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Many people knew Sister Wendy Beckett through her BBC art series. But that was really a sideline from her true vocation as a contemplative. She took it up as an opportunity to talk about God to a largely secular audience. Rather than an art historian like Kenneth Clarke... 
she was more like the anchoress Julian of Norwich, who saw the universe as a hazelnut in the hand of God. Living as a hermit on the grounds of the Carmelite monastery in Quidenham, she rose each night at 2 and spent the whole night in prayer. She read several books a day
Her letters ranged from Merton, her love for Pope Francis, her favorite saints, icons, the sorrows of the world, and her desire that everyone might know and experience God’s love. In turn, she accepted my daily drudge, held it in God’s light, and returned it as a blessing.
She considered herself as of no importance—as Hildegard might say, no more than a feather on the breath of God. But she was a treasure on this earth. Art, she believed, was a finger pointing to the source of that Beauty, which, as Dostoevsky wrote, will save the world.
