I was sitting in the dark cold outdoors just now looking at the new snow on the ground and in trees illuminated by street and porch lights, in a chair in what I've come lovingly to call my spot - a spot in which I tend to become open and empty and quiet inside, and in which our Lord seems to see fit to avail Himself of my attention. Remaining in His Love came to mind. Just that. But then much more started coming. And so now, here I am.
Remaining in His Love. It can be likened to an immersion. He overcomes us and overcomes our limitations, and we become drenched breached saturated bathed penetrated permeated steeped infused imbued transformed, through and through, with His Divine Love. His Love enables and empowers us to love others. Sometimes we are mere channels for His love directly to them.
In any event, while we are in His Love He loves through us, through our faculties. The distinct advantage being that He is all-knowing as it relates to meeting needs. Unlike us. It's as wonderful to be aware of His Love for me as it is being aware of His love happening through me on behalf of others. We can't love without Him.
I just recalled a quote I put at the top of my blog that is quite fitting here. I came across it earlier today while posting missing writings.
"It is God's work that has done it, not my work. I am like a pencil in His hand. The pencil has only to be used." --Mother Teresa of Calcutta
Also this, nothing, before I close. That you've had the prayer of Charles de Foucauld on your refrigerator to see for eighteen years is one of those things that, when I read it, jarred my whole interior with His knowing and His way of delightfully surprising me when I think nothing could surprise me anymore.
And to Ruth - Maybe I understand, maybe very clearly, and I'm very moved by your account of things. Affirmed, too, in some ways.