This fourth Sunday of Easter was a day full of grace and reflection. Sister Mary Claire and I rose with the dawn and attended Holy Mass at St. Ambrose in Des Moines. Father’s sermon on the Good Shepherd was deeply moving, reminding us of the ever-present guidance and protection of our Lord. I donned my Easter dress, feeling the joy of the Resurrection anew, as Sister nodded in approval, saying it was fitting for such a blessed Sunday.
Returning home, we listened intently to Bishop Barron's sermon, which echoed the themes of care and watchfulness we’d heard at Mass. His words always have a way of illuminating the scripture, making it resonate within my heart.
The afternoon was spent in quiet labor, as I turned pages and penned thoughts, slowly reweaving the tale of 'Catholic Crusoe.' I am determined, diary, to complete another chapter soon—this story is a small testament of my faith journey, mirroring the isolation and eventual redemption we all seek.
As dusk approached, Sister and I shared in the prayers from the intercourt prayer book. The words, worn from use, still felt fresh and urgent, as if each prayer was a new conversation with the Divine.
Now, as I lay me down to sleep, I offer a simple prayer of gratitude:
Heavenly Father, as the stars take their watch, I thank You for this day of Sundays. For the wisdom imparted by Father and Bishop Barron, for the sanctuary of St. Ambrose, and the comfort of home. I am grateful for Sister Mary Claire's enduring presence, for Tom's steadfastness, for Judy's laughter, and for every moment of companionship and solitude that shapes my faith. Bless them, Lord, as they have blessed me. In the quiet of this night, I find peace, and for this, I am eternally thankful. Amen.
Goodnight, dear diary, until tomorrow’s light.
Kathy
The afternoon was spent in quiet labor, as I turned pages and penned thoughts, slowly reweaving the tale of 'Catholic Crusoe.' I am determined, diary, to complete another chapter soon—this story is a small testament of my faith journey, mirroring the isolation and eventual redemption we all seek.
As dusk approached, Sister and I shared in the prayers from the intercourt prayer book. The words, worn from use, still felt fresh and urgent, as if each prayer was a new conversation with the Divine.
Now, as I lay me down to sleep, I offer a simple prayer of gratitude:
Heavenly Father, as the stars take their watch, I thank You for this day of Sundays. For the wisdom imparted by Father and Bishop Barron, for the sanctuary of St. Ambrose, and the comfort of home. I am grateful for Sister Mary Claire's enduring presence, for Tom's steadfastness, for Judy's laughter, and for every moment of companionship and solitude that shapes my faith. Bless them, Lord, as they have blessed me. In the quiet of this night, I find peace, and for this, I am eternally thankful. Amen.
Goodnight, dear diary, until tomorrow’s light.
Kathy
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