It is a dangerous thing, falling in love with God.
I tried it once, long ago, and was less good at it than Mary.
Oh it was fine for a while, first flush, and all that. For several years, it felt easy. Joyous.
And then, the day came when that changed. I remember it well: sitting in a convent cell, still claiming I wanted God to be all in all. And suddenly, God said, ‘really? are you sure? are you ready to give up everything?’
And I, as if wakened from a dream, said suddenly ‘no’, and fled.
For years I tried to get back there, to that moment of choosing, to undo it. Back to the cell, back to the book I’d been reading, back to the prayers and the emotions and the circumstances that had lead me to that terrible choosing. But God’s ways are not our ways, and we do not get to return.
But neither does God leave us, however it may seem. The choice is still there, and God will ask us again. Over and over, till we learn not run.
Then, silent as snowfall, God returns: light in the darkness, hope of a world reborn.
O come quickly, come, Lord, come.