Since I am not yet today a crucified donkey (Jesus mocked in an early Roman graffito above), I may as well be like little martyr Alexamenos (thank you, little one), just another Brother Ass (thank you, Saint Francis) in “The Barn” (thank you, Saint Clare). I do not yet know that of which I speak, as I have never been to “The Barn,” though many of my fellow priests, including “The Very” know well such a heaven on earth in the midst of the ferocity of the Franciscan seraphic fire. These next three days will mark, I think, a major turning point in my life. And if that be not uncryptic enough, I recall for you another time when I was rather on edge with the concerns of Holy Mother Church while writing my thesis:
While I wrote those 750 pages of an ecclesiastical thriller novel under a pen name, I soon enough divulged my real identity, thinking this better for me and the message. And yes, that is the image of a donkey painted by an autistic boy specifically for this opus.
Anyway… I would be much obliged if you were to say a Hail Mary for me each day for the next three days, Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday, that some bit of clarity regarding the one thing necessary might come my way.