Dear Diary,
Today was one of those days that warns of winter’s icy fingers stretching closer. The cold wind howled outside, rattling the windows, and it was clear November was ready to settle in. Inside, though, we kept warm. I busied myself with chores around the house, but the best way to take my mind off the biting cold was by remembering Father’s homily from this morning. He read from the Gospel of Luke, and as he spoke, I could almost see the scene in my mind.
The reading told of Jesus traveling from town to town, teaching as He went. Someone asked Him, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" And He answered with a story, saying to strive to enter through the narrow door, for many would try to enter but would not be strong enough. I could almost hear Jesus’ voice, gentle but firm, as He explained that once the master of the house locks the door, there would be no getting in for those who had not made the effort when they had the chance. Father said it wasn’t just a warning but a reminder to live every day with purpose, like each step leads toward that narrow door, where Jesus waits with open arms.
As I thought about it, I felt that tug to walk a little closer with Him, like each small choice matters, especially in the days ahead when the cold may make me want to huddle up and think only of my own comforts. There’s something about knowing Jesus is waiting that makes me feel braver, even on a blustery day like this.
After Mass, I made sure Brown Hen and all her roommates were cozy in the coop, with fresh straw on the floor and in their nests. The wind outside grew wilder as the day went on, and I knew soon I’d have to gather eggs twice a day to keep them from freezing. For now, though, the hens seemed content, fluffed up in their new bedding as if they sensed the chill and were glad for their shelter.
As evening crept in and the wind kept howling, I sat quietly with my prayers, thinking about the narrow door and asking for the strength to walk toward it each day.
Evening Prayer:
Lord, please keep me close to You on this journey, with each choice and each step. Shelter me and all of Your creatures from the cold that lies ahead, and let me find warmth in Your love. Give me courage to seek the narrow door with a trusting heart. Amen.
Today was one of those days that warns of winter’s icy fingers stretching closer. The cold wind howled outside, rattling the windows, and it was clear November was ready to settle in. Inside, though, we kept warm. I busied myself with chores around the house, but the best way to take my mind off the biting cold was by remembering Father’s homily from this morning. He read from the Gospel of Luke, and as he spoke, I could almost see the scene in my mind.
The reading told of Jesus traveling from town to town, teaching as He went. Someone asked Him, "Lord, will only a few people be saved?" And He answered with a story, saying to strive to enter through the narrow door, for many would try to enter but would not be strong enough. I could almost hear Jesus’ voice, gentle but firm, as He explained that once the master of the house locks the door, there would be no getting in for those who had not made the effort when they had the chance. Father said it wasn’t just a warning but a reminder to live every day with purpose, like each step leads toward that narrow door, where Jesus waits with open arms.
As I thought about it, I felt that tug to walk a little closer with Him, like each small choice matters, especially in the days ahead when the cold may make me want to huddle up and think only of my own comforts. There’s something about knowing Jesus is waiting that makes me feel braver, even on a blustery day like this.
After Mass, I made sure Brown Hen and all her roommates were cozy in the coop, with fresh straw on the floor and in their nests. The wind outside grew wilder as the day went on, and I knew soon I’d have to gather eggs twice a day to keep them from freezing. For now, though, the hens seemed content, fluffed up in their new bedding as if they sensed the chill and were glad for their shelter.
As evening crept in and the wind kept howling, I sat quietly with my prayers, thinking about the narrow door and asking for the strength to walk toward it each day.
Evening Prayer:
Lord, please keep me close to You on this journey, with each choice and each step. Shelter me and all of Your creatures from the cold that lies ahead, and let me find warmth in Your love. Give me courage to seek the narrow door with a trusting heart. Amen.
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