I’ve been sitting with this truth for a while, and I’ve realized how much it rings true in my own life.
Sometimes I’m His faithful apostle.
And seeing the Church in turmoil hurts my heart.
The Bride of Christ is in agony.
Wouldn’t any man work tirelessly to relieve the suffering of His Beloved?
I want to help, desperately.
I want to tell the world about how coming to tradition has saved my spiritual life & strengthened my faith.
But I can’t make someone believe something that their heart is closed off to.
So I pray & partake in the Sacrifice of the Mass & receive His Body into my own & focus my efforts on increasing my devotion, growing in modesty, veiling my head in the presence of the King, and falling in love with the man He has given me to bring to Heaven.
Meanwhile I cry that people I know leave His side, or never desired to be His in the first place.
Jesus knows this.
Sometimes I’m Judas.
I shout my faith from the rooftops on this little page, but do I defend Him when the time comes in real life?
Do I sit & watch & listen & allow others to bruise His name, because I’m afraid to stand up and be “that girl?”
Sometimes.
It’s easy to preach to the choir.
It’s harder to convert the atheist, or even the fallen-away Christian.
But Jesus does not call us to live a life of ease & luxury.
He calls us to do the harder thing.
He calls us to Higher.
He calls us to Himself.
The narrow path is not for the lukewarm.
Faith that moves mountains must be born of heroic virtue.
The Shepherd leads me to the Gate of His Heart… do I dare to knock?
If I do… I will be answered.
Will I like what I hear?
Will He invite me into His eternal glory?
If I don’t… I will have chosen to turn my back on the Almighty Lover.
And Satan leaps in glee.
Lord, rescue me from my own insecurities.
Save me from mediocrity.
Wash the stain of sin from my soul & make me clean & white as snow.
Build my courage.
Craft my mind.
Increase my charity.
Fill me with grace & mercy & virtue.
Hold me to Your Breast.
And please, never let me go.
