Trust in Him

Sunday, July 11, 2010


Dear Readers,

I am writing to say that as of July 11th, I will not be posting here anymore. There is still much I would like to tell you, but my responsibilities have increased and the time I spend writing is time that should be spent in prayer, study, or rest. I will leave my blog here for you, in the hope that you will continue to read and enjoy past posts that I have written.

I want to thank you all, especially those who have been here a long while and have supported my blog with their comments and kind reviews. I never imagined my work would bring such blessings in so short a time, but it has, and for this I am very thankful. I pray for my readers daily, especially those who are discerning religious vocations, and will continue to do so.

I ask also for all of your prayers as I continue my discernment. It is not final when I will be entering the monastery, it may be only a few short months, or it may be a little longer. In the case of the latter, I may visit my blog again and post something new before then. I am very happy and content with this precious vocation God has given me, and hope that He will give many graces to all of you through my efforts.

I have not been writing very long, and I know that I leave much to be desired. It has taken long hours of prayer and thought for me to come to the decision not to continue posting, and I hope all of you will understand. God bless all of you, and may the peace of Christ be with you always.

In Jesus,

Monday, July 5, 2010

Painting Eternity

The raindrops fell upward into space, deserting existence and enveloping the sun with a weightless mist. Stepping lightly on the suspended crystals danced the glittering queen of time adorned in a silver gown. Reflecting from her gown, and falling in rays from her slender fingers, was a blinding whiteness that penetrated and absorbed the mist. She fell through the thin layer of water into a dark abyss, and ignited it by her presence. On her one hand was a scepter, on her other was a sun.

Color ran with wings on her ankles, and time opened her hands into a universe of space. The immaterial shattered, settling on the stars, and color's eyes opened in each changing sphere. Weeping with the strain her heart melted and fled from her veins, filling the sky of her presence with sad blues and light pinks. With her last breath the entity of light suspended the moment, but change consumed the steady course and set off a magical wave.

Chaos faced order, and now asked a question. The enhanced movement of life was thus begun, the unfinished answer relentlessly pursued the question, disturbing serenity with every movement. The universe swirled and fell into place, beginning the fall that should never begin. Now high, the mists slowly dissolved, exposing the hidden light. The felt of a cloud cradled a child, and the light could only burn his face. A voice raised in song lifted the day, and only the oppression of a originless thought compressed the night. An unprotected gaze looked on, holding the knit fabric of understanding in place.

Flying through the sky on great wings of light was a dove, and gentleness, unknown before compassion, tinkled like a crystal glass. The clouds receded, and settled into mountains, opening a stairway of epic gold. Lined on it's sides were great soldiers in solute, the reddened plumes of their helmets holding the seas in a basin. Their feet, set firmly apart, bore the weight of their rigid backs. At the top of the stair sat an angelic man, and in his hands he held two yellow rods, with which he played a melody on five hundred harps with strings of pure silver. With every thrust of his clever touch a new color inebriated the sky, painting a picture beyond imagination.

Rising behind the melodious harps rose a palace of golden magnificence. Adorned with white flowers, and backed by precious blue, it's spires and domes magnificently fastened to the air. Young girls, dressed in light pink gowns and crowned with roses of red and yellow, processed through every hall. Each bore in her hand a tiny spark, and in a never ending stream they stepped into the hall of pearls and rose to kiss the King, their light fingers touching his cheek.

Present yet distant the happenings of life and death took form within the halls. A mass heart beat, like the roar of a lion, penetrated the air. Walking, running, changing, living the events returned to order. Light and color lost their way, and the answer gave way to the question. The babe opened it's eyes from the arms of the cloud, and the seas flowed like rivers from the plumes of the guards. Only the moment, forever suspended, kept the palace from falling into an illusion. Time and space have set their course. Light floods matter, matter floods light, and senses unite to form reason.

This rather... enigmatic work is actually a metaphor of eternity. There is, of course, no way to describe eternity in time. By way of describing the progression of light, however, I have made an attempt to present a picture of this theory. It is, perhaps, a utopia of reason... but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

A Moment in Time (Journal)

Laying in the eternal rest of space,
Testing the trickery of the seasons,
breathing in the sensations of taste,
Senses uniting and weighing reasons.

Dear Jesus,
What consolations you give me! You see I am weak, unable to bear suffering, so you reveal Yourself to me again and again. You see I am oppressed, unable to live with my guilt, and you wash me clean, granting me a new start, day after day. How I love you! Jesus, I trust you. In the midst of my fears and my doubts, I hear your words to St. Faustina echo in my ears "My love deceives no one." Indeed to me you are no phantom, but my Lover. You do not hover in lands above the skies, but your embrace is real and close. You words in my heart are not figments of my mind, but speak with your own Divine voice of the things of God. By your own promise you will not allow me to be deceived, and as a trusting child I look to you for everything. In you I find a stable truth, worthy of all my trust.

My love, my life, could you hear the cry of love from one so weak as me and deny me yourself? Truly the greatest suffering is in separation from you, and the longing which you have placed within my heart is the only thing capable of breaking it. Could you, so full of love, remain distant from my longing heart? My small hands cannot reach you, so deign to come down to me my Jesus, else I shall die from the magnetism of your love. My soul swoons with joy, for you could not remain apart. The blessed lot given to me, though filled with sufferings and trials, is destined to live in you and with you. What joy, and how unworthy I am of you. If it were not for my love, and the fire of your love burning with me, I could not accept.

