I remember one Christmas Eve, when I was alone in the heart of a dark, dank and misty redwood forest, which was made even more inhospitable by unceasing rain.

I had found an old abandoned cabin, which still contained a small tin wood stove and had two filled kerosene lamps.

As Christmas Eve turned to Christmas, I sat close to the stove, which sizzled and smoked, because of the wetness of the wood, and read by kerosene lamp.

At one point, I paused to recall all of my past Merry Christmas Eves, spent with a house full of laughing relatives. I recalled the food, the frivolity, the great warmth of related hearts. How had I ended up on the edge of the opposite coast, alone, almost lost, homeless and without purpose? I didn’t ask myself that question that night, but I did write down a prayer to get me through the night and the succeeding difficult days.

Lord, it is not for me to understand your plan and purpose, or why my soul has consented to accompany or direct me to this place of uninspired darkness. But all extreme positions turn into their opposites, and in the greater light ahead, I will remain focused on the commandments of the heart and the needs of those still wandering through the dark woods and nights of their souls.

Lord, let me achieve in active service to this goal.

– Raphael O’Suna,   Haiku