Once again I find myself in the house of the Lord. How fortunate this is, for I am trying to find myself and my faith, which is hidden to men: it is an old man’s faith! A complicated faith. A faith which is hard to find after all that has occurred along this extensive route. Still I am without a spiritual childhood which will allow me to have the type of faith which should be for this day and for all days to come. In my youth, faith blossomed; there was a faith and a spiritual childhood which were borne as the fruit of the breath of life. I am saying this only to recall that young man I once was and once came to be. These words are as scandalously deep as the conversations I exchanged with a young man whom I found amidst the peace of the mountains, by the stream of life. God fell silent and listened to them. I am sure of it. God made him, a young boy, listen when He fell silent. God and the young boy allowed me to find my faith and my spiritual childhood.