God of My Dai­ly Routine (2)
The Ware­house of My Soul 

Many years ago, when I was a school­boy dis­tin­guished by the name of ​“philoso­pher,” I learned that the soul is some­how every­thing. O God, how the mean­ing of that lofty-sound­ing phrase has changed! How dif­fer­ent it sounds to me now, when my soul has become a huge ware­house where day after day the trucks unload their crates with­out any plan or dis­crim­i­na­tion, to be piled hel­terskel­ter in every avail­able cor­ner and cran­ny, until it is crammed full from top to bot­tom with the trite, the com­mon­place, the insignif­i­cant, the routine. 

What will become of me, dear God, if my life goes on like this? What will hap­pen to me when all the crates are sud­den­ly swept out of the ware­house? How will I feel at the hour of my death? Then there will be no more ​“dai­ly rou­tine” then I shall sud­den­ly be aban­doned by all the things that now fill up my days here on earth. 

Rah­n­er, Karl. ​“Encoun­ters with Silence.” In Spir­i­tu­al Clas­sics: Select­ed Read­ings on the Twelve Spir­i­tu­al Dis­ci­plines. Edit­ed by Richard J. Fos­ter and Emi­lie Grif­fin. New York: Harper­One, 2000
From https://renovare.org/