|
The curious sadness
still hung in her heart like a cloud. She thought over her husband's
words, which she could not doubt, for he was a man of great learning
and she but an ignorant woman. And yet, who was it to whom she
offered food and whom she cared for at the shrine, if not the
beloved Lord? Did He sit only in the sky remote and regal, presiding
over their lives for their good, but not Himself moving among them
as their Friend? It was hard for her to understand this way of
thinking of Him, for even as she had carried things to the Lord, so
had it always been in her mind that He in His infinite grace would
carry things to her if she had great need, or with His own hand
deprive her of them if such was His will. To think differently was
somehow to offend Him to hurt Him.
Whatever Thy
will, that is also my heart's desire, she whispered as though to
a living person standing close by. If You will that I be hungry,
the pangs are sweet to me. True, her pangs of hunger were sharp,
but thinking the Lord wished her to have them, she did not mind, and
soon, dwelling on His nearness and sweetness, she forgot them
altogether, and forgot also the learned talk of her husband, which
would take Him from her and make Him a distant monarch.
|
