Saturday of the Eleventh week in Ordinary Time
"will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?"
"If God so clothes the grass of the field... will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?"
Today I take up my pen in the name of God, so that my words, imprinting themselves on the white paper, may give service in perpetual praise of God, the blessed author of my life, my soul, my heart. I would like the whole Universe, with all the planets, stars, and the countless sidereal systems, to be a vast smooth surface on which could be written the name of God. I would like my voice to be stronger than a thousand thunders, more powerful than the surge of the sea, more fearful than the eruption of volcanoes, only to say the name of God. I would like my heart to be as great as Heaven, pure as that of the angels, guileless as that of the dove (Mt 10,16), so that it could possess God. But as none of these grandiose dreams can be realized, satisfy yourself, Brother Rafael, with little, and you who are nothing, that very nothing must suffice...
Why keep silent about it? Why hide it? Why not cry out to the whole world, and proclaim to the four winds the wonders of God? Why not say to everyone what they would like to hear: “You see what I am? You see what I was? You see my wretchedness dragged through the mire? No matter – marvel at it – in spite of everything, I have God. God is my friend!” God loves me so deeply that if the whole world understood this everyone would go mad and shout in sheer amazement. Still more, all that is but a little. God loves me so much that the angels themselves don't understand it! (cf. 1Pt 1,12) How great is the mercy of God! To love me, to be my friend, my brother, my father, my master. To be God! And I to be what I am!