What My Soul Can Bear

Tonight I realized that Jesus does not give me what He needs or wants to give me in a moment of grace, but ONLY WHAT MY SOUL CAN BEAR.  This thought came to me as I began rereading part of UNDER THE GAZE OF THE FATHER, p. xxvi.  The author is explaining one such moment in the life of Ven. Conchita:

“That day she heard again:  The Father is here looking at you…the Son, offering you His Blood…and the Holy Spirit beating His wings to come to  your soul.  The Three Divine Persons desire to enter your heart, and to form in it their throne…their cross…their nest…This I heard, and I remained confused…overwhelmed… inflamed before such condescension.  He made me see His greatness…power… immensity… Wisdom…and Love…and I (…) placed my forehead on the ground, and I opened the doors of my soul to that most Blessed Trinity, which is real…imprisoned… locked…in a host.’

Just Friday I wrote my post,“HIDDEN FORCE,” which begins with my little question to Jesus in the tabernacle, “What are you doing in there?” and His response, “I am knitting together the broken universe.” I am dumbfounded by the comparison of my little conversation with the Lord, then Conchita’s situation—same Lord, same host—but what a profound difference!  Conchita seems to me , in her being overwhelmed, confused, inflamed, to be a perfect example of a soul receiving only what it can bear.  No matter how holy, humble, pure the soul, it is bound to be overwhelmed, confused, inflamed by the presence of the Gift  which ever threatens to annihilate our miserable incapacity.  Tears, prostration, abandonment—what other response can there be? Especially since the overwhelming Gift is “real…imprisoned…locked…in a host.”

This is, for me, a vision of Adoration: the adorer—naïve,  unsuspecting, assuming an ordinary posture and understanding, expecting the simplest gift—and the Adored, Holy, Majestic, Pure and Loving beyond all thought and imagination, containing Himself and all the Desires of His manhood and Divinity in a little white host so as not to overwhelm the little one. I have not even begun to process “the most Blessed Trinity, which is real…imprisoned…locked…in a host.”

 

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