I have found you in so many places, Lord!

I have felt you throbbing

in the eloquent stillness of a little Alpine church,

in the shadow of the tabernacle of an empty cathedral,

in the breathing as one soul

of a crowd that loves you

and that fills the arches of your church

with songs and love.

I have found you in joy.

I have spoken to you beyond the starry firmament,

when in the evening, in silence,

I was returning home from work.

I seek you, and often I find you.

But where I always find you

is in suffering.

A suffering, any sort of suffering,

is like the sound of a bell

that summons God’s bride to prayer.

When the shadow of the cross appears,

the soul recollects itself in the tabernacle of its heart

and forgetting the tinkling of the bell,

it “sees” you and speaks to you.

It is you who come to visit me.

It is I who answer you:

“Here I am, Lord, I desire you, I have desired you.”

And in this meeting, my soul does not feel its suffering,

but is, as if, inebriated with your love:

suffused with you, imbued with you:

I in you and you in me,

that we may be one.

And then I reopen my eyes to life,

to the life less real,

divinely battle-hardened to wage your war.

Chiara Lubich

Essential Writings, New City Press, Hyde Park, NY 2007, pp. 91-92.