The Prayer...
I have fallen Lord, once more, I can’t
go on. I’ll never succeed. I am ashamed. I don’t dare look at You. And
yet I struggled, Lord, for I knew you were right near me, bending over
me, watching.
But temptation blew like a hurricane, and instead of looking at You, I
turned my head away. I stepped aside while you stood, silent and
sorrowful, like the spurned fiancée who sees his loved one carried away
by the enemy. When the wind died down as suddenly as it had arisen, when the
lightening ceased after proudly streaking the darkness, all of a sudden I
found myself alone, ashamed, disgusted, with my sin in my hands… this
sin that I selected the way a customer makes his purchase, this sin that
I have paid for and cannot return, for the storekeeper is no longer
there. This tasteless sins, this odorless sin, this sin that sickens me,
that I have wanted but want no more, that I have imagined, sought,
played with, fondled for a long time; that I have finally embraced while
turning coldly away from you, my arms outstretched, my eyes and heart
irresistibly drown; this sin that I have grasped and consumed with
gluttony.
It’s mine now, but it possesses me as the spider web holds captive
the gnat. It is mine. It sticks to me, it flows in my veins, it fills my
heart. It has slipped in everywhere, as darkness slips into the forest
at dusk and fills all the patches of light. I can’t get rid of it. I run
from it the way one tries to lose a stray dog, but it catches up with
me and bounds joyfully against my legs.
Everyone must notice it. I’m so ashamed that I feel like crawling to
avoid being seen. I’m ashamed of being seen by my friends. I’m ashamed
of being seen by You, Lord, for You loved me, and I forgot You. I forgot
You because I was thinking of myself and one can’t think of several
persons at once. One must choose, and I chose… And Your voice and Your look, and Your love hurt me, they weigh me down more than my sin.
Lord, don’t look at me like that. I am naked. I am dirty. I am down,
shattered, with no strength left. I dare make no more promises. I can
only lie bowed before You.
And the Father’s Response…
Come, child, look up. Isn’t it mainly
your vanity that is wounded? Do you think there is a limit to My love?
Do you think that for a moment I stopped loving You? But you still rely
on yourself. You must rely only on Me. Ask my pardon and get up quickly.
It isn’t falling in the mud that is the worst… but staying there.
0 comments:
Post a Comment