Bear with me if you’ve been following my previous trips to Florence on this blog. Again and again I return to my favorite spots, take picture of the same places, and write about what they mean to me. You can always count on me to return to Monastery of Saint Francis in Fiesole. I don’t look back to read what I wrote, but you can if you want. Now is now, and I just spent a lovely fall morning there in full view of God’s creation.
I’m into simplicity both in my home and in my life; the monk’s cells inspire me, not only to get rid of stuff, but to write and to pray. It’s all there in that tiny room—a cross, Bible, paper and pen on the table, along with a chair and wooden plank. Simplicity of space clears the way for simplicity of prayer, which God hears best.
I’m into simplicity both in my home and in my life; the monk’s cells inspire me, not only to get rid of stuff, but to write and to pray. It’s all there in that tiny room—a cross, Bible, paper and pen on the table, along with a chair and wooden plank. Simplicity of space clears the way for simplicity of prayer, which God hears best.
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