A Fount Overflowing

 

 'My Heart overflows with great mercy for souls, and especially for poor sinners... It is for them that the Blood and Water flowed from My Heart as from a fount overflowing with mercy.' Jesus to St. Faustina

 

He Can Repair Us

Painting: Van Gogh, At Eternity's Gate

Revisiting Hidden Corners

"Don't be one of those who give God everything but one little corner of their heart, on which they put up a notice board with the inscription: 'trespassers not allowed." (Father William Doyle)

This quote is making me wonder.

I try to give God every part of my heart, truly I do.  Daily I do.

But are there any little corners I might have closed off to Him? "You can have this and this, Lord... but... maybe not that." I don't say it, of course. Not in words.

Yet I ask myself. Am I determined to manage some area(s) of my life the way I want? Am I a bit fearful to turn any particular something over to God, lest He arrange things in a way I might not prefer?

Am I feeling pretty good about having given, maybe, ninety percent of myself to Him - perhaps even patting myself on the back for being so generous, while I cling fiercely to the rest?

If so (and I reluctantly admit that in my case, this IS so), I think perhaps Our Lord is patting my back too, accepting my gift with love. But He does not stop there. I cannot imagine Him "patting my back" without then slipping His arm around me, asking me to invite Him into that corner, encouraging me to let Him take care of anything I've kept away from His love.

"Trust Me," I can almost hear Him saying, and I know this is not an imaginary exercise at all.

His plea for my trust is very real.

With His grace, day by day and step by step, I can let Him come inside the wall. 

Here I stand, knocking at the door.  If anyone hears Me calling and opens the door, I will enter his house and have supper with Him, and he with Me.”  (Revelation 3:20)

Text not in quotes © 2015 Nancy Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org

This is a respost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.' 

Blest am I

It is one of my favorite scenes in Scripture.

Thomas, who had not been present when Jesus appeared to the disciples just after His Resurrection, was skeptical. "'I will never believe it,' said he, 'without probing the nailprints in His hands, without putting my finger in the nailmarks and my hand into His side.' A week later, the disciples were once more in the room, and this time Thomas was with them. Despite the locked doors, Jesus came and stood before them. 'Peace be with you,' He said; then, to Thomas: 'take your finger and examine My hands. Put your hand into My side. Do not persist in your unbelief, but believe!' Thomas said in response, 'my Lord and my God!'" (John 20:25-29)

What strikes me most about this is Jesus' tender mercy to Thomas. There are no reprimands. Our Lord doesn't say "oh you of little faith, why do you doubt? You've got to exercise faith, Thomas! You can do it! Just make up your mind!"

No. Jesus simply offers Thomas the precise help he needs. He invites the disciple to probe and examine His sacred wounds. What an act of mercy! "Yes, it is I," He could be saying. "Come and see."

Thomas, as we know, cried out "my Lord and my God!" To which Jesus responded "You became a believer because you saw Me. Blest are they who have not seen and have believed."

Blest are you. Blest am I. We haven't had the privilege of probing Our Lord's wounds, yet we have believed. We've had other privileges. We have been given the gift of faith. Perhaps at times we've doubted God's love or even His reality, and maybe we've told Him this. I certainly did, years ago, when I said "God, I don’t believe in you, but if you’re real, and if you can hear me, I’m asking you to show me once and for all who or what you are." (the story of that can by found by clicking here). Years later, I still want to fall on my face in thanksgiving for Our Lord's response to my pleading. He gave me the precise help I needed, help that was tailor made for me, at that exact time.

I remember thinking, when I cried out to God that day, that maybe He would show up in the room so I could see Him.  He did not do that. He even let me go on doubting for a tiny bit longer, but He did not leave me alone.

He led me not to probe His physical wounds, but to probe His scriptures. He drew me to examine and appreciate the truth of His Church. He let me experience not His nailprints, but His presence.

Thanks to His great mercy, I believe.

Blest am I.



Text not in quotes © 2015 Nancy Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org 


Painting: Carl Bloch, The Doubting Thomas

The Door of Mercy

'Before I come as a just Judge, I first open wide the door of My mercy.'

Jesus to St. Faustina

The Other Side of That Wall

If I have repented of sin, I've made more than a giant leap toward God.  I have allowed Jesus to break down walls between us and to carry me swiftly into His Presence.  

Today's post is a slightly edited version of one I wrote here over a year ago, for these words of St. Faustina give us a glimpse into what has actually happened.  If I've repented of sin, I may or may not feel any different, but the truth is:  I have been met with great love.

