Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.
—William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (II.iii.44-45)
My friends, the diminishing length of posts over the past few days is due to the fact that I have been afflicted not only with extreme physical illness (in the form of general respiratory awfulness) but also with that “madness most discreet,” new love. A journey that began just a few days ago has yielded an ending that I never could have thought possible, and I’m still basking in its glow. I hope you’ll bear with me as I leave you with a simple prayer that perfectly captures the peace that has descended upon me and upon this day:
May He support us all the day long,
till the shades lengthen, and the evening comes,
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is over and our work is done!
Then in His mercy may He give us a safe lodging,
and a holy rest, and peace at the last.