What gave Eugene the inner strength to keep him going in the face of all the difficulties he was facing? As he reflected on the course of events which led him to where he was, he was aware of God’s constant help in a noticeable manner – and hence of his own obligation to live in a state of receptivity to God’s grace.
I should add that since my departure from France and especially since I have been at Rome, the good God aids me with everything in such a tangible way that I cannot see how it would be possible not to keep in my soul a constant feeling of gratitude which prompts me to praise, to bless, to thank God, Our Lord Jesus Christ, and in due proportion the holy Virgin, the holy Angels and the Saints to whom I believe myself indebted for the protection and the consolations that are mine.
That in no way prevents me from confessing twice a week and constantly finding greater or lesser reason for humbling myself before God ….
Letter to Henri Tempier, 10 January 1826, EO VII n 217
“Cast your cares on God; that anchor holds.” Frank Moore Colby
Although I am able to take a measure of joy in Eugene’s consolation in the Lord I find myself this morning unable to muster up anything more than that. I have sat here for two hours unable to move away – only because if I were to get up and leave – where would I go to? Symbolic a little but ……
This morning I am acutely aware of my aloneness and of the struggles and doubts that do more to separate me than to make me a ‘part of’. There is a dryness that leaves me thirsty but having drunk from the God’s cup of love I do not know what else would suffice. That sounds so ‘pious’ and yet it is the truth and I am unsure of how to describe it using any other terms. Realising that I have no answers within myself, no quick fixes (I have long known this but sometimes the very real awareness of it is hard to sit with for it is much more than just words) and so I find myself feeling a bit confused, lost. It is like being in a small boat on the seas at night. There is no raging storm or high seas, no thick fog, yet no overly bright stars, I have no anchor to toss overboard and keep me stable. All is calm and yet I feel adrift.
Here am I Lord, preparing to teach and share and give a piece on prayer while at this moment feeling so very disconnected. My poverty seems to be glaring and I can but ask for prayers, for it is beyond me to quit or walk away. Hear me and have mercy.
Thank God you are drifting!
A few years ago I threw away my oars. I realised I wasn’t getting anywhere; just tiring myself out. Now I just “drift” along in the current that is Christ. I have no idea where I am headed but I am sure He does. That is my faith.
And in the meantime, there is beauty in this decaying but still solid vessel I ride in – have you ever noticed how beautiful weather-beaten wood is and how indestructibe it seams? And, as I keep moving along, there is ever new beauty all around me in this valley (of life).
On this day especially (I have no idea why 🙂 ), I am very excited about what unforseen adventures, what experiences lay ahead.