In the silence of our prayerful hearts, we stand empty and are so able to hear God knocking at the door and longing to come inside. Too many words insulate us from our inner poverty. Too many words drown out the sound of God's voice at the door.
Sometimes compassion compels us to confront, sometimes to cajole, sometimes to be silent and wait, sometimes to do or say what it would never occur to our egocentric self to do or say, for we can never say for certain in advance just how compassionate love may prompt us to act, to see, and accept within ourselves and others. Yet, in our willingness to recognize and go forth to identify with the preciousness of ourselves and others in our collective frailty, we discover our contemplative community in the intimate texture of our daily interactions with one another.