We have all know the long loneliness
And we have learned that the only solution is love
And that love comes in community.
-The Long Loneliness
I had come very far to find myself in this blind alley:
but the very anguish and helplessness of my position was something to
which I rapidly succumbed.
And it was my defeat that was to be the occasion of my rescue.
-Seven Story Mountain
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I don't 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 that 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 will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in
the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me
to face my perils alone.
-Thoughts in Solitude
May God support us all the day long
Till the shadows lengthen
And the evening comes
And the busy world is hushed
And the fever of life is over
And our work is done -
Then in mercy -
May God give us a safe lodging
And a holy rest
And peace at the last.
I stand by the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,
The door is the most important door in the world—
It is the door through which men walk when they find God.
There’s no use my going way inside and staying there,
When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind men,
With outstretched, groping hands.
Feeling for the door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it …
So I stand by the door.
The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for men to find that door—the door to God.
The most important thing any man can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch—the latch that only clicks
And opens to the man’s own touch.
Men die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter—
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it—live because they
have not found it,
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find him …
So I stand by the door.
Go in, great saints, go all the way in—
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics—
It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms,
And know the depth and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes I venture in a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening …
So I stand by the door.
There is another reason why I stand there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of his house devour them;
For God is so very great and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia,
And want to get out, “Let me out!” they cry.
And the people way inside only terrify them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they
Are spoiled for the old life, they have seen too much;
Once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving—preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them, too,
I stand by the door.
I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not yet even found the door,
Or the people who want to run away again from God.
You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear him, and know he is there,
But not so far from men as not to hear them,
And remember they are there, too.
Where? Outside the door—
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But—more important for me—
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
“I had rather be a door-keeper …”
So I stand by the door.
Because the Lord is my shepherd
I have everything I need
He lets me rest in the meadow
And leads me to the quiet streams
He restores my soul
And he leads me in the paths that are right
Lord, You are my shepherd
You are my friend
I want to follow You always
Just to follow, my friend
In love, You make me a banquet
For my enemies to see
You make me welcome
Pouring down honor from Your mighty hand
And this joy fills me with gladness
It is too much to bear
Lord, You are my shepherd
You are my friend
I want to follow You always
Just to follow, my friend
Your goodness always is with me
And Your mercy, I know
Your loving and kindness strengthens me
Always as I go through life
I shall dwell in Your presence forever
Giving praises to Your name
Lord, You are my shepherd
You are my friend
I want to follow You always
Just to follow, my friend