Thomas Aquinas tells us that a Christian, as long as he is here on earth living in faith, is like a person with only the sense of touch. The other person, the "old man," can possess the obviousness (clarity) of human knowledge. He is like the one who sees and for whom not to see is often intolerable. He can acquire an adult personality, capable of governing himself and others. The little Benjamin on earth, the man of faith, must live int eh darkness of faith, accepting to walk as if groping. He only has an experience within faith: the experience of a divine "touch," of a divine "taste." It is something very elementary as far as vision or obviousness is concerned, but infinitely profound as far as loving adherence is concerned. --Fr. Marie-Dominique Philippe, O.P., in Mary, Mystery of Mercy

Blessings seem to come to me from my friend Elizabeth, whom I mentioned in the last post. When she visited me, she accidentally left this book at our house. Knowing what treasures Fr. Philippe's writings are, I greedily began to read. This passage struck me particularly. How we do want to see! I would love to see what is up ahead of me, but that is just what God wants me to leave to Him. It's all work on the path of becoming Marylike, which will make us in the image of Christ. I would also like to share this quotation from the same book:

We are constantly seeking to establish perfectly fulfilled human happiness: the perfect flourishing of our human nature in conjunction with the perfect flourishing of our divine life. We want this human flourishing to be necessary to divine flourishing and that divine flourishing perforce imply human flourishing. Very often we have such enchanting dreams. The songs of the Evil One are constantly repeating this theme, leading us to believe that, "It is surely possible, for once upon a time it did exist..." The arguments of the Devil are very forceful: "Once upon a time it existed. It is therefore possible." It is indeed possible, but it is no longer what God wants. For a dream, it suffices that it be "possible." The same holds true for seduction. In the state of original justice, there was perfect harmony between natural demands and divine demands; and each natural demand brought with it supernatural growth, each flourishing of the human heart brought forth greater love for God.

These are amazing, matter-of-fact words about our life. Isn't it the quandary we all face, forgetting why we ache? In particular, my optimism cannot extend to "the possible that God doesn't want." Speaking of simplicity and matter-of-factness, I wish you all a happy feast of St. Josemaria Escriva, who also had many simple words to give us. My friends Peter and Sarah have great devotion to this Saint and quote him regularly, and I particularly enjoyed this post distilling St. Josemaria's advice for the working day world.