Blessed are the poor in Spirit.
Amen.
Absolutely.
The New-Agers think that the Faith has no mysticism, no wonder. But, “Seeing, they do not see.” Hand clasping hand in a hospital ... if your eyes are open you will see skyrockets.
The guy I habitually go to for confession always ends the thing with, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.”
And, of course, I respond, “And his mercies endure forever.”
I suffer from almost crippling depression. I am old. I see disability and death coming. And loneliness.
Yet I say, “Who with open eyes can deny the wonders of the Lord who lifts up the lowly?”
The poor, blind secularists. They can barely see the wonder of a clover blossom with its intoxicating sweetness. They are blind to a caress freely given to a dying leper.
As it happens, I am colorblind. I understand what a defect in vision is, and what its cost is. But if I have to choose between missing the beauty of the season of fall and missing the beauty of a heart bared for piercing ... I count my fate a blessing.