St. Dymphna

 Oh, dear St. Dymphna how utterly confusing it must feel to be in the throes of mental illness; to be led to dark thoughts that diminish the light of God, reduce the sanctity of human life, extinguish the spark of the divine in every human soul.  To live in doubt of the very nature of our being as children of God, even though loved with an all consuming passion by the Source of all life and to submit to despair as if all is lost and hope is a hushed after thought.

This road must feel desolate, devoid of companionship, divested of all that tugs human hearts to convene in a prayerful communion with one another.  It must feel lonely, to believe, to think, and to act as if accounted to no one because the estrangement in itself becomes the death knell of the living dead.

Prayerfully I turn to you to light a candle for those in the grip of this state of confusion, to console those left in this wake when the leaving is more ardent than living.  Help me to see the face of God even in this darkness, to find compassion not judgment; reaching, trusting, and loving without measure bereft as I am of full understanding.