(Interior Castle, book VI: chapter 10-11)
"I said, I shall not see the LORD in
the land of the living; I shall look upon
man no more among the inhabitants of the
world. My dwelling is plucked up and removed
from me like a shepherd's tent; like a weaver
I have rolled up my life; he cuts me off
from the loom; from day to night thou dost
bring me to an end; I cry for help until
morning; like a lion he breaks all my bones;
from day to night thou dost bring me to an
end. Like a swallow or a crane I clamor,
I moan like a dove. My eyes are weary with
looking upward. O Lord, I am oppressed; be
thou my security! But what can I say? For
he has spoken to me, and he himself has done
it. All my sleep has fled because of the
bitterness of my soul…The LORD will save
me, and we will sing to stringed instruments
all the days of our life, at the house of
the LORD." (1)
Suspended by a sudden pierce:
A bayonet stabbing deep in
Her soul -- the pain's mortally fierce;
It drains life from her paling skin.
Earth is reduced to shadows dim,
And heaven lies beyond her reach;
Her soul is stranded between them --
A broken spirit held in breach.
She yearns for God amidst the flames;
Like Purgatory's final phase.
Though purifying burns and maims,
Her faith's unshaken -- God WILL raise!
This long moment soon comes to past;
She crosses through the gate at last!
When this deepest of purifications
to us in this life; may we be joined
Beloved in His passion as He is pierced
(1) Isaiah 38:11-14,20
(c) Paul Buis, 2002