This divine Heart is naught but sweetness, humility and patience, therefore, we must wait. . . He knows when to act. ~ St. Margaret Mary Alacoque
After Sri Lanka, I am straining at the reins. I want to do more than what I am doing. I don’t want our churches bombed. Neither do I want the places of worship of other faiths to suffer the same. For more than 20 years, living here, my family and I have tried to witness to Christ in a way that shows others they have nothing to fear of Jesus – but that even if they will not convert, they can embrace His teachings to love one another and live differently in their faith.
We’ve emptied ourselves in this giving. It feels as if there is nothing left in our jar of oil.
But there must be.
What do You ask of me? What do You ask of me? I tug and tug at God’s hem.
But He doesn’t answer. Because God never answers an asking that doesn’t listen.
As I prod and probe, skirmishes within the family begin. Seemingly minor things but still they chaff. A husband’s disbelief in something. A child’s self-centeredness. I continue to work for the family, to be there for them, but the lightness in my heart has gone. And when the hurting doesn’t let up, the wound deepens. And a silence enters my heart.
Padre Pio comes by later in the morning. Gently, he reminds me, Don’t allow any sadness to dwell in your soul, for sadness prevents the Holy Spirit from acting freely.
But I cannot pretend the hurt isn’t there. I cannot just jump back into my happy and cheery self.
It is Divine Mercy Sunday. I place my heart, sadness and all, in the Divine Heart. And I get on with my day, no longer pulling and tugging at God’s hem, but pondering in the silence within.
It is late afternoon when I seek God’s word. Tell me what to do, I quietly tell Heaven.
St. Margaret Mary answers for the saints,
This Divine Heart is naught but sweetness, humility and patience, therefore, we must wait. . . He knows when to act.