In the third of our reflections, Thomas McCarthy OP reminds us that the journey of faith has its own rhythm and should be taken one step at a time

In the third of our reflections, Thomas McCarthy OP reminds us that the journey of faith has its own rhythm and should be taken one step at a time

Our eyes welcome only as much light as we can bear. They develop as we grow; they open gradually wider, seeing further and in more and more detail. The heart, responding to what is seen, comes to love, hope and believe. Some know only pain, abandonment and disillusion: for them the eyes grow dim. Those who suffer acutely can be forgiven for not wishing to see any more, or to be seen. As night falls, they seek shelter in doorways, their wintry plight a mirror of the weather they endure. Hope ebbs from their heart’s shore. They are truly the homeless in our society.

But there are others, who may live quite near us, perhaps in material comfort, whose pain remains largely unseen. I mean those who seek to “keep the bright side out”, if only to avoid questions about their well-being. Yes, they have a roof over their heads, but, inside, they are homeless, despite their bland, dismissive assurances: “I’m fine, thanks.”

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