I am writing from the House of Peace, the main house at Mt. Irenaeus. I have come here for a time away from, a retreat, on the Feast of St. Nicholas. It has been several years since I’ve been on a retreat like this. It’s just a day of quiet in a still spot with some of the most peaceful and holy men I know. It’s cold and snowy here, but I am wrapped in the warmth of this peaceful home on a mountain whose very name means peaceful. The prayer of St. Irenaeus hangs over my desk at work ever reminding me of this place and the presence of God in my life.
It is not thou that shapest God
it is God that shapest thee.
If thou art the work of God
await the hand of the artist
who does all things in due season.
Offer Him thy heart,
soft and tractable,
and keep the form
in which the artist has fashioned thee.
Let thy clay be moist,
lest thou grow hard
and lose the imprint of his fingers.
– St. Irenaeus
In two days time I will begin my 56th year. I have come here to rest and to contemplate the direction of my life. I have come here to pray for peace too. I pray for a young man recently assigned to Iraq and for his family.