For some reason I have started reading a lot of Roman Catholic writers. People like Thomas Merton, Thomas Keating, and Henri Nouwen take up space on my shelves now. The writings of those known as the Desert Fathers intrigue me as does the life of Saint Francis. It is toward a different kind of writings that I find myself moving. Back then in younger, more busy days, I would not have had the patience to read them. Back then too much of life was ahead, too many things to do, too many goals to race by, too many obstacles to hurdle, so much time ahead, so much to do.
Now as I come to terms with the reality that little time is ahead, the tasks of "so much to do" no longer weigh heavy on every waking thought. Perhaps, it might appear to some that older would mean hurrying to get it all done, but what I have discovered is that life moves at a slower and more deliberate pace. As has always been the case, there is enough time in each day to get today's stuff done. It is a realization at which I am slowly arriving, but hopefully not too late as I walk in this season of tending to the needs of my soul.