That we may know

 At that same hour Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. (Luke 10:21)

 Flood my soul with knowledge of you, heavenly Father. As you filled my brother, Jesus, with your presence, fill me to overflowing that I may know and serve you with fullness of heart in freedom and joy.

This is your will. I see it in Jesus’ joy as I study his face looking to heaven, thanking you that those he chose, so slow and plodding, should know the mystery for which every human heart longs.

We long to know … you. We long to feel you not as a separate entity, someone or something apart from ourselves, but within, to feel you one with our deepest heart, communing in a great love that fills our hearts and bursts from our lips in the only words that will do, Thank you! Thank you. Thank you.”

Thank you for exquisite moments of knowing sweet oneness with you, your heart wrapped around my own, holy union, giving rest and peace, stilling all desire for anything more.

What more can there be? This is the ultimate, the end fulfillment of every human soul and of your gracious will … that we should know and enjoy the wonder you are, lost in thanks to you who are the Love that moves the moon and the stars … and this heart.

Moments of blessed communion fade. Our hearts cool. What once was intimate grows distant. Such is our human lot and weakness. We are as slow and plodding as those Jesus first chose to know what he knew.

But even this blesses, moving us to pray again, “Flood my soul. Fill my heart. Wrap your love around me that I may know … you.”

This is your will and our greatest need.

Pr. David L. Miller

Speak the word

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, appealing to him and saying, "Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, in terrible distress." And he said to him, "I will come and cure him." The centurion answered, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed.” (Matthew 8:5-8)

He knew, this Centurion. He recognized the desire at the heart of Jesus. As much as he understood Jesus’ power to heal, he trusted more this loving desire to make the broken whole, to free the paralyzed from distress.

I am not worthy of you, he says, but I know you will not hold this against me or refuse the one I love so much that I am humbly here asking for what you alone can give.

You do not look upon our worthiness, O Lord, but on the need of our hearts. You see our paralysis, the hurts and longings that imprison our hearts. It is for our freedom that you come to us, your heart open, eager to liberate us from everything that drains the energies of joy and hope.

We are not worthy of you, and we do not know how to receive you except by humbly asking you to speak the word.

Speak the word that frees our hearts from the grip of our fears.

Speak the word that heals wounds we have carried for so long that we despair of healing.

Speak the word that tells us you cherish us despite our worst selves.

Speak the word that lifts our hearts from gray haunts of sadness into the golden light of morning.

Speak the word of everlasting love that fills us as a glass overflowing until we know we are yours and always will be.

Speak the Love that fills your heart that ours may receive the healing you alone can give.

Pr. David L. Miller