A prayerful life is not a life in which we say many prayers, but a life in which nothing, absolutely nothing, is done, said, or understood independently of him who is the origin and purpose of our existence.

So I am praying while not knowing how to pray. I am resting while feeling restless, at peace while tempted, safe while still anxious, surrounded by a cloud of light while still in darkness, in love while still doubting.

Solitude is the place where we can connect with profound bonds that are deeper than the emergency bonds of fear and anger.

Prayer is not a pious decoration of life but the breath of human existence.

We want to prove we are good writers or good business, good parents or good teachers. The world is very competitive and catches us in this frenzy. It wants us to go here, be there, and be part of this or that.

Solitude is the furnace of transformation.

I am working on three things: on being a prayerful person; on staying close to the handicapped; and on my writing. These are my constant concerns.