Blessed are You, Who understood my tears, You comfort me with love's embrace. Though my eyes cannot see You, I feel your gentle Presence, like angel wings lifting my spirit.
You turn my mourning into joy, I dance to a new song. Blessed are You, O loving companion of my heart.
Work is work and there's harmony in it when the dignity it deserves is allowed to thrive naturally. The greatest teaching manual labor provides a contemplative practice is that there is no separation between work and prayer: work is prayer and prayer is work.
