Archives

A work in formation

Farewell discourse, Savior and disciples, walking, talking, traversing, not understanding, preparing,
Unification, many rooms in the Father’s house, Heaven adore, the plenty a splendor, eternity endeavor,
‘I have been with you for so long’, desolation not an option, mortification, accepting commandments, denying desire, failing,
Father, the Holy Spirit, the Word, obedience a haven, resource love, failures fading, a step back forward,
The passion consumes, while presuming nothing, advance slowly, intensely intent, crawling advent,
Do few things, yet do them well, listen, wait, confess, pray profusely, sweat yet not blood, communion, breathe, be still amid a beating heart,
‘Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid’,
Attending mass, attentive, aware,
‘Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day’,
‘In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety’,
‘As we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ’.

Receiving in the House of God, an unworthy servant blossoms into a friend,
In the world, inevitably disturbed, shaken, wolves in sheep clothing prey, leering, pridefully lusting, circumambulating, hunting while picking fresh meat from their teeth, yearning to be, hungry denial,
Needing, false teachers assume power, insincere profession, leading astray, pretense, exercising judgment betrayed, falling snowflakes into the fire, identity lost within damnation, misery adores company,
‘Rise let us go hence’, true teacher prevail, call in a clear voice, winged words in silence, usurp incessant noise, cessation, liberate identity, integrity graced,
Perfection a process, propagate, proliferate, prune the fruit in order to produce, multiply, magnify magnificence, sweet consolation not, a bitter reward,
Stand alone in order to fall, independence generate generational enslavement, movement of wickedness, self-will run riot, dominoes falling, affecting, an island despair produces waves,
Going out, weakness bemoans the need to assert, dependence creates abundant freedom, together a man speaks properly into himself, broadening understanding, decreasing to increase, a prisoner released from confinement,
Rise above the world, abiding in Christ, death and joy to be full, welcoming, inviting time, open, honest, and willing, preserve peace, the smiling heart of a suffering unity,
Friend and foe, charity prevail, the highest perfection, to be hated demands no reciprocation, suffocate wrath, dealing unselfishly, unassuming, natural and pure, simply discreet,
Be strong in unified individuality, proper identity, self-effacing, be a kind pretty face, comprehend, know who Christ is, know who I am, love others, behave, be good, holiness attain, reveal from within,
Abandon appetite attachment to advancing aspiration, banish brilliance, castaway cleverness, ‘A servant is not greater than his master’,
Humility the ultimate tool, the weapon of mass destruction, the annihilating force, the commingling of faith, hope, and charity, be humble, embrace criticism,
No reward, persecution presume, no accolades, adulate suffering, offering woe at the foot of the cross, witness bloody wounds, infuse blood and water,

(To be expanded throughout Holy Week)

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Into Being

Kidnapped, taken away to a foreign land,
Whisked away, nothing an origin,
Power immense, lacking insight,
Strange sights, strange people,
Poking, prodding, engaging, nodding,
Pleasure and pain, feelings,
Sight and emotions, aware,
Contemplating, thinking,
There in a moment, ordinary
A locked glance, common,
Confirming, all things shared,
Nothing recognized, alien,
Abnormal amidst the normal,
Time and movement, experience,
I am a family man.

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Grace

Such also is the thought of St Teresa. In her ‘Interior Castle’ she teaches that “all our desires, all our meditations, all our tears, all the efforts we can make (in order to raise ourselves to supernatural quietude), are useless; God alone gives this heavenly water to whom He pleases; often He gives it just when we least think of it.” However, she requires as an indispensable disposition “humility, humility, since it is by this virtue that Our Lord allows Himself to be overcome, and is induced to grant all our desires…Let a soul be humble and detached from everything, in very truth, however, and not merely in imagination which often deceives, and the Divine Master, I have no doubt, will grant her not only this grace, but even many others surpassing all her desires.” –Abbot Vital Lehodeyvital_lehodey_tit_1

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Spiritual deconstruction

There can be no greater or livelier faith than to believe that God is managing our affairs with admirable wisdom and love when he seems to be destroying and annihilating us, when he frustrates our holiest designs, when he exposes us to calumny, obscures all our lights in prayer, dries up our devotion and fervor with aridities, ruins our health with infirmities and languors, reduces us to incapacity for doing anything at all.  –Abbot Vital Lehody

