Holy Mother, pierce me through,
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Saviour crucified.
It’s a neat and tidy little verse, isn’t it? Short, but not so sweet.
Prayer is so different for me these days. It’s not dry, but it’s not blossoming either. As many know, this verse is part of a prayer to the Five Wounds of Christ that I prayed in novena fashion before telling my mother on Sunday, June 14th at 4:25pm that I was interested in religious life. I knew that I was not going to be received warmly by my own mother, hence what was the point in asking for Mercy? Instead I requested that my heart bear all the wounds of our Precious Lord’s own Heart. My heart would become His; my blood be replaced by His; words, thoughts, intentions, etc. All were to be replaced with His.
Careful. Be ever careful of what your soul says to God. Do not hinder your Soul, but be ever aware, and prepare yourself as best as you can. You ask to be put on the frontlines, you will be there. You will not be relieved from your duty until you languish and your soul faints. I have physically fainted once, and I can now also say that I know what it is to have your soul feel fatigued and faint.
Sometimes I get pulled from the front lines for a week, other times just a half hour. It is not pleasant when I have to leave the security of the camp and plunge headlong into the front lines, but I did not ask for Mercy. The moment one task is done I am handed another. Consolation is few and far between; oh the sweetness of it!
Truly, hands that are not my own grasp my heart, and hand the heart over to the Lord. She offers it to Him and He’s taken it. How torn it is, I don’t know, but I know that it is.
As a mother rocks a child to comfort and soothe, so has the Spirit rocked me.