There must be always remaining in everyone's life some place for the singing of angels, some place for that which in itself is breathlessly beautiful, and by an inherent prerogative, throws all the rest of life into a new and creative relatedness, something that gathers up in itself all the freshets of experience from drab and commonplace areas of living and glows in one bright white light of penetrating beauty and meaning—then passes. The commonplace is shot through with new glory; old burdens become lighter, deep and ancient wounds lose much of their old, old hurting. A crown is placed over our heads that for the rest of our lives we are trying to grow tall enough to wear. Despite all the crassness of life, despite all the hardness of life, despite all the harsh discords of life, life is saved by the singing of angels.
Grace is the breath of God, a divine force that moves through us, within us, and around us. Grace holds the potential to heal our souls, our minds, and our hearts, as well as the dynamics within relationships and other life circumstances. We are natural channels of grace. The monasteries that are dedicated to prayer for the world and the people in them are continual channels for grace in this world. These individuals know that while they are in that state of prayer, grace can flow through them and into the world at large.