Dialogue with the Beloved One

‘You have to carry me, little donkey.’

‘Yes, Lord. But it is still absurd. Donkey is the right word – a loudmouthed, braying, unchaste, stupid beast that lives on thistles. Just now I’m in my stable. But when we get on the road, what then? They can’t see You. They can only see me. I am bound to do everything stupidly.’

‘Little donkey, I will tell you what to do. And if I don’t your mistakes will be necessary humiliations. Otherwise you might forget who your Rider is.’

‘If the worst comes to the worst, Lord, and I am a persistent cause of scandal to others, I could always make some contact with the Bishops. You may not be interested in my sins, but they would be. You speak in my heart, but they are You in the Church because You decided it should be so. If they tell me to get back into my stable, I would be bound to obey them.’

‘If – if! You live by ‘ifs’ and it has no meaning. All you can do is live inside whatever now I give you. If you accept that fully, you can be at peace. You belong to Me, not to yourself.’

‘Yes, Lord.’

‘The time will come, little donkey, when they will sell your hide to make shoes with. That will be quite enough tribulation for you. Do you love Me, little donkey?’

‘Yes, Lord. You know that is what I desire at the bottom of my heart.’

‘Then what have you got to worry about?’

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‘Self-delusion, Lord. The effect of my own past sins. The fear of committing more.’

‘I can look after those things. All you have to do is put one foot in front of the other. That is all you are capable of doing.’

‘Yes, Lord.’

‘I have hedged you in and brought you here where you can converse with me at leisure. This is My desert – what you call “the gap” – do you like it?’

‘In itself, I loathe it, Lord, more than any other situation. But I am glad to be here because I know I am near to You.’

‘These thrills in the scalp and tremors in the heart are unimportant. You can only be happy now by dying along with Me.’

‘Yes, Lord.’

‘What do your sins matter? I made you. You made your sins – your little burnt patch in My harvest field, your nothing. Is what I made or what you made the more important?’

‘What You made, Lord.’

‘Then count yourself more valuable than your sins. To think otherwise is to put your creation above Mine. All that I have made I love and find good. And when the justice of My mercy begins, and I “forget” you – then even that little burnt patch will be covered over.’

‘Yes, Lord. I both desire and fear what You speak of.’

‘I will give you the capacity to deal with each successive Now.’

‘Thank You, Lord.’

‘You can go now, little donkey. I prefer you to be the donkey that you are – not any other creature.’

‘Yes, Lord.’

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