PHILOKALIA MINISTRIES

The disciple came at dusk, the sky bruised with purple and fading gold. He sat at the elder’s feet because the weight in his chest was too heavy to stand beneath. The elder waited. He did not ask why the disciple had come. He could see it in the eyes: sorrow, hunger, and something like fear. ⸻ Disciple:  Father, my heart feels as if it has been split open. Longing burns through me like fire, yet I walk still in the desert, not knowing when or if I will ever cross into rest. S

A Hesychastic Meditation on Psalm 37 (Grail) There are mornings when I wake already in combat. No sound, no movement, only the sudden pressure of thoughts that strike like arrows the moment consciousness returns. As Psalm 37 whispers, “Do not fret because of the wicked,”  I see the enemy clearly: not people, not circumstances, but the shadowed distortions that descend unbidden. The wickedness is within. The torment is unseen. The mind begins its arguments before the body move

Meditation on Psalm 132 Grail Translation For as long as I have worn the priestly stole, the words of this psalm have burned quietly within me: “I will not enter the house where I live, nor go to the bed where I rest. I will give no sleep to my eyes, no slumber to my eyelids, till I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling for the Strong One of Jacob.”  They have always been my compass, an unyielding call to seek a dwelling for God that is not built by hands. Through the years,