In that awful period when I couldn’t find answers to my questions and God seemed not to exist, in a flood of anguish I wrote the following
Loss of faith
What is this lethargy,
this tomb-cold, sad complacency
that binds me to the physical.
That allows no spiritual flight or insight—
no vision of a world that I had glimpsed and felt—
Divine world of mystery and truth.
Am I dead to thus exist
abandoned by the fire that once
would blaze my heart to heaven’s light?
Then bury me!
For this is not to live.
And I am not myself.
I have no soul, no God, no peace…
Hand—hits stone and tingles pain—
to soon disintegrate in death…1967
It’s not the end of the story, dear one. But I used to pray
"Power of Goodness and Love, if Your exist, please find Yourself to me. I can’t find You.
Love Yourself in me. I can’t love You."
And I kind of clung to a modification of St Therese’s prayer that she took from St John of the Cross
“That love may be repaid by love alone, Love of God be my love.
Let Your thoughts be my thoughts
Your ways my ways.”
Love, it didn’t give me satisfaction. I just stuck with it, but with a determination not to ‘kid myself’ with the youthful determination not to succumb to any self-deception. I used to kneel down in the dark at bed-time and pray that to a God I hoped was there.
I used to stretch my being out in the darkness as if groping for some touch of God.
When it did come it was totally unexpected. When I rose that morning I had no idea I would have gone to Confession and returned to the Church with faith.
But, it doesn’t always happen thus.
Don’t give up, keep reaching for God as I did. Trishie