I heard a voice in my heart, that asked me to follow. It was a little thing. I thought, Is that a real voice I hear? Truly? I can’t tell! And the call still remained. Thrumming, pulling, pushing, bothering at the edges of my mind. In a minute. Thrum, pull, push… Finally, I yield – I obey. I do the thing; I go back to the thing I was doing before. But suddenly I notice it, I feel the quiet – the peace. Rest – there is none for the wicked. Heavenly reward for stubborn heart. Oh, sweet – undeserved! Mercy so kind and full. “Gives also the love of a God for the half-hearted worship of man… ” (1)
I said lightly once that I would sell my soul to buy the ultimate treasure. The price, apparently, really is death. A death to self my soul shrinks from with every “sane” thought, every self-preserving and self-loving and soul-protecting thought. How different are our thoughts than those of Pure Love. How “other” the paths our mind naturally takes – naturally? Yes, I suppose it really is that way, for our “nature” is not yet made good, or set right. And to give up the rein, to yield our will, is in very deed a living sacrifice. A negation of our soul’s own desires, impulses and thoughts, and a yielding of our selves to a will other than ours. Oh, help!
But once done, every time – a peace washes over me, and rest comes to a weary soul. How is it that in labor there is rest? By what magical twist in the fabric of reality does the giver receive? I do not know – these things are too large for my small soul to comprehend. I only know that where I was in turmoil, now I have rest. Oh, to remember this moment when comes the next! I suppose I will – at last, arrive where I am now again, next time trouble knocks on heart’s door. Perhaps not without struggle, but still – if all paths lead to Rome – my soul though poor, will blindly stumble its way home.
And yet, there is always a light, isn’t there? Obedience… I have heard that is the thing.
Lord, give me the strength to obey, that I may come Home to light.
(1) Love is Enough, GK Chesterton
Just a little flower, turning her face to find the sun. I don’t always feel his rays on me, but when I do, the warmth and the feeling is simply wonderful, and I never want to be in the shadows again. Isn’t he lovely?