The Lord Will Provide

I went to confession this morning and, after listing off all the usual offences, finally admitted to the old priest that my prayer life went the way of horse-drawn carriages this past June and hadn't come back. That all I do now is go to Sunday Mass, I don't pray, I don't want to pray, and I think I'm mad at God. He muttered something about the importance of regular morning and evening prayer then suddenly sprang up from his chair, dashed out of the room, and returned a minute later with a red vinyl-bound copy of the Liturgy of the Hours. For me. To use. To keep. We talked a little longer, then he named my penance, gave me absolution, and sent me on my shriven way.
In the quiet of the chapel I knelt to say the prescribed Our Father and Hail Mary, and then, since there's no time like the present, I opened the Hours and began to read. Saturday, Week II, Morning Prayer:
Let us listen to the voice of God; let us enter into His rest...
God, come to my assistance...
Lord, guide our feet into the way of peace.
I felt something then, while I sat reading in the chapel. Something I hadn't felt in what seems a very, very long time. Something I'd missed terribly but not been able to pinpoint until that moment.
Peace.