by Howard Hain
I have been practicing a new offense. For I am often ambushed at night, by ugly dreams and even uglier and terrifying thoughts. I awake. I arise. I calmly identify the area the sniper is attempting to exploit, the area the spy is trying to infiltrate—for by attacking he terribly weakens himself—for he reveals his position. The horizon is spanned. And with the prudent and wise counsel of the Holy Spirit the weakling is located and isolated, dispelling the smoke screen that once concealed his actual tininess. I peacefully choose my weapon: the virtue that most purifies and converts the “ugly” and “fearful” thought that has been thrown aimlessly at my fortification built on and of rock. I then rally all of God’s holy angels, saints, virtues, gifts, and glory around this single point of infinite power. We announce God’s majesty. The sky is illuminated, entirely. The glory of God builds beyond this particular field of battle, putting to utter rest not only the “ugliness” and “fear” currently at hand but all ugliness and all fear that could ever be. For Heaven reigns. On Earth. As in Heaven.
All quiet on the Western Front.
Good night. Sleep well. See you in the morning. When even the rooster rests.
The break of a new day, that never ends.
Praise be to God.