He believed, hoping against hope… ~ Of Abraham, Romans 4:18
Today, on this feast of St. Joseph, I ask for the gift of Abraham’s faith. May this asking go far, not confined merely to my heart and to those I carry in it, but to every corner of the world, to flowering fields and into shadows. Where hope is new. Where it is unformed. Even where it is strong and growing. Where it is shattered and dying.
Joseph was bequeathed this very gift, and throughout his life, he burnished this faith – not by blind fanaticism – but by the oil of humility and obedience. Not by refusing to ponder or question what he did not understand, but by asking for illumination and waiting for it.
We all have need of this faith, this faith of old, this faith of the Fathers.
writingonmyheart 