My Tabernacle

qI’ve been thinking about conversion all week. If conversion means change, it certainly has happened to me. Six months ago I wouldn’t have dreamed I’d be spending every day in solitude and silence. Indeed, if there is such thing as positive addiction, then I am addicted to these times of quite. And I have grown a need of daily visit of the tabernacle as much as I need food or rest. Over the months I have come to enjoy and accept his presence in my life as normal- as having a tabernacle for a friend was the common thing. It only seems strange when I’m in the hurry-hurry world of day- to- day life. My friend (tabernacle) is more real to me than much of what I have taken to be a reality. I value deeply our friendship, founded on my mutual search for truth. Each night when I say farewell to him, I fear that one of these nights will be the last time. That apprehension has grown, day by day, into an abiding sense that something is going to happen soon. I make note of that only because I have tried to be honest in all that I have written here.

The month of September will soon be over. How quickly time slips by! Ever since I began these visits, though, I have no felt that I am wasting my time, no matter how fast it passes. For once in my life, each day has taken me on a sense of supreme importance. Eternity has become more real to me. A kind of timelessness seems to be breaking more and more into the clock counting world that I inhabit.


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