The practice of paying attention is the rarest of gifts because it depends upon the harshest of disciplines. So uncommon is it for us to grasp the beauty and mystery of ordinary things that, when we finally do so, it often brings us to the verge of tears. Appalled by our own poverty, we awake in wonder to a splendor of which we had never dreamed.
The gift of contemplation is eternally given; it is always there... It is that moment when the ache in my heart becomes so intense that I can no longer bear it. And in that moment, I cry out in my agony to the One I never knew and have always known. It is the moment when the depth of the ache becomes the depth of the knowing, the moment when I know that I am in the Presence of God.