I am on a retreat at the monastery of the Society of St John the Evangelist in Boston. It is very snowy. And very, very cold. There is a man who has been sitting in the public area of the church this afternoon. I wonder if he is homeless. 

We are trying, with mixed results, to keep silence as we worry whether or not we will have a blizzard tomorrow. The sun gleams on the snow and flashes through huge icicles on the church, perhaps to remind us of the transfiguration, which is the Gospel for this Sunday. 

We are all praying a lot. Of course all will be well.