In the medieval era gardens were designed to suffice for the loss of Eden. The garden I’ve grown into, in my middle ages, seems more like a kind of Purgatory, but I love it. It’s a ratty little garden, not much at all. But I can call it mine.

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

We walk (or live) by faith, not by sight.

What would I find in my own heart if the noise of the world were silenced? Who would I be? What will I be when loss or crisis or the depredation of time take away the trappings of success, or self importance, even personality itself?

She is a tree of life to those who embrace her, those who lay hold of her will be blessed.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid.

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

But I have stilled and quieted my soul;

like a weaned child with its mother,

like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were bought at a price.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.