Many arguments, vindications, justifications emerge, yet within them is the evil promptings of wasted energy, to pursue that which never should be allowed to entangle. The tongue and pen remain silent. The mind struggles. It is a monumentally difficult task for me not to fight, to throw a fit and demand. Satan lures with self-righteousness, instigation into a voice declaring war against that which should be understood. Opposed to brutal confrontation, purity and perfection are desired, prayer a gift of silence. A gift of the Holy Spirit: ‘understanding’ allows insight, a penetrating comprehension of matters so the light and silence of God is understood, the broken ways of men and woman seen within truth, the fracturing of lives provided the grace of not being judged, compassion filling the heart and mind, darkness illuminated by the light of God. Disregarding motivation and consequence, the in-your-face demand for conflict, Holy Spirit graced ‘understanding’ allows patience and peace. It is the practice of saints.
Thoughts were appeased with scripture, the story of Jezebel meditated upon. Jehu is an amazing Israelite king. There is something he does in the following scene I find subtly marvelous, trusting in God during his cleansing of the world from evil, holding to silence. Jezebel, possessing a spirit of control and manipulation, trusting only in herself, prideful in the adorning of herself in that which she knows is the time of her death, calls out to Jehu, asserting control of the moment, unable to hold her tongue and need to demand supremacy. Even to her end, she is insistent upon establishing she is the master of the moment: the Jezebel spirit. She is a woman consumed by control and power, a spirit of domination–the antithesis of the handmaid of the Lord. Mary, the Immaculate Conception, is defined through Jezebel. Jezebel announces the splendor of Mary. Mary is the servant of the Lord, the woman amongst women who majestically surrenders self-will in favor of obedience to divine will. Jehu never rebukes Jezebel. He never answers her. He never acknowledge her words, her need to demand, her improper negotiations ring out unheard. Jehu, a warrior of God, understands the nature of evil, the wicked ways of the Jezebel spirit. Trusting in God, he looks to others, knowing evil subjugates, evil makes enemies with its every breath. He instantly forms alliances, calling out for Jezebel’s very servants to throw her to her death. The servants oblige. Jezebel’s self-willed ways of beautification, self-enhancement prove futile. God allows her to be trambled by horses, her remains eaten by dogs.
When Jehu came to Jezreel, Jez’ebel heard of it; and she painted her eyes, and adorned her head, and looked out of the window. And as Jehu entered the gate, she said, “Is it peace, you Zimri, murderer of your master?” And he lifted up his face to the window, and said, “Who is on my side? Who?” Two or three eunuchs looked out at him. He said, “Throw her down.” So they threw her down; and some of her blood spattered on the wall and on the horses, and they trampled on her. Then he went in and ate and drank; and he said, “See now to this cursed woman, and bury her; for she is a king’s daughter.” But when they went to bury her, they found no more of her than the skull and the feet and the palms of her hands. When they came back and told him, he said, “This is the word of the LORD, which he spoke by his servant Eli’jah the Tishbite, ‘In the territory of Jezreel the dogs shall eat the flesh of Jez’ebel; and the corpse of Jez’ebel shall be as dung upon the face of the field in the territory of Jezreel, so that no one can say, This is Jez’ebel.'”
The man of prayer of emerges significant, allowing prayer to rise supreme. That which I always knew was my strongest gift from God once again becomes my armor and weapon of choice, my vehicle for cleansing and healing. A cold touches my sensibilities, shutting me down a bit, reposing me to bed during moments away from mass and work, reading a book on Joseph, the Holy Family illuminated greater. I find it apropos for the Advent season, a time of reflection and rest. I will shut down this week, expending energy only at work and mass, downloading during idle moments. Hospice activity has struck a standstill. I perceive the matter as an invitation from God to further healing, an opportunity to wipe my heart and mind free from Ann, dissipating the obsession, the ineffective aspiration of sharing life with her. It will take longer, yet it is a prayerful start. I travel interiorly, examining my core, seeking infusion, trusting in God.
