How to welcome One who longs to visit us from on high, longing to dwell in our hearts, in our very flesh? If I pause and ponder too long and hesitate, stubbornly insisting that God could not possibly want to dwell in my broken heart, my too wounded, sin-scared flesh, then I may miss the opportunity that my neediness affords me. He only wants my weakness, that rough straw for his bed. The Desire at the heart of all our desiring is begging at the door of our hearts. Let us open in haste and hope and almost rash confidence. His desire for me trumps my unworthiness and makes my flesh his flesh.
Madonna after Carlo Crivelli at the entrance to the Abbey church.