"I saw that God was well pleased with me and, reciprocally, my spirit drowned itself in Him.  Aware of this union with God, I felt I was especially loved and, in turn, I loved with all my soul….   And the Lord said to me, ‘You are the delight of My Heart; from today on, every one of your acts, even the very smallest, will be a delight to My eyes...'  My earthly body was the same, but my soul was different; God was now living in it with the totality of His delight.  This is not a feeling, but a conscious reality that nothing can obscure.”  (St. Faustina, Diary) 

God will not be outdone in generosity.  If I've taken even one step toward Him (no matter how timid the step, no matter how faltering), I can be sure that He is reaching out to receive me.  I am enfolded, encompassed, and totally embraced by Love.

Photo © 2010 Nancy Shuman

This is part of a 'mini'-series' of posts on walls.  To continue in chronological order, click this line.

Lord, Free Me of Sin

The picture of the wall on this post is not "pretty."  It isn't supposed to be.  It is here to represent the thing that walls us off most fully from connecting with God, and that thing is unspeakably ugly.  It is so ugly that our Lord Jesus suffered an excruciating death to free us from it, to break through the wall of it, so we can enter the presence of God.

I am speaking, of course, of the wall of sin.  The thick, dark, grungy wall of sin.  The sin that separates us from God, darkening our minds to the light of Christ and causing us to flee from that light as we might from a searing blaze. 

Hopefully, we are not experiencing a wall that thick as we read this.  However, I daresay many of us have known it, at one time or another, and many live in such bondage today.  It can be hard to even want to get out of it.

Such a wall, can, in time, begin to feel comfortable.  We fool ourselves into thinking of it not as the place of danger it is, but as actually something of a "safe place."  If I cannot perceive God because of this wall, maybe it works both ways (I tell myself).  Maybe He can't see ME.  Maybe He'll forget all about me, and then He won't notice that I'm living in sin.  Maybe there isn't any such thing as sin; I mean, all I have to do is turn on TV to know that "social norms" seldom recognize its reality.

I can do a lot to hide that pesky wall.  Add a bright coat of paint, plant some ivy, maybe even put up a hedge so I don't see the wall at all, in time. Sin can be made to look quite attractive and normal.  Just a spray of denial and a dulling of conscience, and I'm all set.

Except that I'm not.  I'm not set at all.  I'm walled off from God; and in my moments of honesty, I am miserable. 

If I find myself in such a spot as I read this, I don't have to stay there.  If I am in serious sin, I daresay I know it.  I might have tried fooling myself, playing some "everybody's doing it" games in my head.  But I know.

The great thing is that I don't have to break down this wall myself.  There is a hole in it.  It is not a wide hole, but it's large enough for a person to get through.  It is a hole the size of a cross.

photo attribution

"Jesus, uttering a loud cry, breathed His last.  At that moment the curtain in the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom."  (Mark 3-38)

"It is in Christ and through His blood that we have been redeemed and our sins forgiven.:  (Ephesians 1:7)

"If we confess our sins, He who is just can be trusted to forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrong."  (1 John 1:9)

Lord Jesus Christ, I confess to You that I am a sinner.  In particular, I ask forgiveness for these  transgressions___________.  I am so sorry.  If my sins have been grave, help me get to the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Give me the strength to turn away from sin and temptation, and to avoid occasions that would lead me into sin.  Thank You for Your grace and mercy.  I ask You to break down any walls of sin that keep me from You.  Jesus, I trust in You.  Amen.

"I am more generous toward sinners than toward the just.  It was for their sake that I came down from heaven; it was for their sake that My blood was spilled.  Let them not fear to approach Me; they are most in need of My mercy."  (Jesus to St. Faustina)

Text not in quotes © 2013 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org   



This is part of a 'mini'-series' of posts on walls.  To continue in chronological order, click this line.

Why Ever Would I Wait?

What a beautiful gift.

I am presented, today, with a giant slice of humble pie, should I choose to accept it.  I can feast on it all the way until Lent if I wish, and it turns out that Lent doesn't begin for another whole week!

For several days, I've thought tomorrow was Ash Wednesday.  I've gone so far as to wonder why no one else seemed to be mentioning it, why even priests were ignoring it.  I'd felt God already preparing me for Lent, and when I realized my calendar-mistake, I knew that yes... indeed He has been preparing. 

In this, He's not "rushing the season."  After all, He is inviting me to deeper, more concentrated times of prayer, times of Just Being with Him, times of lingering.  Whyever would He wait?

So I'm accepting my slice of humble pie and admitting that, oops, I got my weeks mixed up.  At my age (I'm humbled to admit), it happens.

As for Lent, I am called then to concentrated times of prayer.  Times when I speak with God and give Him ample time to speak to me.  But of course:  He who loved us first has already begun the process. He has taken the initiative, opened the conversation.  He does so, I think, by asking a question:

"I, your Lord, am inviting you to spend more time with Me," He could be saying. "Time when I can touch your heart, show you love, bless you with gifts, shower you with mercy, flood you with graces, give you strength, empower you to face life, heal you, embrace you, and prepare you to be with Me always.  All you have to do is come to Me.

Why ever would you wait?" 

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