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| Homer, Alaska |
Places in everyone's journey can feel
colorless, difficult, and lonely from time to time.
Recently this sweet little Welsh prayer (200-1,000 ad)
brought me comfort like only the Celtic can:
As the rain hides the stars,
as the autumn mist hides the hills,
as the clouds veil the blue of the sky,
so the dark happenings of my lot hide
the shining of your face from me.
Yet, if I may hold your hand in the darkness,
it is enough, since I know that,
though I may stumble in my going,
you do not fall.
From A Book of Prayers, Praxis Publication 1999
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