Tom’s hermit shack and webcam

On this day in 1968, Thomas Merton, monk and writer, died while attending a conference of Buddhist and Christian monastics in Bangkok.  He was apparently electrocuted by contact with a standing floor fan, possibly while still wet from a shower.  Having read many of Merton’s letters and all seven volumes of his published letters, I know him as a kindred spirit: a self-obsessed navel-gazer who read and wrote and agonized over God.  I’m convinced that if he were alive today, he would have a blog, a Livejournal, a MySpace page, and probably a webcam in his hermitage.  I’m posting this prayer he wrote in his memory.

My Lord God

I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself,

and the fact that I think I am following

your will does not mean

that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that my desire to please you

does in fact please you.

And I hope that I have that desire

in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything

apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this

you will lead me by the right road

though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always

though I may seem to be lost

and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear,

for you are ever with me,

and you will never leave me

to face my perils alone.