Arid and dry your God is my heart

June 19

Where do I find my God? Where support this poor heart, I feel like breaking away from the breast? I search constantly, but can not find it, call the heart of the divine prisoner and is unresponsive. What then is this? My infidelity has done so for inflexible? Can I hope for mercy and that he, at last, hear my cries, or should I give up this hope? Oh God, that my stubbornness horridez is finally up.Well my, I love you on the edge of the love that you ask me, that I finally found this laborious and agonizing search. Father, naked and helpless is my spirit arid and dry for God is the heart, spirit and heart and hardly move because of Him who created them for their kindness. I have almost no faith, I am unable to rise on the wings of hope fortunate, as required pursuant to abandon God, when the height of the storm hits and the overflowing measure of my misery crushes me. I have no charity.Ah, to love my God is the result of a thorough understanding of a faith expressed in works, and some promises on which the soul plunges, is recreated and leaves, and even lies in the sweet hope. I have no love for his neighbor, because this is a consequence of it, and, missing the first, which descends to the lifeblood branches, all branches are dried. (June 19, 1918, Fr Benedict of San Marco in Lamis - Ep. I, p. 1033)