when it was hard to find the words
  • Was completely honest in my conversation – I didn’t say things to God just out of routine or because I wanted to impress him with my eloquence; I told him what was really in my heart
  • Made a sincere effort to listen to what God was saying to me throughout the time of prayer, seeking applications for my own life, circumstances, needs, and challenges
  • Finished the meditation more firmly convinced of God’s goodness and more firmly committed to doing my best to follow him faithfully

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC