Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.
Making the House Ready for the Lord
The latest from america
In a celebration of the Jubilee of Families, Children, Grandparents and the Elderly, Pope Leo XIV reminded the congregation of the importance of family in passing on the faith and ensuring the future of humanity.
Join the 'Jesuitical' team at the studio and headquarters of America Media in New York City for two days of community, prayer and sharing stories of faith.
There are some signs of progress in addressing the questions raised in “Laudato Si’.” There are also intimations of backpedaling, particularly by the Trump administration, regarding the industrialized world’s malign effects on creation.
In this episode of “Inside the Vatican,” Colleen and Gerry explore the pope’s message to the Vatican workforce and recap Pope Leo’s formal installation at the Basilica of St. John Lateran on Sunday, May 25.
Yes, I have read with appreciation Mary Oliver’s poem “Making the House Ready for the Lord” (9/25). “Come in, come in,” she says to animals seeking shelter as winter dawns on a snowy world.
And what is my response? Unlike the poet, I have for God’s creatures who live out there in my yard a lesser and imperfect love that stops upon my doorstep. Beyond that boundary I offer a crust of last night’s pizza, nuts and suet, apples, whole wheat bread crumbs. To these you are welcome. Help yourself, I say, but keep your distance. This house is mine. For the limits to my hospitality, may the Lord forgive me.
And another thing: Stop digging up my daffodils.
Yes, I have read with appreciation Mary Oliver’s poem “Making the House Ready for the Lord” (9/25). “Come in, come in,” she says to animals seeking shelter as winter dawns on a snowy world.
And what is my response? Unlike the poet, I have for God’s creatures who live out there in my yard a lesser and imperfect love that stops upon my doorstep. Beyond that boundary I offer a crust of last night’s pizza, nuts and suet, apples, whole wheat bread crumbs. To these you are welcome. Help yourself, I say, but keep your distance. This house is mine. For the limits to my hospitality, may the Lord forgive me.
And another thing: Stop digging up my daffodils.