Only For You

… incline the ear of your heart to My voice, which speaks to souls inwardly and gives light and understanding to those who seek it. I am present to you when you open the Scriptures and I want to enlighten you and instruct you. When you read My word, seek My Heart. When you read the Scriptures, seek My Face. You will find My Heart hidden in My word like the treasure hidden in the field, and you will discover My Face shining through the text and illuminating the eyes of your soul.   ~  In Sinu Jesu, pages 30 – 31

       A few days ago, I learned that some things should not be spoken about. In a conversation with a relative, I had mentioned hearing Jesus’ words, Let Me wash your feet, and I relayed to him the overwhelming joy I had felt as an immediate reaction, even as I did not understand the words at that point in time.

       I then wished I hadn’t said anything. Because my relative took it upon himself to darkly hint that those words had multiple meanings. I felt that he was referring to “necessary purification” due to my long ago actions of cutting ties with the immediate family members on my side due to past abuse. He has always disapproved of what I did although I have briefly explained why such a severe response was necessary – and after almost 40 years of trying to make things work. Instead, on multiple occasions, being a church prayer leader, he has tactfully and lovingly offered to pray over me so that I would return to the family fold.

       Hearing my relative’s words, the sense of relief from Let Me wash your feet, that Jesus would take care of me – evaporated. At the edges of my spirit, a dark foreboding instead gathered the folds of its cloak to seal the doors and windows to my heart.

How I wished I had just shut up.

       Family means the world to me. It means just as much to my otherwise loving relative too. He is a doting husband, father and grandfather who would do anything for his loved ones, including me. Yet, sometimes, the lives we live and the experiences we encounter do not help us perceive more clearly the decisions other people are driven to. Sometimes, despite noble intentions, we make the mistake of holding ourselves and our views up as a model of what should be. We make of ourselves a standard and bid others do as we do without considering that there might be distinct circumstances which set them apart from us, making their journey different.

       In the days following this encounter, I forced myself to face the possibility that another round of difficulties awaited me because I needed to be purified again. Although I know well that being cleansed and made whole is an ongoing process with everyone, it still devastated me that God might have announced it to prepare me for more suffering – and not because He felt that I needed to let go and learn to allow myself to be taken care of.

How could I have gotten it so wrong?

       Yet, even as darkness gathered closer, another truth shone insistently: even as it pierces, God’s Word is always edifying and strengthening. Even as He comes to prepare us for difficulties and purification, the Word that is truly from God always gives hope. It never fills you with despair.

It never breaks the crushed reed.

This is not about being disappointed at having to face a truth. It’s never easy for anyone to accept a truth we are not prepared for, much less not anticipating. No, this was different because my well-intentioned relative’s words had dimmed the sun and brought cold – to my spirit. A chill that didn’t leave despite prayerful attempts to seek courage for whatever may be ahead. When the spirit recoils from a word, that is always the sign for me that something is not from God.

       Then, at Mass yesterday, Jesus stepped forward once more,

My voice, which speaks to souls inwardly and gives light and understanding to those who seek it.

You will find My Heart hidden in My word like the treasure hidden in the field…

Could that have been the reason why my spirit had rejoiced over Let Me wash your feet the first time although my mind was casting about for meaning – because my spirit had perceived hidden treasure in those words spoken inwardly to me?

       As Jesus’ words washed over me yesterday in that bright, sunny church, the troubling caused by my kindly and well-meaning relative curled away from me. I knew then that my spirit had perceived God’s Word right the first time. It had seen hope and light and promise – which my relative had not.

Let Me wash your feet

       They were my Shepherd’s words, their light and understanding meant for me alone, because not too long ago, He had promised,

I will whisper in your ear,

Just loud enough for you to hear.

Let Me Wash Your Feet

       Since the turn of the year, despite the many knots we continue to encounter, some tension has certainly eased in my life. I hope it means I have passed through a lengthy period of turbulence. I hope it never comes back again. Although it often continues to seem as if I’m never far from the cliff’s edge in some issues, there has been a general undulating gentleness to the past months.

A Christmas year is ahead, said God last year.

       If I thought I heard Him wrong, Jesus countered that this past weekend at Mass. As I read these words from In Sinu Jesu,

Even now, He would wash the feet of His chosen ones to teach them the humility of His love for them. If I want companionship with Him, I must let Him do for me all that His humble love seeks to do.

shock waves went through me although I barely understood what the words meant. Then, Jesus whispered into my ear, only loud enough for me to hear,

Let Me wash your feet

       Jesus wishes to wash my feet. Feet dusty and muddied and bloodied some from the walks through the varied lanes of life we live all at once in a single lifetime. Always understood by me as a sign and an exhortation to humble service, it is suddenly made known to my heart that the washing of feet is also an act of Love, of Mercy, by Someone Who knows just how weary we are from the travails of life and Who wishes to minister to us – if we could just let Him.

Someone Who was now telling me, Let Me take care of you.

Always so used to trying to do things for Jesus, now suddenly, the tables are turned.

