Faith Round the Bend

By J. L. Smyth

09/26/2025 • View profile

Momentary blips shudder though eternity will swallow trying, temporal events in its vast immensity.

Suffering occurs in the lowest valley and at the greatest mountain height - its cost is never free.

Pain or worries spare no one no matter rich or poor, believer or faith-witness, sinner or saint.

Pursuit of happiness is relentless, always wanting more - what is to be gained?

Grappling for steady footing, for an unshaken certainty, for faith tested and weathered through every raging storm.

The constancy of dazzling sunshine, twinkling starlight and effusive moon glow, like a heavenly blanket that keeps you warm.

Turning pages in a dog-eared well-read book, the sound of a rippling, bubbling brook in springtime;

The glimpse of a doe and two speckled fawns nursing, and of selfless giving to a stranger, a charity in kind.

These simple, sublime pleasures do not disappoint nor do the kisses of warm sunlight on ruddy cheeks.

Experience the trill and lyric quality of Gaelic speech to the magnificence of snow-covered Magillicuddy Reeks.

There was once a a man ordinary in appearance with German intellect, a giant of faith who lived in the rural village of Killorglin.

At his side a wife, an Irish lass, a woman of deep faith. During life’s challenges - charged head-on together - never to succumb but win.

Humbly endured the ravages of illness, two times, terminal in nature, but for many years thwarted.

He said, “I am in God’s hands. There is no better place to be,” buoyed by the steadfast faith he was afforded.

With a raised glass of whiskey, I offer an oft-quoted cherished Irish blessing, the most suitable final toast:

“May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of his hand.”