Dom Vital Lehody

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A prayer from Susan Muto

Lord make me mindful of your nearness in every situation of my life.  Help me to understand every happening as coming from Your hand.  Ask Mary to help me see that.  Lord never let my best plans and projects stand in the way of Your providential plan.  Encourage me to be a channel, a vessel, an instrument, of its unfolding, in all the little things that make up my life.  Lord eat with me, dress with me, drive with me, shop with me.  Be there where I am, in my here and now, every day ordinary life.  Mary stay at my side, so that I can see your Son in my situation.  Sometimes Lord you know that I feel like a lost child rooming in a world that has become a foreign country.  Let me always be led again to the place where I belong.  Do not let me feel like a lonely ship lost in the night.  Lead me to friends, to a faith community.  Lead me to the Eucharist, so that where ever I am I will be found there with you.  Lord you know that there is much about me that is still like a little child.  I need to be shown.  I need to be led.  I need to be fed.  Give me solid food Lord.  The solid food of Your Word Lord, of the tradition I love.  Let it feed me feed me when I most need to be nurtured, when I feel in danger of forgetting.  St Alphonsus De Liguori on Mary offering her Divine Child in the Temple: ‘Consider Mary on her journey to Jerusalem to offer her son.  She hastens her steps toward the place of sacrifice and she herself bears the beloved victim in her arms.  She enters the Temple, approaches the altar and there, beaming with modesty, devotion and humility, she presents her Son to the Most High.  In the meantime, the holy Simeon, who had received a promise from God that he should not die without have first having seeing the expected messiah takes the divine child from the hands of the Blessed Virgin, and enlightened by the Holy Spirit, announces to her, how much the sacrifice, which she then made of her son, would cost her and that with him, her own blessed soul would also be sacrificed.  Yes, she will suffer in her heart.  Her compassion alone for the sufferings of this most beloved son was the sword of sorrow which is to pierce the heart of the mother as Simeon foretold.  Mary, I say, knew all these torments that her son was to endure, but in the words addressed to her by Simeon and all the minute circumstances of the sufferings, internal and external, that were to torment Jesus in His passion were made known to her.  She consented to all with a constancy which even filled the angels with astonishment.  All this was involved in her sacrificial offering of her son this day in the temple.  She consented completely to the will of God and the sword was indeed to pierce her heart and soul.  To understand the violence which Mary had to offer herself in this sacrifice, it would be necessary to understand the love that this mother bore to Jesus.  How ineffable the son.  How noble the mother.  How much it cost her and how much strength of mind she had to exercise this act by which she sacrificed the life of so amiable of Son to the cross.  And so we pray.  Mary, we know that your sufferings did not end in the temple that day.  They only began.  From that time forward, during the whole life of Jesus, oh Mary, you had constantly before your eyes, the death and the torments, he was to endure.  Oh most compassionate lady, I cannot believe that you could have endured for a moment, so excruciating of torment, without expiring under it, had not God himself, the spirit of life, sustained you.  In every moment, you lived dying.  For in every moment, you were assailed by the sorrow of the certain death of your beloved Jesus.  Mother of God, grant through your prayers, that we to will be able to walk with Jesus this path that is the fall and the rising of many.  Oh Mary, make of us an offering, this day, in the temple of our situation. 

Amen.

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Man Tower meets Enzio

Towers

Towers

Coming forth from the wagon, Alberto noticed a huge flock of birds descending upon the surrounding mountain trees. Vast and dark in flock, the winged ones alighted upon branches, disappearing amongst leaves; silent, an unseen legion of unknowing witnesses. The diminutive castle, ancient in appearance, harmonized with its surrounding, appearing as if the creator of the mountain created the castle itself. ‘Quaint’, Alberto thought, ‘he has his own castle and tower’. An admirer of no homes, entering, he admired the miniature Mount Subasio fortress. Blindfolds removed, the young women stood within. They did not appear disturbed, yet they would not speak. They knew the disdain Montaninus possessed for them. The man would sink a blade into their heart as soon as look at them. The wicked knew well the ways of evil intent, sensing wicked presence precisely.

