The Restory Retreat Centre

Photograph by Brian Sano Somehow, amidst the filling out of forms and checking my to-do-list, I left my wallet behind in the post office yesterday, after registering a letter. By the time I realised it and rushed back, it was gone. Along with bank cards and my driver’s license. Back home we discovered that the second pair of trousers that we had bought for my dad, with all the outer tags corresponding with the tags of the pair he tried on in the store, is in actual fact two sizes smaller. The health of Matilda’s father is a matter of great concern to us. We were reminded yesterday that on different levels he struggles to cope with life’s challenges.   Buried among all of this and despite the frustrations, I believe there is harvest and material that can contribute to my growth. But the moving from believing to applying – there’s the rub. I return to an old theme that I touched on previously in This is it and God disguised . How to read our lives. How t...

Sitting in a restaurant, Daniel J. O’Leary writes: “The Budweiser tastes weak; the cajun-style chicken is spicy and tasty. It is stifling hot outside; the air-conditioning inside is heaven. A small child’s face is all crumpled up with loss and fear – she has just inadvertently burst her red balloon. Her sister offers her own. One grandparent chides her; the other smiles. There’s music in the background – country and western songs from the sixties. A murmur of conversation. The telephone rings. A loud laugh draws attention to itself. Another car sweeps into the parking lot. Bright with smiles, energy, mutual adoration and jewelry, two young black people flow out of the car and dance into The Village Inn. The telephone rings again. I come back to my thoughts. So this is it. If I’m right, here in front of me the true nature of God is being revealed. Right here and right now the paschal mystery is gradually unfolding in all its ordinariness and in all its glory. All I have to do...