Tonight, we set our clocks back an hour. Autumn is reaching its end. Winter is approaching. The sun is further away from us each day and its warmth lessens. The trees are ever more rapidly shedding their vividly-coloured tapestry of leaves. The migrating birds are gone. Outside my window, our two squirrels are hoarding horse chestnuts all day long. The light is changing and colours are fading. Nature is entering into its time of rest. We've come to the point of the year when the nights are longest, when we have more time in darkness than in daylight. This year, perhaps, we are each living that longest night with a greater intensity. These are dark times in the life of each and every person. This long, seemingly endless, time of pandemic and repeated lockdowns, is not easy. And my spirit is jangled - often. Tonight, as I sat in our convent chapel in the darkness, my spirit was not at peace. I cried. I told God what God knows already. In a quiet whisper, I poured out my pain: &q
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