Behind you, kid.

There is an army behind you, kid. Not just the army of martyrs, saints, angels and such. But the flesh and blood kind. The living, breathing, humble servants of a Lord that humbled himself in a manner that none of us could ever deserve, could ever warrant. The prayers, the novenas, the sacrifices, the supplication, oblation, rise up in a manner that we could never understand, as God’s will traces its way through our lives in a thousand unseen strands that bind us all together in a majestic web of His own working. Such silent, powerful, delicate, absolute motion, stirring, turning, all to render grace in ways we could never even imagine, let alone recognise. There’s an army behind you, kid; and I may be the least among them, but I’ll stand with them, and with you, ever and always, to beg our Lord’s mercy, as much as His will.