Outside my window the storm has passed. There was silence. Silence as thick as the blanket of snow that fell during that night. I sat up on my bed and entered the stillness. I had no more questions. I had no answers either. But I was filled with grace. With an inward silence, blessed by my angel after wrestling in the dark. The faith of this family, resonating with the steps in the stairwell, had quieted my fear and taken me by the hand.
CONTEMPLATIVES -- whether in monastic community or out in the marketplace -- not only help one another to grow grain and produce the bread of the body, but also bring one another to the spiritual ovens of solitude from which they are nourished with the hot, fresh Bread of the Spirit.
They not only press the grapes of their vineyards into material wine, but they lead one another to the eternal fountains of silence in which they drink the living waters and the rich wine of the Holy Spirit ... Thus, the Word of God comes silently into their midst, and eats and drinks with them.