Jesus, I Trust in You

The rays of His Light have broken through.  Pierced aridity, shattered a hardening heart, put darkness to flight... and all with a single aspiration uttered again and again.  

"Jesus, I trust in You." 

It is, perhaps, my favorite aspiration; its every word is filled with power.  I said I would let you know how my distracted attempts at prayer were going, and I'm happy to report that I have, in some ways, been praying unaware.  This morning I realized how automatically my heart turns to Our Lord in the midst of everyday life, often without a conscious decision on my part.  I don't think it's a coincidence that this awareness broke through on Mercy Sunday.

I used to have a wristwatch with an hourly alarm.  Each time it chimed, I'd pray inwardly: "Jesus, I trust in You."  No matter where I was or what I was doing, this little beep served as a monastery bell.  It was good training.

Is there value in simple, quick prayer that's so "automatic?"  I would say that indeed there is.  I have formed the habit of aspiration(s) by an act of my will, and Jesus (in His mercy) meets me much more than half way.  

Like someone groping along in the darkness of a cavern, I move one step at a time, my way lit by the beams of prayer, my trust placed in the knowledge that there is Light.  I may not always be able to see it, but I believe in the Light.  Once in awhile, the Light breaks through with majestic power, as happened when Jesus appeared to St. Faustina and revealed the rays of Blood and Water flowing from His Heart.

Jesus shatters darkness, deception, sin.  Jesus breaks through walls of unforgiveness, woundedness, distraction, fear.

Jesus is Mercy.  Jesus is Love.

Jesus, I trust in You.

"The Lord gave his blessing, and the rays extended over the whole world....  I heard a Voice: 'This Feast emerged from the very depths of My Mercy, and it is confirmed in the vast depths of My tender mercies.  Every soul believing and trusting in My Mercy will obtain it.'"  (St. Faustina) 

"The Light shines on in darkness, a darkness that did not overcome it."  (John 1:5) 

Wandering. Restless. Trusting.

Sometimes I feel as if my prayer is going nowhere.  Or that I, myself, am going nowhere.  It's not that I've moved beyond the boundaries of God's will.  It's more that I feel my prayer is going nowhere within those boundaries. It seems as if I'm stuck in one spot, spinning my spiritual wheels, having lost the sense of following God, my mind continually bombarded with distractions, distractions,  distractions....

At such times (and I am presently in one), I sit to pray and feel I am "doing" nothing.  I go to Mass and struggle not to fidget through the readings.  My mouth prays words from a psalm while my mind is on a thousand things.   My emotions are flat, worried, disoriented, restless, sad.  

Today I found help .. and a definite sense of companionship ... from Brother Lawrence.   

"You aren't the only one to be distracted from the presence of God," he writes in his eighth letter.  "I understand completely.  Our minds are so flighty.  But remember that our God-given will governs all of our strength.... 

"I think the remedy for the problem is to confess our faults to God and humble ourselves before Him.  It isn't necessary to be too verbose in prayer, because lengthy prayers encourage wandering thoughts.  Simply present yourself to God as if you were a poor man knocking on the door of a rich man, and fix your attention on His presence. 

"If your mind wanders at times, don't be upset, because being upset will only distract you more.  Allow your will to recall your attention gently to God.  Such perseverance will please Him. (Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God)

"Allow your WILL to recall your attention to God."  By an act of my will, this day I decide to trust God to recall my attention.  My mind may (will) wander.  Any "sense" of following God may not be present.  But today I renew my decision.  I ask for grace to make use of the many aspirations I've found helpful in the past, and I go forward to practice God's presence.  I shall trust that He IS leading.

I'll let you know how it goes.  

"And know that I am with You always..."  (Matthew 28:20)

Zapped, Gratefully

Some years ago, I had occasion to talk with friends about how we discerned boundaries enclosing us in the will of God.  I thought of invisible fencing, where the "fence" is actually a kind of current.  One does not see such boundaries, not with the eyes.  Such "fencing" can only be detected if we make a move to cross it. 

I feel the zap of the invisible fence when I start to head out of God's will.  Inside me there is a "zap," a pricking of conscience, an uneasiness that tells me: "No.. head back.  Stop."

Invisible fencing is not fatal.  It is possible to endure the discomfort and cross over the "fence."  Sometimes I do this.  I move out of what I know is God's will in spite of the warnings.  Paying no heed to pricks of conscience telling me to "stop, don't say that; don't snap at this person; don't give in to anger," I go right ahead.  And the jolt gets worse.  Then I find myself outside the "enclosure," stuck, stranded, feeling sour, aware of having moved away from God.

I am thankful for the zaps, every one of them.  They help me find the boundaries; they hedge me in and keep me safe.  My fencing is the will of God as revealed in Scripture and Church teaching, the word of God is my rule of life.  I must become so thoroughly acquainted with the Truth that I will feel "zapped" when I move away from it. I cannot find my boundaries if I don't know God's word... (adapted from book The Cloistered Heart)

"Conscience is a judgement of reason whereby the human person recognizes the moral quality of a concrete act that he is going to perform, is in the process of performing, or has already completed." (Catechism of the Catholic Church #1778) 

"In the formation of conscience the Word of God is the light for our path; we must assimilate it in faith and prayer and put it into practice.  We must also examine our conscience before the Lord's Cross.  We are assisted by the gifts of the Holy Spirit, aided by the witness or advice of others and guided by the authoritative teaching of the Church."  (Catechism of the Catholic Church # 1785)

(Laurits Andersen painting 1903.  US public domain) 

Text not in quotes © 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org   

Your Cloister, the City Streets...

"Your convent will be the house of the sick; 
your cell, a hired room;
your chapel, the parish church; 
your cloister, the city streets...
your enclosure, obedience;
your grating, the fear of God; 
your veil, holy modesty."  
                                      (St. Vincent de Paul)





                                                                                                                                                  public domain photo

We give You Thanks, O God

"We give you thanks, O God, we give thanks, and we bless your Name; we declare your wondrous deeds."  (Psalm 75:2)

A truly

 Blessed Easter 

to you 

and yours

                                                                                                                                                                                      Painting by Carl Senff