-Lord, let me come and join you in that land which beckons me, in those fields that I love.
-No, it is in this town that you must meet me.
-Lord, I long for the sun and the wilde flowers over there.
-I only have this black sky and these thorns to give you.
-But Lord, there is only noise and smoke here.
-There is something else as well; there is sin.
-Lord, I would so like to see again the blue water that you knew!
-Here, hearts are sick and souls are dying in darkness.
Lord, I could perhaps stay if you entered into my heart, if you took my hand. But when I see these streets […] my whole being revolts and escapes in thought over there. Must I therefore still stay here, with my sadness and my loneliness?
-My child, is it so difficult to decide? And to walk where I walk?”
(“Sunday Letters”, Lev Gillet, ‘A Monk of the Eastern Church’ by Elisabeth Behr-Sigel, p23)
* Dedicated to my spiritual father
This dedication, initially made on 10/6/2017, holds true of course, only yesterday, when I re-discovered these letters last night, I thought every single iota of these verses was written for me! Piercing my heart … Each time, returning here is becoming increasingly difficult …
. We are all pilgrims in a foreign land.
!Such a brave little Robin.
But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Saviour from there….,