Living in isolation here at the hermitage, away from the chaos and daily troubles of the world, gives me a unique perspective on this passage from Galatians 5:24: “They that are of Christ have crucified the flesh with the passions and the lusts thereof.” In fact, this perspective would probably be shared by most solitaries or hermits. In this quiet life, I’ve come to understand what it truly means to crucify the flesh and live according to God’s commandments, in the love of Christ.
When we think of the “flesh,” we might think of the more obvious sins—lust, greed, envy, and anger—but it goes much deeper than that. The flesh represents the pull of worldly desires, the temptation to focus on ourselves instead of God, to seek comfort and pleasure instead of holiness. Here, in the silence of my surroundings, I’ve come to see that crucifying the flesh means more than just avoiding sin. It means taming the constant push of selfishness that lives in each of us, replacing it with a life dedicated to God’s will. Out here, there are no distractions from the modern world. No noise, no flashing lights, no busyness. And yet, the battle with the flesh continues. In the stillness, I can hear the temptations that are drowned out by the world’s distractions—meaning that when we are caught up in the busyness, noise, and distractions of the world, we’re not likely to notice certain temptations or sinful desires. These distractions can mask or suppress the inner struggles we face, making it harder to recognize them. However, in the solitude and quietness of the hermitage, where there are no such distractions, these temptations become more apparent and easier to recognize. In stillness, I can hear and face those inner temptations that might otherwise go unnoticed in a chaotic, fast-paced environment. The desire for comfort, the longing for recognition, even the subtle temptation to think I’ve “earned” holiness through my lifestyle—all of these can creep in. That’s why St. Paul the Apostle’s words are a constant reminder that being of Christ means dying to those desires, nailing them to the Cross just as He did. Continue reading
In the quiet stillness of the hermitage, where my life is centered on prayer and reflection, the tools that guide me through study and contemplation, along with the Holy Spirit, are more than just books—they are companions on my continuing spiritual journey on this earth. Each one plays a vital role in grounding me in the Scriptures, tradition, and the cycles of daily devotion. Here, I’d like to share the essentials that I rely on for my quiet time, study, and prayer.
There is a sacredness in the stillness of the day’s early hours, a kind of peace that envelops the soul as the world begins to awaken. In the quiet of the morning, before the day’s demands rush in, there is a rare opportunity to simply be—to rest in the presence of God and listen for His voice in the silence. I find that these moments of stillness are some of the most precious times to commune with the Creator. As the light of dawn gently touches the earth, I am reminded that each new day is a gift, an opportunity to draw closer to Him. The silence isn’t just the absence of noise—it is a space where the heart is more open, more in tune to the divine presence that surrounds and sustains all of creation. In these quiet moments, I am often drawn to ponder the teachings of Christ. His words, so often spoken in the simplicity of nature or the calm of the early morning, seem to resonate more deeply for me in this stillness. The Beatitudes, the call to love our enemies, the invitation to take up our cross—all of these teachings come alive in the silence, as a personal call to live in the light of His truth. 
Living the contemplative life as a hermit is a serious and unique calling, marked by simplicity, solitude, and a constant turning toward God. While it may seem unusual to many, this life offers deep spiritual rewards for those who embrace it. It is a path of quiet transformation, where the heart is gradually shaped and refined by daily prayer, silence, and the experience of living in isolation. I would like to expand on some of the highlights of this life, at least from my point of view, sharing the blessings, challenges, and fulfillment that come with walking this solitary path. 
This morning, as I sat by the window watching the birds, I watched the sunlight slowly break through the clouds. A welcome site after all the rain we have had recently. The way it touched the earth, warming the land reminded me of a simple truth: the sun shines on both the righteous and the unrighteous alike.
When we were children, most of us dreaded taking medicine. Depending on what it was, it was often bitter, and we didn’t understand why it was necessary. Yet, our parents insisted because they knew it was for our good, even when we didn’t see it.
Michaelmas, the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, is observed this Sunday, September 29 and is a significant feast in the Anglican calendar. It is celebrated by the Roman Catholic Church as the Dedication of St Michael the Archangel. It offers us a unique opportunity to reflect on the often-overlooked role of angels in our faith, making us think of the spiritual reality that surrounds us, and the ongoing battle between good and evil.