“Montaninus you gratuitously bring Man Tower to my humble maternal tower, the mother of my elderly years—I think of my home as my mother. I draw to a close my life through a concentration upon birth. A proper birth needs a mother. My home provides, a father in waiting divides. The comfort of the creator enticing within. The seeker follows. The Lord is God, the mighty God, the great king over all the gods. He holds in his hands the depths of the earth and the highest mountains as well. He made the sea; it belongs to him, the dry land, to, for it was formed by his hands. The birds egress from their northern lairs. I am sure you noticed them. They find rest once more in the mountain forest I call home. It is a good sign. They perched as you arrived. They watch, intending protection for our meeting. My guardian angel is with them, lifting their wings. Your guardian angel is amongst them also Man Tower. She is a cherub, barely able to perceive due to the burden of many tears and her attention constantly affixed upon the Almighty. You should take greater heed of your little protector knight of no mercy. Tell me what is happening, Man Tower, for I feel a child is born, a baby you observed being baptized. You saw something. You saw a gifted baby for all. The days immediately following the Epiphany octave; the day of Our Lord’s baptism in the River Jordan by the saintly John—one who would dare to identify him as the sacrificial lamb of the Old Testament, the visitation of the magi—kings of the gentile world knowing and honoring. There was a terrible three day wind storm after the baptism of the baby you observed. The forces were so strong trees were uprooted throughout our homeland; men and animals killed in the obliteration. All things are a sign unto themselves and the world enveloping them. I have been meditating upon all this, contemplating deeply the mysteries you present, and the mysteries presented to you. Totality includes individual welfare within the greater battle and your battles are so intense. The Benedictines at Mount Cassino communicated to me the entirety of events through a winged messenger. We share an affinity for messenger doves. God is screaming and we share the news a thousand years after the death of his son. God has placed amongst us one to renew the spirit, one to enflame the heart, one to open ancient doors while closing contemporaries, a thousand years is too long. One is here to bolster the collapsed church, lifting it from the muck and mire of centuries of waywardness. A thousand years have passed and still we are left wanting, longing for love. No one needs to declare it has been over a thousand years since Our Lord’s departing and resurrection, since the news is so startling in silence, conspicuous in the absence of a second coming. His return waits, patience perseveres, while temptations assault. The ways of God are stern; similar to yours, mighty killer of the battlefield. The gift God sends displays his power. The baby will parch the earth, burning from it foulness. Immediately years of famine will result, suffering for over five years, struggling to feed one another families will be ripped asunder. Many will die. The elderly crossing over before their allotted time, the children crying to the distress of their mothers, the sick being consumed by their illness due to a lack of strength, all suffering as they self-righteously convince themselves they should not suffer. Suffering will become a means of rebellion, discernment is poor amongst the rabble. It always has been thus the need for prophets and the crucifying of a Divine Son. There will be five plus years of cleansing through famine.”

The overwhelming prodigious words of the old man descended, seemingly coming from the castle itself. The elderly man and his space were as one, his words coming forth from his surroundings. All at once, slowly intense, in the manner of casting a spell, the old man spoke his words as if he drew them from his creation, his home. Wearing the black and white vestments of a Cistercian monk, he circled Alberto, placing his right hand upon his back, rubbing to create friendliness, the easing of tension. Alberto slipped into a battle trance, absorbing the assault of words, the immensity of profound ideas rapidly rained upon him. Clearing his mind of distractions, as he would upon the battlefield, his awareness focused into acute perception, holding not to ideas, rather opting for intuition.

“So here is Man Tower. Much is spoken of you. It is good I do not honor words, words are for those who desire to manipulate. I have grown into an aged man who understands the heart. For where a man’s heart rests, there rests his treasure. The mysteries of life intrigue me more than the gossip and scheming of man. The sight of many is limited. The sight of one alone, amidst the ancient, solely answering to Christ, discerning proper advice, can penetrate piercingly. We will spend time together. There is more. Now though I must spend time with my beloveds, my sweethearts who fill my life with joy.”

The two young ladies, giggled, one of them walking to Enzio the Wise with a limp that previously did not exist.

“Papa it is so good to see you. Your little sunshine has been miserable, overwhelmed by sadness. My heart rejoices in your presence. In such a cruel world, you are a refuge of the greatest kindness and giving.”

“We missed you so much.”

“Your leg my darling, what has happen to you?”

