Move, i.
On what I’ve learned since our last encounter, part i.
🔥.. o, there will be more of them! ii, iii, iv.. this one’s on Here. Merry Christmas.. Happy New Year.. Happy Feast Day.. I still enjoy St. John. :)1
For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard. - St. John in Acts of the Apostles, 4, 20
I love St. John.
As a Catholic, he came upon my radar when reading about St. Gertrude & her mystical experiences. Jesus had appointed St. John as a mentor of sorts and at one point while St. Gertrude was being ravished by the beatings of the Sacred Heart, she turned to St. John and asked him (I paraphrase) —
Beloved of my Lord, why didn’t you tell us in the Gospel of the sweet delights of Jesus’ Sacred Heart as you knew it when you leaned upon His Breast?
He answered —
Beloved of my Lord, the Gospels were written for the edification of the Church in Her Infancy. It was for these later times that Our Lord reserved the revelation of the torrents of His Divine Love for Man through His Sacred Heart.
.. for later times, when the world has grown cold.
I paraphrase again, because, my dear friend, as you should know — or will come to know about your little friend here — though I know much, I don’t present myself as a scholar when I converse with you.2
Imagine: mid-morning approaches. My husband and I have just come from our morning walk to watch the Dawn and we saunter onto your back porch where you offer coffee and shortbread. It’s Thursday of Christmas vacation & we already have our sweet ritual during this time of the Holy Season. You tell us something of how your dinner with friends went last night and I mention John & Gertrude as though they are old friends (they are) and you ask — where do read this? I casually tell you, In her writings. Likely, her Revelations. I haven’t it on hand, but if you wish, I’ll bring the book by later.
This is what we have here. Very un-Substacky.
I am for un-Substacky. In fact, I will say I wish to remain an originalist, I’ve a 3-year tenure here & some may say I have the right to say so, but I will go even further: I blog. Further still: I write. More: I think & tell.
Blog was a word I never wished to bring into this space, but I think it’s necessary to make a distinction between what the trend seems to be here on Substack, Inc. and what it is I really, really want to do.
Blog is Gen-X, of which I am a proud member. I don’t laud the term, it’s just a fact, part of an identity. When I say I blog, you see a person who wishes to share & speak among friends, not necessarily someone who aims for subs.
I’ve decided all sorts of numbers aren’t for me. Follower counts and stats, views and subscriptions and all the apparatus that accompanies them disturb me & pushes me away from my little mission — which is, namely, to be among my neighbor.. that I may love him more as our Lord does, more than I love myself. I cannot and will not relegate you to a column of numbers. So.. there.
Loving you more than I love myself does not entail slaving away at maintaining this space. Numbers push for this ideal. I’m getting lower hits, so I must post more. O, what will I say to entrap, enchant, enthrall thee? Yeah, I’m full of concupiscence, I don’t need the temptation, I’m actively working on pushing it out. Get behind me, Satan.
Loving you more than I love myself means actually spending time with my God & among those He works to put in front of me — my family, the grocery clerk, the coffee shop barista, fellow Mass-goers, the Host of Angels and Saints that surround His Holy Altar, God Himself. Loving you more than I love myself means being the soul God intends for me to be — for this, I must be in His Presence & give Him Time & due Right to shape & mold & transform me into an alter Christus.. I need to give Him time to do this.. not repeated checking in of unholy numbers. My desires must be tamed if they become disordered. My desire to come here must be placed it its proper order, I’ve always known this, but today, I blog is properly defined: I’m just a girl talking to her friends. :)
Now, I know I speak to the choir, but in bloggy tradition, what I write, I’m telling myself — I am synthesizing some vague sense of what’s going on in me & put it into words, for your edification & mine. What a nice pair of little co-creators we are, thank you for letting me process with you.
May God forever bless our humanity, my friend, especially as we try to become more and more like Him.
❤️
in Love,
your veronica
—
In Spiritu Tuo, ad gloriam Patris. 12.28.2023, Holy Innocents, a day after St. John.
Edit: Per the norm, my friend, I’ve sat in wait for the right to come.. I did not wait in the shadows this time. I was entirely off, letting my soul rest. Now I know this is so much needed in the life of anyone, everyone, especially those who wish to express things of love, for love, in Love. Of course, I knew this, we knew this, there is always so much we know but can’t quite clearly defined until.. well, we have to wait. watchful waiting, my friend, that is what this is. For a moment, I thought I’d bomb it all, just throw in a nuke and let it melt & disappear, but no.. I’ve things to say, another way to love mankind, this is just how I am. St. John told me so last night. O, how I love him, such a great friend he is. May be be your friend, too — o, I wish this, Lord!!
You will come to know me — or have already come to know me — as I continue to know God as I watch His work in my soul. I’m here, God integrated somehow. God is, between us two. May He always be revealed.