Just as day declines to evening, so often after some little pleasure my heart declines into depression. Everything seems dull, every action feels like a burden. If anyone speaks, I scarcely listen. If anyone knocks, I scarcely hear. My heart is as hard as flint. Then I go out into the field to meditate, to read the holy scriptures, and I write down my deepest thoughts in a letter to you. And suddenly your grace, dear Jesus, shatters...
Read More