“May I never flutter again close to the ground”
My Lord Jesus, grant that I may feel your grace and second it in such a way that I empty my heart, so that you, my Friend, my Brother, my King, my God, my Love... may fill it! (The Forge, 913)
I see myself like a poor little bird, accustomed only to making short flights from tree to tree, or, at most, up to a third floor balcony. One day in its life it succeeded in reaching the roof of a modest building, that you could hardly call a skyscraper. And lo and behold, our little bird is snatched up by an eagle, who mistakes the bird for one of its …