When we are overrun with all we’ve yet to do, and particularly with all that we realize we’ll never get to do,

When we recognize that what we’ve envisioned is not what has come to pass,

When we’re forced to face down (at last) the truth that we can not control our kids or our marriage or our job or our reputation or the economy, or – basically – anything at all,

When fear stalks us and gloom hounds us,

We need to hear the good blessing from St. Julian:

All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.


words have a way of making friends. drop a few here.