Today’s the feast of the great Englishman, St. John Henry Newman.
God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission — I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. Somehow, I am necessary for His purposes, as necessary in my place as an archangel in his. If, indeed, I fail, God can raise another, as He could make the stones children of Abraham. Yet I have a part in this great work; I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught.
I shall do good. I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, though not intending it, if I do but keep His Commandments and serve Him in my calling.
Therefore, I will trust Him. Whatever, wherever, I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us.
He does nothing in vain. He may prolong my life; He may shorten it. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me — still He knows what He is about.
St. John Henry Newman, pray for us.