"Musonius," said he, "wishing to rouse a man who was depressed and weary of life, touched him and asked, 'What are you waiting for, why stand you idly gazing? Until God in person shall come and stand by you and utter human speech? Cut off the dead part of your soul and you will recognize the presence of God.'”
“Such," he said, "were the words of Musonius."
I suffer from the Black Dog. Each and every day that I wake up, I have an immediate feeling that I would prefer to die than go on living. I know what it means to lose heart.
I then take a moment to find my bearings, to remember that each and every thing, including my paltry self, is touched by God.
There are many, many like me, and it does us no good to be told to “suck it up”. It would be more helpful to hear that we have worth, and that grace is real, and that you might offer a loving hand.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God. . .
And so I am now fired up, ready to think that I must do nothing at all, that happiness will somehow come to me on a silver platter. The Lord will provide!
No. Providence most certainly provides, but I must first make myself amenable. I must do my own work, in order for the Divine to do its work.
That waking moment is a moment of putting on the armor. It is a moment of sharpening the blade. I know that I will have to fight for my dignity today.
And I am my only enemy.
The armor protects me from my own arrogance. The sword cuts away at my own resentments.
I will only find God, and thereby find myself, when I choose to excise what is useless to me.
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