Catholic during the Great Apostasy

Sunk in darkness,

I seek the light that never fades.

I seek You, my God. Though You are so near, so often human senses fail. The darkness will never overcome the hope that, like a spark, will always smolder, the faith that guides us, and the love I feel in my soul.

Sometimes the crosses are so heavy that I think You overestimate my strength. I know You never err, I know it is all for my good, but in those moments, I want to escape, to hide in the refuse of this world. To dance the chaff dance of salvation despite sins and failings. To be with the majority, not always in opposition. It is then that You give me a spark of hope. Sometimes it’s a message comforting the soul, sometimes a comment uplifting the spirit. Always a tiny spark that lifts my soul to You. So small, a contrast to my earlier sins. Not leading to pride, but teaching humility.

Everything moves toward the end, toward the time of suffering and the time of hope.

I have learned to live in silence; I have come to love the quiet. I am growing accustomed to the physical pain that has not left me for some time.

Yet the sadness of the soul sometimes overwhelms me. The enormity of evil surrounding me is like a heavy stone covering the tomb of life. It does not allow it to be opened to see the light of salvation. The weight of this stone reflects the weight of our sins.

My soul weeps quietly, hidden in solitude and misunderstanding. Without You, God, not a stone would remain upon a stone. It would turn into ruins of faith, a picture on the wall showing what no longer exists among people.

I often wonder if I am still fleeing to Spain?

Few people surround me, yet all clip my wings, chain me to the ground. Their words lash like a whip:

You write too harshly.

You are not a priest; whence this preachy tone?

You cannot speak like a prophet, for you were a great sinner.

You are not a mystic; your visions must be hidden.

I humbly accept these human judgments, but sometimes I want to break free from the shackles, to soar to the heavens… to taste the freedom that does not exist in lies.

Everything connected to You, our Lord Jesus Christ, has been called hate speech.

The world is stained with innocent blood, the blood of the unborn…

The world is tainted with the blood of those condemned to euthanasia…

The world is marked with the blood of persecuted Christians…

And this very world seeks to teach us love in words alone, for in deeds, their love becomes hatred.

You cannot abandon me, Refuge of sinners; You cannot leave me to the mercy of oppressors. God is Truth, and as the Mother of God, You are the Mother of Truth. Be always with me when pain increases, when memory fades.

I turn to You far too rarely!

When God opened my eyes, whom did I, an unworthy sinner, behold?

Was it not You, Exalted Queen?

Yes, as always, You are near, lifting me after a fall, allowing the lost soul to weep. Quietly, with love, You speak, showing the way:

Rise, take up your cross, and go; there is My Son. Do not fear, I will always be with you…

Arkadiusz Niewolski