I know my pride has been a common theme in these past few musings, but I mean, c’mon, doesn’t everybody want to hear about me?! In all seriousness though, a lesson that is really being driven home to me lately is my littleness. As much as I have tried in the past to be humble, as many times as I’ve prayed the Litany of Humility, nothing has seemed to get rid of or even diminish that pesky pride. But I think something has finally clicked: I can’t get rid of it … on my own. And that has been the problem all along.
I have prayed for grace, I have asked the Lord to take it away, I have done penances and mortifications, and reached out in service to those around me in an attempt to be other-focused. I’ve done this, I’ve done that. But nowhere along the way did the thought even cross my mind that maybe He had other plans. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that God doesn’t want me to be humble and pride-free, but if I had never reached the point of frustration, of not knowing what more I could do, I’m not sure I would ever have realized just how much I need Him. And if I hadn’t come to this realization, I might have missed out on experiencing how incredibly merciful He is, and how He is always waiting to pour out that mercy upon me!
So that worn-out old phrase, we can do nothing on our own … yeah, that’s truer than I ever imagined it to be. Reading it and saying it is one thing, but living it, that’s a whole different story. Everything is by His grace. I’m learning that if I don’t lean on Him constantly, there is always the danger of getting caught up in my pride and thinking I don’t need to involve Him in everything, or even the more subtle danger of forgetting how much I need Him. Worse still, when I forget how much I need Him, I forget also how merciful He is and how He longs to give me so much of this mercy. Here’s another phrase that now speaks truth to my soul: …but for the grace of God, go I.
A dear friend of mine recently said something to me that has been sort of floating around in my heart and it keeps resurfacing, especially during prayer. This is how I would summarize it: Sometimes we need to be flat on our face, to hit rock bottom, before we realize (again) just how much we need Him, and remember just how merciful He is. A line from one of my favorite songs gives a preview of what happens when we get to that place, “You were there, You gave me strength, so this little one might come to know the glory of Your name… ”[1]
Because perhaps we might not remember these things, we might not fully experience His goodness, His mercy, His glory, until we get to that breaking point, that place where we just fall prostrate on our faces, at a loss for what else we could possibly do … and it is there, in our littleness, in that posture of humble surrender, with our hearts laid bare, where we can be most open to receive from His Heart, laid bare for us:
“At the center of [Jesus’] humanity is his wounded Heart.
It was torn open so that God’s love could be poured out on us
and we could have access to God. Only when our own hearts too
have been laid open by a wound will we be able to receive that outpouring of love. Then a true exchange of love, the goal of the life
of prayer, can occur. Then our prayer can become
what it is meant to be: a heart-to-Heart.”[2]
Once we’ve gotten to this place of recognition, when we’ve accepted our littleness and great need for His mercy, we must try with all our might to remain in a state of constant self-offering and surrender to the Lord, fulfilling our part in this “exchange of love,” this “heart-to-Heart.”
Today, on this solemnity of Saints Peter & Paul, we are given an inspiring example of this willing and total self-offering. We hear in the second reading,“I, Paul, am already being poured out like a libation …the Lord stood by me and gave me strength.” The song I mentioned above paints a beautiful image of this gift of self,
“Awaiting, set apart, like incense to Your Heart,
a libation I’m pouring out …”
We, too, should be pouring out everything we are, everything we have, everything we do as an offering to the Lord, trusting that He will give us all the grace we need. And as we learn to live this life of surrender, we will be allowing the love of His Sacred Heart to set us on fire and rid us of our pride and self-love:
“When devotion to the Sacred Heart is recommended, what is being recommended to us is the gift of our entire self to Jesus, soul and body, thoughts, feelings, words, actions, joys, and sorrows. Jesus came to light a fire on earth. Fire purifies, gives light, communicates, unites. Such is the blaze of divine love devotion to the Sacred Heart enkindles in our hearts. The Heart of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament feeds the flame of our love for the Lord, burning from us the dross of self.”[4]
This week let us ask the Lord to lead us ever deeper, to set our hearts on fire with love for Him; to burn from us the dross of self, that we may be like incense to His Heart. Let us call on our Blessed Mother to protect us; to guide us in acts of continual surrender; to help us love the Lord more at every moment; to increase our devotion to His Sacred Heart, especially in the Eucharist; and to remind us of how much we need Him, how much we need His mercy. And may Saints Peter and Paul intercede for us, that we may trust even more and strive to live our lives as complete offerings of gratitude for the Lord’s merciful Heart.
“My daughter, know that My Heart is mercy itself.”
Jesus to St. Faustina, Diary 1777
[1] Matt Maher, Empty & Beautiful
[2] Fr. Jacques Philippe, Time for God
[3] Fr. Richard Neilson, The Sacred Heart and the Eucharist
