Crying is actually a very difficult thing for me to achieve, and so it is rarely done. Nevertheless, I was reading these ancient words of St. Augustine and they spoke to my soul so clearly-- the cry of his heart was also the cry of my own. I broke down and wept beautiful, holy, torrential tears! Who is God to me? Who am I to Him, that he should demand my love, that He should care if I know Him or not? Who am I that He should be mindful of me? Love is the hardest thing for me to accept-- and often it is only through the loving correction of my Husband that I am able to feel it towards myself at all-- and fully allow myself to receive it. Giving love to other is of no consequence. I love openly and freely, but in the depths of my heart, I cry. For what cause? Because I believe myself so unworthy of love. Yet it is God Himself who is Love. He has created me for Himself, and my heart will always be restless until it finds rest in Him.
O Beauty, ever ancient, ever new... Restore my heart in You. Rebuild it to receive You, my God, who art good and deserving of all my love! Work through my life, that You might increase and I decrease, and that through Your life in me, souls might come to experience Your love, as well. I have no greater desire in life than to truly know You, love You, and serve You in this life that I might live happily with You forever in the next. May all whom my life touches be granted the grace to do the same.