Let Me take care of you

       As I let the words wash over me, another knowing comes through in a sudden jolt.

The washing of feet comes before the meal.

       And with that, the waves retreat from the shore and all falls silent.

Something for the Pain

He who truly loves his neighbor and cannot efficaciously assist him, should strive at least to relieve and help him by his prayers.

~  St. Teresa of Jesus

       I’m living by these words of St Teresa of Avila this week. A dear old friend told me earlier in the week that doctors had found a growth in her spine. Just a month away from a happy retirement, she gets this news – and yet, finds the heart to offer up Masses for my daughter who’s sitting for her finals. Earlier too, someone on a Catholic forum went through the sudden hospitalisation of his brother and later, lost him. Today, he wrote these pain-filled words, I’ve had five days in the garden of Gethsemane. I did not think it was possible to suffer so much and live.

       Tears gather in my throat. Oh, how much some in the world are suffering. I have my relatively good health and so many things to be happy about. Yet, not one of it can be shared with those walking the path of burning coals now.

        Then, appears St Teresa, throwing open the window to her home as I go by,

If you cannot efficaciously assist him, at least pray for him.

        What a mercy this recourse to prayer is. Where would anyone be without this grace of knowing we have somewhere to send broken hearts and tears to, somewhere to channel our own fears and sufferings, and through that transform it into love? How transformed this world would be if it only knew of this blessing availed to mankind when the rain pours in its varied falls.

       For great, great indeed is this grace of prayer.

Offering of the Hours

If He so wills, God can draw His glory from our most insignificant actions.

~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoqué

       Easter has always been a time to stand down and reflect on the lessons of Lent. But it doesn’t come easy this year. So many needs have come to my attention, open wounds and tears in need of Jesus’ touch.

       With some, I sensed the need to pray specific prayers. At Easter, came the mystical tug to return to the prayer of the Voice of the Precious Blood for a few people. For a number of others, I felt the call to pray throughout the day – never an easy thing for me as I’m seldom recollected. Still, the angel was quick to remind me that by making an offering of my day with all the random littles that come with each hour, I would be praying all hours of the day.

       Today, on yet another Luminous Thursday, my beloved friend, St. Margaret Mary Alacoqué, comes to confirm that this offering of the hours is indeed the asking of heaven for the hospitals of need throughout the world.

       As the shifting winds thread their notes through the trees, a thought comes to me. Is it the rustle of wings I’m hearing, of angels come to collect every tiny prayer of every hour?

       As if in answer, the winds soar in a sudden rise towards the heavens, bringing a smile to my heart.

Spring of Souls

Tis the spring of souls today: Christ hath burst His prison;
And from three days’ sleep in death as a Sun hath risen.
All the winter of our sins, long and dark, is flying
From His light, to whom we give laud and praise undying.
Now the queen of seasons, bright with the day of splendor,
With the royal feast of feasts comes its joy to render!”

~ St John of Damascus

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂, Happy, Happy 𝓔𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻!

Lent 40 ~ In This Silence

God will speak in this Holy Silence.

But He will whisper just loud enough for you to hear.

~ paraphrased from www.coraevans.com

Lent 39 ~ Freed

Into Your hands, I commend My Spirit.

Lent 38 ~ Keep Watch with Me

My soul is sorrowful even to death. Remain here and keep watch with me.

~ Matthew 26: 38

Lent 37 ~ I am Going to Jerusalem

 

When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem.

~ Luke 9: 51

Lent 36 ~ Fear of God

      It’s not easy to reconcile the words, the fear of God, with the image of God as a loving Father. Why fear, I used to wonder.

       Today, hearing of some world events, a phrase began to drum within me,

They had no fear of God

They had no fear of God

They had no fear of God

I turned the words over in my heart and began to think about them and the light they brought to me. The fear of God helps me to remember that as gentle and as loving and as generous as God is, He is fair too. Not just to me, but also to those whom I hurt. If I am negatively secure in my convictions that because God loves me, God will always be in my corner and that anything I do will be alright with Him, I can be in for a surprise. Or shock.

       I believe there is a rope that binds us to God. The harder we pull on that rope through unfairness and injustice, the faster we will come before the seat of Justice – especially those whom God has blessed with so much more than others. Because He loves us, even as He meets our falls with mercy, He does also with justice. For God will not, in His immense love, allow sin to taint us.

       Today, an unlikely singular joy weaves its myriad hymns through the trees, coming to rest upon my heart. Despite a lack of sleep, agitation over happenings in my country and in the world, and concern over my studies, my heart sings and sings. It is so, so odd that I have to pause and run my gaze over the terrain of my heart. Then, a memory comes of my night’s intention – to pray big, “recklessly” even. Suddenly, watching the winds sing, a knowing comes into me. Heaven does indeed want me to pray the big, reckless prayers! The time for it has come for me.

       And so I do, on this final Saturday before Holy Week.

       Individual by individual.

       My family and I.

       The countries on my heart.

       I place them all into the Wound of the Heart of Jesus.

       May His Precious Blood wash over each one. And may the Light of the fear of God burn through the cold.