To stand in the center of one’s own nothingness in solitude before God is like attempting to hold one’s hand over a flame: it is nearly impossible to remain there for more than a few seconds without being overwhelmed by the pain and then withdrawing back to safety, where things are more comfortable. But go there we must. We have to lose ourselves in the furnace of this nothingness – and die. Trusting, of course, that we will be born again, and continually reborn, in the Spirit. 


True Romantics

The saints are the greatest romantics of all history: They take the greatest risks in the name of Love. They live and die only for Love. So too is it with their longing: It can’t be contained or encompassed, only deepened into ever widening vistas.

A Terrible Love

Lord, your Love is a terrible one. You ask me to give up those things to which I cling for life: my time, my energy; my precious melancholy; the kind of person I should like to be and appear before others. In short, you ask me strip myself of myself. Your awful Love demands it…