The following is an excerpt from a little book which has been my companion this Lent. The holy religious priest (now deceased) who penned these passionate words, did so under the order of his superiors. Throughout his writings, he refers often to Therese, and shares deep insights into her Act of Oblation to Merciful Love (which is printed at the back of the book). Two kindred souls, I would say. Two hearts aflame with love for God at a white-hot intensity which few of us are ever privileged to reach.
Yet, to draw near to these flaming souls is to dream of catching fire, imploring the Holy Spirit to plunge us too into the Furnace of His Divine Love!
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In the heart of Your child,
O Father, stir up only flames,
for the sake of the whole Mystical Body.
Here is my desire, my sole desire. I live for it; I will die for it. I will live for it through all eternity. It pursues me during the day and illuminates my night. It is my nourishment, my health, my passion, and my immense happiness:
To give myself credit for nothing, to feel my total incompetence, to possess nothing as mine; and in proportion to this voluntary and acknowledged weakness, to be totally bound to live Your Life, to be abandoned unreservedly to the One Who is eternal– to my Father, Who loves me beyond all measure, and to the Holy Trinity, Who burns to make me participate in Its Divine Life; to be totally bound to wait for the One Who possesses all and Who desires to give all. What unspeakable joy!
I know it. I feel it. Your fire, O my God, surrounds me, pierces me through, insinuates its way into the most intimate fibers of my heart, fills to overflowing the almost infinite caverns of my soul, and responds to my littleness by making me a participant of Your Divinity.
My lips speak of daily events; my eyes behold houses and trees; my ears hear conversations. But in all of this my heart sees only shadows and illusions. You alone, adorable Trinity, are the reality. It is You Whom I seek; it is You for Whom I thirst. Toward You alone my lips, my eyes, my hands, and my ears aspire…..
From the book: Descending Fire, The Journal of a Soul Aflame, compiled from the writings of Father John Petit (pseudonym)
pp. 114-115
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