Extinguish these miseries,
since no one else can stamp them out;
and may my eyes behold you,
because you are their light,
and I would open them to you alone.
Reveal your presence,
and may the vision of your beauty be my death;
for the sickness of love
is not cured except
by your very presence and image.
Today I am shell shocked. The evening of entertainment psychically affected me more than I considered. The loud music, entertaining for the evening, in totality was sensory overload. Mass this morning, followed by a Bible study left me still rattled. The Bible study needs explored in the sense that good people administered and attended, yet overall it left me hollow. Clever insights into scripture have become superfluous, meaningless in the sense that a deeper way has become etched into my soul. Humble participation, not being critical, not needing to provide astounding insight, not needing in anyway, just simple fellowship is what God graced upon the experience. Benediction with Poor Clares, a communal Rosary, and adoration finally restored a sense of order. It is firmly becoming apparent that prayer, silent and communal, is my path toward perfection. I am content and accomplishing the most in silence, acquiescence and divine adulation. In terms of recovery from alcoholism and spiritual fitness, discursive thinking and conversation are healthy in regards to constructive social interaction, gracefully wasting time, however something deeper occurs when I open myself in prayer. God is working upon me in ways I cannot share with others. A spiritual director is abiding, constructive in understanding and advice, yet intimacy does not exist. It is dangerous territory, yet profound. Patience and the understanding that a sense of grieving is necessary right now in order for proper cleansing is his message. Novel writing is flourishing and for this I am grateful. My former spiritual partner I have been encountering. It is difficult, yet I place it in proper perspective. I have entered into a phase that demands leaving her behind, yet I am so convinced I have so much to offer her. I properly love her. My heart and mind yearns for her. She will never feel the same. She will never truly see me for who I am. She needs to see me in alignment with her delusions and within her brokenness. As one moves forward in spiritual maturity, I am convinced there becomes a detachment with others on the deepest levels. Loving, still able to connect socially, few will be able to match the intensity of growth for those immersed within a deep prayer life. For the chosen, God speaks the loudest in stillness and silence, and that message does not translate to worldly affairs. Presence is the only visible consolation. People will be able to see it, yet comprehension on a deeper level will evade. My former spiritual partner will be among them. She will witness me in mass, knowing in her heart something is happening to me, yet she will never properly understand. Her distance is monumental. I grow stronger, confident in identity, accepting of myself, spiritually prospering, while sadness dominates my disposition. People come at me in waves. I feel them, loving, embracing, however internally I recognize a greater longing. I will not replace her simply for the sake of covering over the pain. I accept the pain, offering my heart, authenticity, and tears to God. I loved her in a way God understands. I am confident He approves, even if my passion became verbally unruly. I knew I had something on the deepest level to offer, yet she could not receive. It hurts, and to see her now only screams of brokenness, an inability to interact in a profoundly spiritual manner. During the Bible study, healthy camaraderie transpired. My social world within the church expands. A Vietnamese woman showered photo album after photo album upon me. The intriguing photos documenting her friend in Houston experiencing the Eucharist in marvelous supernatural ways. The photos display hallucinatory Hosts floating through the air, light rays beaming in extraordinary ways, talk of angels visually descending and ascending, three days of darkness, earthquakes and thunderstorms, Our Holy Mother and Christ’s face appearing within the Eucharist—all of it tremendous and animated conversation. The photos must be seen to be appreciated, yet still it all just makes me smile lovingly. The woman’s enthusiasm I cannot share, while her attention and company I cherish. The supernatural just makes me chuckle quietly, not scoffing just finding it ridiculous in need. She is a splendid woman and I am happy we will be friends, however a deeper spiritual connection will never take place. My former spiritual partner and I will no longer be connected. There is nothing I can do yet continue forward upon my path of prayer, never once questioning the wisdom of God, working only towards internal cleansing.
St John of the Cross Adoring
