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Teresa would understand.

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I don’t know where faith comes from. God. Our feeble yes to grace. Then faith rushes in.

But beyond that, I don’t know how it comes to us.

I think that is because it is rooted in God’s love for us. It is a gift from Him, and His love is infinite. My finite mind can grasp in part, not in full.

Trusting God has a similar dynamic going for it. I say this because I am learning to trust Him.

I trusted.

But now I am learning to trust.

Just as I had faith for years.

And then I began to have faith.

An ever-winding road that circles higher. A St. Teresa of Avila kind of journey to and through the Interior Castle. The rooms within are each located on a winding ramp upward.

I am learning to trust.

He speaks in words that are not words. And I say yes.

He scoops me up with arms that are not arms–

and I am raised.

What was before was real.

What is now is a higher real.

The table ‘s surface has been cleared off–

and He has set a new table, still in the presence of my enemies. But Jesus, I trust in You. All of that matters (all the things that happen around me and to me), and it doesn’t matter. It is something, but it doesn’t trouble, does not disturb.

It isn’t just a Jesus-and-Me kind of trust. It is my saint, all the saints, my Mother who is perfect and pure and loves me beyond what I can put into neat little words or attach to any level of petition and she presses it to her Maternal and Immaculate Heart. It is a guardian angel I rarely sense but is there always. It is in the prayer, not my words. And yet it is a response to my words.

Jesus, I trust in You.

I did, when I thought as a child.

But I am learning to put away childish things, like trusting on a childish level. This is a pursuit of total abandonment. And I don’t know where this is going, except to the Sacred Heart of your Divine Life.

Jesus, I want the kind of trust  You want to teach me. Not knowing, until you reveal.

Not outguessing. And then you direct my feet.

Not anticipating, but being ready with my yes and a child’s smile.

Feet that skip to this new level.

This new room in the castle.

For a moment, hide-and-seek is a charade, a mirage.

He has been here the whole time.

He who was, when I barely knew what trust meant–

He who is, now looks at me with eyes that I have always loved–

He who is to come–

Jesus, I trust in You.

And I have a sudden intake of breath. A few tears.

The learning is not easy. The mechanics and methodology of trust are discarded. I never understood them anyway.

And it doesn’t matter. Trust is something anyone can learn.

Eyes on Christ.

Don’t look away.

When you see Him in Galilee. Eyes on Christ. Walking on water. Eyes on Christ. Walking toward Jerusalem. Eyes on Christ. Hanging on a Cross. Eyes on Christ.

Risen. Eyes fixed. And falling to your knees.

Jesus, there was so much I didn’t understand. So much that remains a mystery. There is a glorious life to be lived in the middle of Divine Mystery.

Jesus, I trust in You.

Amen. And Amen.

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