MARTYR OF LOVE

Having reached that stage of prayer, that is, of union with God, Sister Theresa Margaret was nearing the time when she was to leave the world to soar to the higher sphere of the eternal vision of God. But God wished to purify her further with one more trial, the most painful --- "the night of the spirit".

The length of the trial varies according to God's design, and while we learn that for some Saints it continued for years, for Sister Theresa Margaret it lasted only a few months, but without abating its violence or suffering. Her mind was wrapped in darkness, she felt her will dried up at the source, and she was deprived even of the memory of past favors, while all her senses were plunged in pain and agony. To purify her, God afflicted her with the light of infused contemplation.

She was, as it were, blinded and could no longer perceive the beauty of God; she felt her soul too weak, too imperfect, too human to bear this dazzling ray from the Divinity. Her misery, in contrast to that torrent of light which terrified her, was to her a torture worse than death, and it seemed to her as if hell were open and ready to receive her. She would turn her eyes imploringly to her confessor and ask: "What is to become of me? Shall I be able to save myself?"

If she sought to encourage herself with hope, confiding in the infinite mercy of God, the thought of her lack of correspondence to His gifts would throw her into further despondency and fear of being abandoned by Him. Was it because God no longer heard her that she found it well-nigh impossible to pray? Was she deluding herself with the thought that she still loved God, if in her heart all desire for perfection seemed spent, and how was she to force her will to reanimate her courage, if she no longer had any hope of rising out of this slough of despondency?

Timid and self contained, Sister Theresa Margaret repressed all outward signs of her suffering and heroically retained her usual smile; she continued to shed the radiance of happiness and to comfort all around her. When a soul undergoes this particular suffering, she can find no comfort with creatures, in fact, they rather increase her pain; they seem to become veritable instruments of torture in the hands of God.

One can understand what a daily sacrifice it must have been for her to be in charge of the Infirmary. It called forth constant acts of virtue while her poor soul was tormented with aridity and fatigue. She had to keep herself calm and serene at a time when God was already putting her patience to the severest test. She had to talk of confidence in God and of faith and love, when she seemed to be repulsed by Him and kept forever at a distance.

Only to her spiritual director did she reveal the painful state of her soul; her letters, written at this time, are most moving. The cry of this wounded heart, which weeps its impotency for further loving, requires no comment. She is, nevertheless, consumed with love. It is no less edifying to see the severity with which the Saint speaks of herself, never giving vent to what would really have been a legitimate relief --- that of sharing her pain with others.

"I find myself in complete interior abandonment so great that on no side can I see the smallest ray of light. It is torture to me even to think of applying myself to the things of God; how am I ever to proceed? Finding myself in obscurity and fearing to offend God in this state, I thought it wise to manifest my state and receive counsel thereon. I fear that in my Holy Communions, God may be disgusted with me. I do not seem to have even the spirit to ask Him to help me, so great is my coldness.

"I suffer to see myself so neglected. I make my resolutions, but I am ever the same. The old desires are now barely felt by me and if, as a result of some spiritual lesson, they seem for a moment to return, the battle I have with myself is terrible. I feel that God wishes me to be all His, but that I am getting deaf to the sound of His voice, particularly in the practice of virtue which now seems almost repugnant to me.

"I try not to fall asleep in my negligence, but seeking forgiveness of God, I tell myself that in this hour, I must be converted entirely to Him. But often I am conquered by a still greater coldness than before, giving way to such diffidence and lowness of spirit, that I fear I shall never accomplish anything I intend to do, mainly because of the war in my soul. It is a war in which I lack courage for the fight, and with this terrible despondency I fall into further omissions. I cannot explain the conflict that goes on. At times I feel so averse to any act of virtue, that even with the greatest violence to myself, I can only succeed on the merit side. At other times I only desire to conform myself to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, so I set myself to try and practice those very virtues that would make me like unto my Beloved, and I renew my resolution to suffer and keep silent, and to be as imperturbable as if I were dead. But I do not succeed very well, though I have a goad in my heart that urges me to keep faithful to my God in everything. This is so difficult for me, that I am afraid that I reveal it whether I am victorious or not, and if the latter, I still accomplish my task with coldness and without zest."

In truth, she would defy even death with the strength of her love, "fortis ut mors dilectio". Not knowing the cause of such things, her Sisters in religion would wonder at the fluctuations of color in her face or the changes of expression.

She desired to suffer in silence and to be unknown. This was her ardent desire. It is evident in her letters that she was anxious never to encroach uselessly on another's time. She asked for help and counsel from her director, but insisted that he only give it when it was convenient for him. But even in this she placed herself entirely in the hands of God and at the wise discretion of her director.

The tempest in her soul was still raging when, in 1770, she wrote: "This tempest in my soul continues and I do not know how to go on. All around me is darkness and my mind is so confused that I no longer find any spiritual relief in the things that used to console me at first. Now they merely cause me further sorrow, and my soul being so weak, more and more temptations assail me, particularly those tending to despair. My feeling of forsakenness is so great that I have nothing to say and hardly know what I am to do. I have an awful fear of offending God mortally ... I do not wish to make unworthy confessions ... I accuse myself as best as I can ... but I do not want to go into lengthy details, especially when I am leading such a life that the thought of it fills me with horror, and I tremble lest I should draw on myself the vengeance of Divine Justice".

In the midst of this terrible darkness of soul, Sister Theresa Margaret did not know herself, and was far from realizing that the more God seemed to withdraw Himself, the more her soul sought Him and rose to unity with Him.

Refined in the crucible of suffering, her love grew in purity and became more valiant. While she thought she was incapable of formulating any spiritual aspirations and thought she had lost the art of loving, she was growing in sanctity.

In one of her letters she tells us an interesting fact which she had read in the life of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque and which gave her comfort. This Saint, in great affliction at not being able to conquer herself sufficiently for the love of God, turned to Jesus Himself, and under His advice enclosed her own will in His Sacred Heart, so that her rebelliousness would be changed into entire submission. Sister Theresa Margaret also wished to act in like manner. She wished to place her heart in that Divine Wound from whence it could never more escape. But in her humility she felt she must first get the consent of her spiritual director. This reveals to us the torment of a soul who fears to be no longer dear to her Heavenly Spouse and, thinking herself only worthy of His disdain, seeks help in the voice of obedience to take refuge once more in that Heart that is His!

On February second, the Feast of the Purification, Theresa Margaret made her offering through the hands of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The terrible trial was almost at an end. Only a few days more, and Our Lord was to inundate her soul with an unexpected joy acid marvellous sweetness.

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