“Sergius of Radonezh was born with the given name of Bartholomew sometime around 1314. (We really only know the date of his death, and he reportedly died at the age of 78.  His older brother Stefan had chosen the monastic life, and Sergei followed suit, being given the name of Sergius (Sergei).  Yet almost from the get-go he started persuading Stefan that the two of them should move to a more secluded spot to practice their vocation, and eventually the two of them settled in the woods.”

“Last week we saw God provide them with meat and bread, manna and quail that fell from the sky, and all the Israelites had to do was go and pick it up. Today, it’s water—or, specifically, the perceived lack of it. Gripe, gripe, gripe. Complain, complain, complain.”

“Try as I might to treat my fishing as prayer, to maintain centered focus, I think it was not I but God who was praying. True, enough – there has not been a day in my life spent outdoors that did not feel like a day spent in prayer. To paraphrase the apostle, I find it impossible to peek into the heavens without experiencing the Divine. God was with me, I’m sure of it, but not so much in the bobber of my concentration as above me. In the eagle. In the hawk and osprey. Along the shore, in the deer. Watching me curiously.”

“Help me, Lord, to be open to your beauty, 
and to trust that there’s always more to come.”