Sunrise

A friend of mine, just back from another round of cancer treatment, quoted this today: "Life is a constant sunrise, which death cannot interrupt, any more than the night can swallow up the sun." George MacDonald in Annals of a Quiet Neighbourhood. Isn't that good?

By the way, today is the feast day of St Thérèse of Lisieux, from whose journal Story of a Soul I took the title of Jozanne Moss's and my book, "I Choose Everything". I've been reading the entry about her on Catholic Online. She died at the age of 24 in 1897, having been a Carmelite nun for less than ten years. She lost her mother when she was a child. When her father was committed to a mental institution, "Horrified, Therese learned of the humiliation of the father she adored and admired and of the gossip and pity of their so-called friends. As a cloistered nun she couldn't even visit her father. This began a horrible time of suffering when she experienced such dryness in prayer that she stated, 'Jesus isn't doing much to keep the conversation going.' She was so grief-stricken that she often fell asleep in prayer. She consoled herself by saying that mothers loved children when they lie asleep in their arms so that God must love her when she slept during prayer."