I'd like to say that this picture was taken in Ireland, but the only pictures of Ireland that I have are on 35 mm slides. This was taken in a lovely spot on a Blood Council (don't ask) pilgrimage to St. Vincent's in southwestern Pennsylvania.
I took time today to read parts of The Confession of St. Patrick, written by himself. A great example of God's writing straight with crooked lines. If Patrick had not been kidnapped from the coast of Briton by pirates and sold into slavery in Ireland, he would never have become the great apostle of Ireland and my family would not have been Catholic and I would not have become a priest.
Another good that came from something bad. A friend to whom he had confided some big failing as a young teenager betrayed his trust later in life and endangered Patrick's work as a missionary bishop. This is what may have prompted Patrick to write his Confession, describing all the good things he had done by the grace of God. Otherwise he may never have written anything about himself.
After an experience that turned out very different from what I expected I heard Don McClean sing,
"All roads lead to where I am, and I believe I walked them all no matter what I may have planned."
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