“It is nothing my honor. You must not think of it. You are older, in need of greater comfort than me. How is your health? Are you feeling fine? It is you who should receive caring attention.”

“No. It is not about me. Your leg? It is awful the way you walk. I must know, tell me young pretty one. If I could, I would reach up to the sky and bring the clouds down for you. Mountains I would smash, if they dared to present themselves as an obstacle. Waters I would divide in order to allow your passing. Anything I could do, I would do for you. You are my sunshine and without your rays of exquisiteness I wallow in sorrow.”

“I hurt my leg servicing my family. My mother is sick and now her sister and her children live with us. I have to care for all of them. Cleaning, cooking, bathing the old and young, male and female, I must care for them all. You know my father was killed in war. I try my best kind noble sir, yet I stepped in a hole while carrying water and damaged my leg. It is nothing. I will suffer through it. It is enough to see your kind face and know in the world goodness lives.”

“You give me too much credit. It is you that brings joy. You work so hard for your family. You give so much for others. If I could only do more for you, ease all of your burdens. Yet it is not for me darling. Thy will be done. Only one purpose exists for you. Becoming a saint is your calling in life, the attainment of heaven your sole concern. The underprivileged have nothing more to do than focus upon salvation. It is a rite of passage. The nobly wealthy carry responsibility, yet all are burdened with accountability.”

The other young lady approached the staunchly posed Enzio.

“Sir it is good we came to you at this time for I also have troubles. My husband to be, the man I have told you so much about, has run off with a woman of ill repute, a wench of drunkenness and ill begotten ways. I loved him since childhood. I thought he would be a good husband, yet he could not refrain from evil ways. I am embarrassed to tell you the news. I am a fool. Too easily, I give my heart away. The wretched man robbed my father before leaving for unknown lands with the trull. I know not what to do. My errors have cost my family their reputation. I considered suicide, convinced it is the only solution. I prepared to throw myself from a bridge into the Chiagio when my sweet friend, in all the pain she suffers, persuaded me to seek your wisdom. And my father, my lord, I could not bring the shame of leaving him to the wicked tongues of neighbors. Even enduring the harshest of cruelties, a daughter breaks her father’s heart by the taking of her own life. Cowardly escaping into death only means further misery due to the reality I would be betraying those who cared for me as an infant. In your company, once again, I find comfort, yet left to my own devices I allow terror to seize my life.”

“Oh my sweet children. Both of you, my lovelies, endure pain that reaches deep into the depths of your souls. Never underestimate the malice of the wicked one. He thrills in your demise. He wants to see you tormented. God only desires happiness for you. Come let us go inside and sit by the fire, consoling one another. We are together. We have one another to inspire joy, to lift each other’s heart to Our Lord. I will read you some scripture, poetry, and tell you stories of my youth. I can tell you how I was able to overcome obstacles placed in my path. You can tell me stories of your childhood. I love stories of animals and discovery. Possibly, I can inspire you, lead you closer to God. It is my heart’s sole intent. Through the realization of my heart may you find the strength and solace necessary to manage the travesties of life. Inside, there is hope. Inside, there is charity. Inside, there is faith.”

“My kind dignified sir your words always arouse faith, hope and charity, however at this time I also need other assistance.”

“Why of course angel. Treasures I can and will supply. Both of you must know I will always be there for you.” Enzio addressed Alberto. “Man Tower explore my land. It prepares for glorious bloom. It will also prepare your soul for our words together. I must care for these sweet children of God. I will ring the bell in time, calling you to come for food and conversation. Montaninus show our esteemed guest about.”

The elderly one escorted the two pretty young women into his home. It seemed the two were trying to outdo each other in the amount of tears they could shed. Alberto watched in amazement. Damning Enzio earlier in the day, the young ladies now expertly portrayed innocent victims confronted by heartrending experiences. Within the tavern it was obvious what the two were. They were harlots; women of song, wine, men and nights of excess, entertaining at the tavern, leading bawdy drinking songs and dancing for the drunkards. Boyfriends multiplied.

