How can I, on this Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent, come to truly #know that God’s creation—demonstrated by the nurturing care of ewe, sow, and dog mothers at The Glenn and the deliberate pace of nature—calls me to live in the fullness of truth, while I pray for a miracle for my son Daniel through the intercession of the Venerable Fulton J. Sheen, trusting that all truth is revealed in Him who declares “I am the Truth,” even as the Gospel reminds me that “You know neither me nor my Father“❓
Gospel
Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world.
Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have
the light of life.” So the Pharisees said to him, “You testify
on your own behalf, so your testimony cannot be verified.”
Jesus answered and said to them, “Even if I do testify
on my own behalf, my testimony can be verified,
because I know where I came from and where I am going.
But you do not know where I come from or where I am going.
You judge by appearances, but I do not judge anyone.
And even if I should judge, my judgement is valid,
because I am not alone, but it is I and the Father
who sent me. Even in your law it is written
that the testimony of two men can be verified.
I testify on my behalf and so does the Father who sent me.”
So they said to him, “Where is your father❓” Jesus answered,
“You know neither me nor my Father. If you knew me,
you would know my Father also.” He spoke these words
while teaching in the treasury in the temple area.
But no one arrested him, because his hour had not yet come.
Lent Day 29 Lectio Divina on the word “know“
I know that life at The Glenn teaches me more than any book. I watch the ewe nudge her newborn to stand, the sow lie patiently while her piglets nurse, and the dog keep tireless vigil over her litter. These mothers do not read manuals, yet they know what to do. Their knowing is instinctive, self-giving, and deeply rooted in love—a knowing I long to live out in my own walk with God. It’s in this knowing that I see the beauty of what God is doing right in front of me.
I know there are things in creation I still fail to understand. Laudato Si’ reminds me that the ecosystems I take for granted—soil, water, air—work in quiet cooperation to sustain life. I don’t always know the extent of that miracle. But perhaps I don’t need to know every detail to be awed, humbled, and grateful. What matters is that I grow in reverence for the gift of creation, and the One who sustains it all.
I know that Daniel’s time with us may be short, yet I also know—deep in my spirit—that God is at work. I know this because love persists, because hope refuses to leave, because prayers still rise up, even in weariness. I know the intercession of Venerable Fulton J. Sheen surrounds us like a gentle wind. Maybe the miracle is already happening, not just in healing, but in the way this journey is shaping our hearts.
I know I still struggle to know God fully. There are days when grief clouds my vision, when silence feels too long, when answers don’t come easily. But even now, I keep trying—through nature, through prayer, through the Eucharist, through community. I want to know Him. I want to know the Father.
Yet today, in the Gospel, I hear the words that cut:
We need only recall how ecosystems interact in dispersing carbon dioxide, purifying water, controlling illnesses and epidemics, forming soil, breaking down waste, and in many other ways which we overlook or simply do not know about.
FROM PARAGRAPH 140 OF THE ENCYCLICAL LETTER LAUDATO SI’ OF THE HOLY FATHER FRANCIS ON CARE FOR OUR COMMON HOME