Behold, he stands at the door and knocks

I have truly fallen far from you, Jesus, though not in the way I would normally mean by "falling" -- it is more that I am aware that my love has grown cold. A prideful voice in me suggests that this awareness is due to some heightened spiritual sensitivity on my part, and that I should give myself some credit for it. Yet who am I that I should boast of spiritual sensitivity? I have done little to increase in that and much to cause a deadening of my senses. No, any sensitivity is purely the work of Grace. It is you, calling me back from the brink of destruction, warning me that I am about to fall headlong into the vast ocean of my passions.

The desires in my heart are breeding and growing out of control. You stand at the door and knock, offering my soul that excellent medicine which is your very self -- perhaps that is why I am avoiding you, because I have grown attached to my present state and realize that letting you in will mean the death of these disordered desires. At least, that is the perception, though in fact you bring order and redemption to the desires of the heart.

Right now there is a certain agony, for I know you are near; I can hear you knocking, calling from just a short distance away. Such tension is unbearable; I will not be able to last much longer. When I can bear it no more, I will either go and open the door and let you in, or I will run away and stop my ears so that I can pretend you are not there. Which will I choose to do? O God do not abandon me! Do not let me stray far from your side, but come and rescue me. If I flee from your presence, come and find me and call me once again.

I am confident of this: You will follow me all the way to the gates of hell itself and extend your hand to me, that I might grasp your hand and be saved. O God, may I have the strength to cry out to you in the hour of my death!

Humility

From 1st Peter 5:

All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. (vss. 5b-6 NIV)

How do I clothe myself with humility? How do I humble myself? Every time I attempt to do so, by this means or that means, I find myself taking credit for it. And even if I give God credit for accomplishing something in me, in my heart I become proud of the fact that I gave credit to God for helping me be humble. And if I give credit to God for helping me give credit to him. . . . the same result. Everywhere I turn, my pride confronts me.

Even in writing this, I find myself admiring myself, saying, "Ahh, what wisdom, what self-knowledge, what humility" and deep-down hoping that others might think the same.

I don't know how to humble myself, for if I do it, I will take credit for it. How do I boast in my weaknesses, without regarding such boasting to be my strength, and so defeat the entire purpose?

I am hesitant to ask God to give me a humility found apart from my efforts, because I suspect that my pride is like a deadly cancer growing within me which can only be removed by painful surgery. I'd rather it'd be as simple as pressing a button and having it removed in a moment — no pain, no struggle, no loss.

But why should I consider myself better than Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who,

Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. . . (Hebrews 5:8-9)

Indeed, Peter instructs us earlier in his letter:

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God. (1 Peter 4:1-2)

Lest I confuse this attitude with dejection and self-pity, as if sighing to myself "Woe is me, for I am suffering", he goes on to say:

Rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed (4:13)

Dejection in the face of suffering would be the response of pride, which wishes that I did not have to undergo suffering, because it thinks that I should be better than to need it. Rejoicing is the response of humility, for it recognizes that my soul is in desperate need of healing, and that this suffering is its medicine and path to union with God.

I cannot dispense the necessary medicine to myself, for I am incapable of knowing the correct prescription for my needs, nor can I operate on myself. Instead, I will simply have to be silent and wait for Him to do as he will.

For a Woman

Remember, Daughter of Eve
Do not forget, O Woman –
Many are the years that have passed upon the earth
Flowers faded, forests grown, mountains crumbled
And memories become like mist.
The stories told are often tales
Of darkness or even soulless gray,
But it was not always so.
And now the Light has dawned,
Life is come, the gift is giv’n.
The Morningstar rises,
Eden glimpsed again.

Who is this that rages now?
He with empty, burning gaze,
That dragon, mankind’s bitter foe.
He desires your ruin, the ruin of your soul.
O Daughter of Eve, keep your guard!
O Woman, with such wonder were you made!
Crowning beauty of God’s creation!
Though you fell into death’s dark grasp,
The weight of sin upon your soul –

Look! Your Savior comes!
Conqu’ring death itself, he storms the darkened keep
And wakes his Sleeping Beauty with a tender kiss.
And now you, O Princess,
You whose name is Precious One, Beloved,
Daughter of the King,
Remember!

Remember who you are.
Heed not the dragon’s lies.
Do not listen to his clever tales.
He will try to enchant you,
To put you under his spell of darkness,
To cause your soul to sleep
And slip away into death,
To forget the One who created you,
The One who claims you as his own,
To fill your eyes with deep shadows
That you might forget the light,
Or, still rememb’ring, to despair of seeing it again.
He does not want you to know, nor to understand
That you were created for life, for love
That God has endued you with beauty
Beauty that radiates from your soul –
You are a reflection of the glory of God.

Written 7/13/04 Rev. 10/27/04

Darkened Glimpse of Splendor

O Lord, who adorns the sky with galaxies
and fills the heavens with golden moon and stars,
"What is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?"
The earth is yours, and everything in it;
nothing was made apart from you.
Truly, all of creation declares your glory
and the heavens sing your praise.
Yet neither the rising and setting of the sun
nor the waxing and waning of the moon
nor the glistening of the dew at dawn's first light
nor the gleaming jewels formed by winter's breath --
none of these reflections of your beauty can compare with the radiance of your glory;
they are but a darkened glimpse of your splendor.

O Mangum Mysterium

†
O great mystery of Love! I possess the one who possesses me.
I possess all, for I am possessed by the Blessed Trinity
†

Longing

The sight of the silver moon entranced my heart, inspiring thoughts of devotion. In my joy I almost failed to see that her beautiful light was but a dim reflection of the radiance of another. I sought the moon, but the moon showed me that her beauty was but a glimpse of a far greater glory. If I can rejoice in seeing her, how much more can I rejoice in the rising of the sun?

†

Psalm 27:4
One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple

Psalm 42:1-2
As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?

Psalm 63:1
O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you,
my body longs for you,
in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.

†