My heart burns with the desire to love you, but does not turn to ask. For your love inspires life, and thus my soul lives only to feed this flame. No matter where I look, or what I think, I cannot doubt for my heart beats too avidly to allow even a moment of uncertainty. Yes, if I thought you would deny love, I would die from my longing. As it is I live, and my heart breaks beneath the strain. Indeed, I die of a broken heart only to end up in the arms of He who broke it. I care not for myself, or for my life, I care only to be permitted to give this love to you and others. For is not the curse of the damned that of never seeing your face, or exchanging love with you? I could not bear this. Therefore I write, until the day my prayer conveys love better than my pen.

Ah, I see it clearly. Born on the wings of the dawn, treading the clouds, sleeping with the blanket of the trees... Clothed with all the glamor of the flowers, head bedecked with roses, cheeks blessed with oils. He stands looking upon the oceans, and in His right hand He holds them in a basin. The birds fly beneath His feet, and sing their songs in His ear. Blues, and pinks, and yellows fall like rain into the beds of the brightened abyss of sky, and He ascends on the wings of doves. His voice echos in caverns, and resonates smoothly as off of ice from the stone ceilings. The ripples in the ponds betray His footsteps, as the souls of His feet are moistened by the coolness of the springs. Many eyes twinkle within His eyes, the winds blow in His hair, and through His gaze the striking depth of eternity is enigmatically revealed. The strength of His touch firmly holds the earth in place, but gently caresses the living sun. What marvel is it that I should love this King of magnificence and gentle beauty?


Standing on a stone in the midst of the Potomac River Thursday evening,
I saw the light of heaven open it's embrace and descend to kiss the earth.
If only for a moment, my face was illuminated by God's grace;
I saw the dream of hope realized, and took this picture.

Hope is, perhaps, one of the least appreciated virtues. Hope is by definition the confident expectation of obtaining something, theologically expecting that which we can never obtain, and difficult for our human nature to accept. We shortsighted humans often feel our natural hopes disappointed, and dare not allow ourselves greater hopes which could just as easily be destroyed in the end. To hope in those things which our reason tells us must come to be is far easier than hoping in something which we can never understand, and which our guilt tells us could never be true. Yet, if there was no hope, what reason have we to live? If we have no hope, what could motivate us to do good? If we have no hope, how could we believe in God? Hope is just as natural as it is unnatural, and offers just as much security as it does fear. We must allow ourselves this consolation, else we could never be Christian.

Why do we begin to hope in the first place, how do our human minds have knowledge enough to hope in the unfathomable depths of God? Actually, they don't. We hope because God has told us that we should hope, He has made promises to us, and He has already kept many of them. Therefore we hope in heaven, in grace, in love... we somehow believe that the improbable will occur, that a life of poverty will lead to riches, and a life of sacrifice will lead to greater joy. On earth, too, we deign to hope for a good end to our unworthy efforts. We pray with confidence that our words, spoken in the silence of our hearts to God alone, will bring about the salvation of souls. By fasting and mortification we are certain that the events in our own lives will change for the better, and that our discomfort brings future pleasure. This strange contradiction is no contradiction at all... for we do not hope in pain, or empty words, but in the promise of the Almighty God.

When pursuing our vocations hope plays a major part in our discernment. If we did not hope for guidance, and eventual fulfillment, to what purpose would we discern? We know that God calls us each by name, and that He sends His angels to guide us by the hand. We know that He loves and pities us, and that in our weakness, our childlike smallness, He deigns to raise us to the heights of heaven. Therefore, because of this hope that we really do have value through Christ in God's eyes, we seek the greater gifts, the higher virtues. What are we compared to God? We are not even like a grain of sand to His universal immensity. Yet He has called us to higher ways of life, and given to us the power to move His hand and His heart.

If we fail to hope, we can never plan to accomplish anything in our lives, and therefore life is useless. But what of the disappointments? What about when our hope really does come to nothing? So often in our lives we begin to believe something will happen, and then it doesn't. We tend to be afraid of this uncertainty, wondering if perhaps our hope is misplaced, because the end result is painful. But is it not far worse to go through life without ever hoping for anything? If we never hoped that a girl or boy would come to the dance with us, then would we bother to ask? If we never hoped that the Sacraments held grace, would we ever receive them? It takes effort to do anything worthwhile in life, and much of our motivation comes from hope in the result. If we are afraid of disappointment, we must learn to hope in God, to trust that what He allows to happen is for the best, and that in the end our hopes will be realized. Even now we can have faith in the midst of our trials that at least God smiles down on us, and hope that this alone is enough for our happiness.

Let us pray that our hope will always be strong, and sincere, that we may give God the trust that is due Him. Let us pray that we will always pursue the virtue of hope in spite of all our reservations and insecurities, so that we may become the best forms of ourselves and accomplish the greatest works allotted to us. He has promised, and He will do it. Let not your hearts be troubled, for their is a God and He loves humanity.