When brilliant ethicist John Kavanaugh went to work for three months in the "house of the dying" in Calcutta, he was seeking a clear answer as to how to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, "And what can I do for you?" Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him.
"What do you want me to pray for?" she asked. He voiced the request he'd borne thousands of miles from the United States: "Pray that I have clarity."
She said firmly, "No, I will not do that." When he asked her why, she said, "Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of." When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, "I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. I will pray that you trust God."
The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some predetermined, clearly delineated plan for the future. The next step discloses itself only out of a discernment of God acting in the desert of the present moment. The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious, and secure and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered it his presence and promise.
From the book "Ruthless Trust" by Brennan Manning.
This is my maternal grandmother's brother, James. He died before I was born so I never met him, but every time she spoke of him, she still talked like he hung the moon. I wish I could have heard more stories about him.