“It is best not to judge Alberto. It only confounds to consider his behavior with those young ladies. The younger one has a hateful heart, which grows harder with every visit. I watch her closely, fearing she will explode in violent behavior. I have warned Enzio, yet he says I worry too much. He is truly one of wisdom. It is a strange game he plays with them. I will show you his water garden. You can witness his brilliance. This matter regarding the two young ladies I cannot understand. I have tried to convince him of their true nature. He will not listen, declaring them to be blessed children of God.” Montaninus strode to the entryway. “Let us see if we can find the wolf pack. I think you will enjoy observing them. Never have I seen wolves the size of those that stalk the lands of Enzio.”

Alberto could hear the water falling before he was able to see the magnificent site. The old man managed to divert a stream, forcing the water to flow over self-created rocky formations. The cascading series of step-down waterfalls, shimmering with whiteness in its plummeting, emptied into standing water, a pond. Disregarding his clothing and footing, Alberto walked amidst the water, admiring the lovely sound and beautiful images. Birds gathered as trout swam in the crystal clear pond water. Plant life flourished, providing a canopy over various spaces. A woodchuck slept in one of the rocky cubby holes; a bevy of lotuses blossoming a top their leaves sunning beneath. Squirrels pranced within the trees and upon the ground. Alberto made his way to the center waterfall, the largest. Pouring over accumulated slab rock, uproariously, the water fell. Gravity pulling, the descending water showered a life-size crucifix carved from stone. Alberto penetrated the water, placing himself before Jesus’ dead body continuously washed. He realized up close, details of the statue were not highly defined. Shoreline viewing presented a blurred, vibrating, crucifix, hydrolysis shrouding. Up close, nothing more defining could be attained. Alberto moved completely underneath the water, running his hand over the crucifix. He wished Riccio could witness the wonderful chiseling. His squire taught himself to be a skillful carver. He would appreciate the old man’s artwork. Alberto thoroughly soaked himself, cleansing himself underneath the water. The water was cold, increasing in flow the past several days due to an increase in higher elevation snow melting. Feeling the bite of the bitterly cold water, he was thinking of Ricco. The young man, he no longer thought of as a boy. The killing of the bull made him proud.

The time with his mother and training Ricco lifted Alberto from the alienation he so deeply entrenched during his time under Barbarossa, throughout his whole life. Amongst many, he was alone. Amidst his armor, violent extremes became a sheltering reality. Establishing a beastly state, he manically pursued status as the cruelest of knights. Constraints lifted, lucidity intact, he freed himself to do evil, placing the mask of victimhood over his soul. He opened doors his deranged childish mind feared not in the least. Death meant nothing. Once open, doors that should have never been opened would not close. There were consequences. Negative energy, forces of evil, poured through. The wounded child became an authentic wicked man; the innocent one attaining the inhuman through time and hate. The innocence that allowed him to give birth to his wounded thoughts and actions was eradicated in the aftermath. Communication never a strong characteristic for Alberto as a child, it became impossible as he transformed into the Man Tower, or the Fierceness of Silence as Montaninus called him. There were other names: the Ravager, the Vanquisher, as well as Polyphemus.

Underneath the manmade waterfall, resting against the crucifix lacking detail, Alberto bathed under the falling water, giving no consideration to the souls in purgatory burning through coldness in God’s presence. He stripped himself of all clothing. The cold water soothed. Moments amassed to this moment. Peace managed to emerge. Stripped down in clothing, lacking armor for years, teaching one dependent upon him, easing a mother into death, malleability emerged. Now he cleansed in the old man’s waterfall. Montaninus watched, understanding to a certain degree. Here was the extreme knight he knew from warring days, an unpredictable man prone to abnormal behavior, seeking a loftier existence, a temporal warhound mystic.

Slightly annoyed, Montaninus realized he would have to attain clothing for the giant. He wanted to search out the wolves and Man Tower could not go naked, or in soaked clothing. He made his way into Enzio’s home, remarkably able to find an oversized monk’s robe similar to the style Enzio wore. In various sizes, the strange old man stocked over twelve of the robes. Montaninus never noticed the fact before. Returning to the water garden, he found Alberto still soaking underneath the falling water, positioned at the feet of the crucifix

“Let’s be off wild man. I want to find the wolves. You have to be freezing. Come now remove yourself from the water.”

Alberto obeyed, dressing himself in the robe.

“A monk’s habit?”

“It is all the old eccentric possesses.”

“I would like to see the wolves.”

“You are speaking? Did the cold water loosen your brain?”

