Ave Maria Meditations
(In the midst of) Suffering and renunciation through the burdensomeness, discomforts, and exhaustion of the body, through the darkness or at least the dimness of mind, and through the interior suffering of spiritual isolation and aridity. (I seek a) Pure and solid faith. To ask, as I have been advised, for the grace of “simplicity in suffering.”
Material concerns, sometimes too heavy for my already burdened body, time wasted, relationships that hold no attraction for me, the effort to be pleasant and to smile when all of me longs for recollection and for only close friends – all this constitutes my hidden cross, the best cross, which does not elicit sympathy or admiration as illness or misfortune does.
Well, I will carry it “joyfully” until God changes my obligations. Yes, joyfully in spite of dryness, weariness, the costliness of these efforts, gently united to the heart of Jesus, aided by Mary, my Mother, sticking to my usual rule of devotions, meditation, and so on, always strict with myself, yet more gracious to everyone, attentive to remain open, trusting, and abandoned, without narrowness, self-centeredness, or subtlety.
To accept equally the impossibility of an active life through good deeds, relationships, and regular work, and the impossibility of a wholly contemplative life that my family obligations, the preferences of those around me, and my circumstances prevent. To do all I can for others, to take refuge often in my “inner cell” to pray, to adore, and to unite myself to my beloved God. To make of everything – prayer, suffering, self-denial, and action – an interior offering for others and for God’s glory, as well as for those I love.
O my God, “give me an adoring soul, an atoning soul, an apostle’s soul,” and do with me what you want according to my pact with you.
Elisabeth Leseur
(after her death from cancer, and having offered her sufferings for him, her athiest husband became a priest)
