O Lord God of Hosts, Who hast said in Thy Gospel: "I am not come to bring peace but a sword," arm me for the combat. I burn to do battle for Thy Glory, but I pray Thee to enliven my courage...Then with holy David I shall be able to explain: "Thou alone art my shield; it is Thou, O Lord, Who teachest my hands to fight."
O my Beloved! I know the warfare in which I am to engage; it is not on the open field I shall fight... I am a prisoner held captive by Thy Love; of my own free will I have riveted the fetters which bind me to Thee, and cut me off forever from the world. My sword is Love! With it--like Joan of Arc- "I will drive the strangers from the land, and I will have Thee proclaimed King"-over the Kingdom of Souls.
Of a truth Thou hast no need of so weak an instrument as I, but Joan, Thy chaste and valiant Spouse, has said: "We must do battle before God gives the victory." O my Jesus! I will do battle, then, for Thy love, until the evening of my life. As Thou didst not will to enjoy rest upon earth, I wish to follow Thine example; and then this promise which came from Thy Sacred Lips will be fulfilled in me: "If any man minister to Me, let him follow Me, and where I am there also shall My servant be, and...him will My Father honor."
To be with Thee, to be in Thee, that is my one desire; this promise of fulfillment which Thou dost give helps me to bear with my exile as I await the joyous Eternal Day when I shall see Thee face to face.
-St. Thérèse , inspired by the sight of a statue of Joan of Arc
A soul that is all burning with love cannot remain inactive; necessarily, like St. Mary Magdalene, it will cling to Jesus' feet, it will listen to his sweet, burning words. -Story of a Soul, ch 11
He wills that I should love Him because He has forgiven me, not much, but everything. Without waiting for me to love Him much, like St. Mary Magdalene, He has made me to know how He had loved me with a preventing and ineffable love, in order that I may now love Him even unto folly!
-Story of a Soul, ch 12
Truly, I am far from being a saint. I ought not to rejoice at the aridity of my soul, but attribute it to the scantiness of my fervor and fidelity. I ought to grieve because I fall asleep very often during my prayer and my thanksgiving. Well, I do not grieve! I reflect that little children when they sleep are as pleasing to their parents as when they are awake; that in order to perform operations, doctors put their patients to sleep; in fine, that the Lord knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are but dust. -Story of a Soul, ch 8
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