Montaninus, also having adorned a monk’s robe, led the way as the men left the water garden and made their way into the forest. Hidden atop a cliff, Montaninus explained the excellence of the vantage point. He knew the forest from the days of his youth. His parents would send him to spend time with Enzio, learning scripture, and the ways of the old recluse. Within the hour, the two spotted something moving. Moving stealthy, they positioned themselves above the motion and in front of the advancement. The clearing they spied upon soon greeted the slow moving animal they tracked. It was an old horse, stumbling more than walking. Out of its right mind, the beast walked as if it was bound for its own funeral. As the feeble horse made its way toward the center of the clearing, a rushing noise followed by a chorus of growling burst upon the scene. The wolves made their appearance. Circumambulating before assuming attack positions, the wolves lowered their heads, bearing teeth in unison. The horse halted. Conceding to death, it hopelessly waited. The largest of the wolves, the size of a pony, moved forward.

Mesmerized by its raised lips and exposed savage teeth, Alberto marveled at the idea of being accompanied in battle by such a beast. He recalled the Roman Falvious Aetius, a general who led a remarkable halting of the advancement of Atilla the Hun in Gaul—superior numbers of horseback warriors staunched by a smaller number of riderless soldiers—engineering, siege engines, weaponry, proving the equal of the amassing of men and horses, Falvious rode with a wolf. The downing of the horse was over quickly, the tired beast never resisting, conceding to death before the first attack. The killing completed, Montaninus and Alberto watched throughout the feasting. The wolves fought ferociously amongst one another for prime feeding spots. Bloodied and sullied, they rested near the corpse once satisfied. The leader of the pack sat panting, looking about. His wandering eyes, passing by Montaninus and Alberto, paused. Standing, retracing his vision, sniffing the air, he studied the location of their hiding.

“Those are the wolves of Enzio. You witnessed them at their best. Their leader senses our watching. His stomach is full, he will do nothing. If he was hungry he would behave differently. He would wander in the opposite direction with the intention of circling back behind us. Enzio claims the wolves know him, leaving him alone. I know he walks through the forest with his walking stick unconcerned. Never has he encountered trouble. However, I say, with beasts like that calling the forest home, I would not be so brave. Let us be off. By now, the crazy old man should be through with the immature company. He is excellent with food. He will have something made, most likely a tasty stew and bread. Watching the wolves feast must have made you hungry. For a warrior, such is the case. The wolves remind me of you in battle: focused, thorough, and efficient.” Montaninus laughed at his own humor.

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Chosen One

How Some Men Are Drawn by God Without Their Knowing It

I have loved her and sought her out from my youth and have chosen her for my bride”. (Book of Wisdom)

An undisciplined spirit, as it first ventured forth, strayed onto the paths of error. There, eternal Wisdom in an indescribable spiritual form confronted him and drew him by means both pleasant and unpleasant until it brought him to the right path of divine truth. And, when he reflected deeply on how wondrously he had been drawn, he addressed God thus: “Dear gentle Lord, since I was a child, my spirit has been searching with unslaked thirst for something. And what this was, Lord, I have never yet fully grasped. For many a year, Lord, I have pursued it feverishly, yet could never attain it because I never really knew what it was; and yet it is something that draws my heart and soul to itself and without which I cannot ever really find peace. Lord, in the early days of my childhood I would search for it as I saw others do before me—in creatures. And more I sought, the less I found; and the closer I came, the farther away I got. Concerning every form that I looked at I heard an inner voice, and before I would occupy myself with it completely or devote myself to it in peace, it would say: ‘This is not what you are searching for’. Always I had this force driving me away from all things. Lord, my heart is raging to possess it because I want it….

Response of eternal wisdom: Don’t you recognize it? It has, after all, lovingly embraced you and has often stood in your path until it gained you for itself alone.

The servant: Lord, I never saw or heard it at all. I don’t know what it is.

Response of eternal wisdom: That is not surprising. It was caused by your intimacy with creatures and your unfamiliarity with it. But now open your inner eyes and see who I am. It is I, eternal Wisdom, who chose you for myself in eternity with the embrace of my eternal providence. I have blocked your path whenever you would have been separated from me if I had let you be. You always found something repugnant in all things. This is the surest mark of my chosen ones, that I want them all for myself.

–Henry Suso ‘Little Book of Eternal Wisdom’
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