Hope is Assaulted by the Devil

The hermit has been praying for a young priest who has fallen in love and has taken a leave of absence. In weeks of e-mails, the "assignee" has not responded. Finally the hermit e-mailed and asked who is the real soul--and it was not like him to not respond at all, even if what the hermit wrote to him was not what he wants to read. The hermit also said that St. Veronica is being asked to hold her veil, imaging the Sacred Head of Jesus, to this man so that he can see and discern, if he is still discerning.

Thus it was with much joy that the hermit received a short e-mail in reply, finally, after many had gone ignored. Somehow, the hermit only read much hope in his words! In hope-filled ecstatic joy, the hermit told the VG there had been a reply and there was "much hope!" Then the hermit told the Bishop's secretary to please let the Bishop know that there was still "much hope" in this situation, for this priest has been a priest for eight years, and he is the Lord's anointed, but going against his destiny at this time.

Then, yesterday, the hermit re-read his message, and there was nothing in it to base hope, not at all! In fact, he wrote of wanting to stand before the Lord justified, but that he needed to do so with his personal desires met. He said that being a priest could bring much good to people, but it was not fulfilling his needs and he desires more intimacy that goes beyond what a priest is allowed.

The hermit wrote back about the agnostic friend, with a new boyfriend, both in their sixth decade of life, and of the joyful activities they are experiencing,which is good, but these parting words reacted to the hermit's incomprehensible life: To each, his own.

So the hermit shared that it is not thus, not the self-fulfillment or the personal pleasures to each his own, but rather it is "To God, His will!" And surely, to God's will, our will given. No, it is not about us or me, even though the world and the devils lurking about the world, would want this notion to take root.

Why did the hermit have such hope from the e-mail, when on the second reading, there seemed little to no hope? The hermit seemed, then, quite foolish, going around proclaiming there is still "much hope!"

Then...
During the night, there was a major attack by the devil. Four black crows were eating the lushness of some ripe grain, some wheat; and I came along and noticed them. Then they lay down, as if in a rectangular nest (laid out side by side as in a four-pack coffin) and acted as if they were dead, for they sensed I was going to disrupt their devouring the grain. I picked up a spade to do them in, and when I brought it down on them with blade edgewise to crush them--and just as it touched and I heard the start of a horrifying "crunch", they transformed into two people: a woman and a man.

They seemed practically like natives of some sort, and heathen. The woman stood on my left and held my left arm with one hand, seemingly in a light grasp. The man stood on the other side and prepared some razor wire (like a clear fishing line but razor), and he was going to tie it around my tongue. They told me what they were doing, the man mostly, but it wasn't like I heard precise words: they just told me. Then they were going to tie each of my arms to upright stakes or posts on either side, so that if I would try to speak, my tongue would be cut off, and still I would not escape.

My son had gone on before me, and I reasoned he would come back looking for me, and would find me tied like that, but not realize the razor wire was around my tongue; so I would not be able to warn him without cutting off my tongue. Then he would see that and the immense amount of blood that would flow, but more so, he would also be snared by the woman and the man--or so I thought would be the case.

I decided, just as the man was preparing to tie my tongue with the razor wire, that I could break free of the woman's grasp and escape. But when I tried, her grasp was so strong that it was like I had become stone, and could not move: totally immovable in a density of gravity that was horrifying. The woman remained calm and even had a slight smile.

Then I realized I must speak out before the man would tie my tongue (be tongue-tied!), and so I began proclaiming Jesus Christ as Lord of Lords, King of Kings and our Salvation. I repeated this over and over. I knew that I would continue proclaiming Jesus Christ even after the wire would be tied around my tongue, and would lose my tongue, and then my life, but it didn't matter. I only desired to cry out Jesus' Holy Name.

With my crying out this proclamation, the demonic attack ceased immediately. I could not sleep, though, and was surprised that the Lord would allow the devil to attack me so violently, when I am a genderless soul in nothingness, nesting within His Sacred Heart. But He allowed me to know that I had irked the devil, and that the devil wants my mouth to cease speaking.

I explained this to the man with whom I decided to share this experience, and I interpreted it for him, as well. Why not? Is it not best to confront the devil and do the oppositie of what He wants? Are we not to glorify God by bringing good of a bad, and if that bad is a demonic attack, what better good than to cut right through to the truth? So it is this truth that I shared with the young man, and for his woman, too:

The woman is your woman; the man is you. This is what I know for sure. The devil used and transformed your forms and beings in order to show displeasure with me, to try to frighten and stop me. For what? For speaking in words what the devil does not want you to read or hear? Is it to show me that the devil has deceived both of you, and wants me to be tongue-tied? Was the devil angry that I had somehow read your e-mail the first time, and had near-ecstatic hope? And then the second time I read it, I could see just how much of your self-desire and self-fulfillment, and personal desire, was written in it? And that I know deep within that this is not you at all--any more than this woman and man are not you, not really you, but some awful impersonator of you? Crows surrepticiously eating the grain and when caught, transforming into heathen demons! The four crows became two because we each have two natures: body and soul, good and evil.

Yet I hope beyond hope. And the devil does not like this hope. But I see it for what it is, and I proclaim Jesus over and over, and He will conquer whatever is deceiving your souls and minds with such self-fulfilling desires. It is worth having my tongue razored off; I will not cease crying out for Christ to be known for Who He Is--and against deception. All the more I pray that St. Veronica continue to hold the veil imaging His Sacred Head for you to have before your eyes at all times. Just see His Holy Face, and do not desire anything but His Holy Will for your souls.

Now the hermit also responded to the man's comment in his e-mail: Not everyone can be a mystic. So he says this, and to what point? Does it justify going against his destiny? Is he already turning away, sad? The hermit explained in a response that everyone can be a mystic. What is a mystic? It is someone who thinks of God all the time. Cannot everyone do and be that? Of course! Not everyone desires this, however, for it requires choosing God over self, and learning this and practicing it moment by moment over the course of a lifetime, whatever course and time that life is given.

The confessor this morning told the hermit many encouragements regarding the taint of the hermit's soul and the mercy of God in Our Lord's on-going process of purifying the soul, genderless in nothingness, nesting within the Sacred Heart so pure and spotless. The hermit desires to not be sledge in His Heart! But also, the confessor, regarding the assignee and that the hermit felt so foolish proclaiming "hope" when the priest-in-love-with-the-woman had not written hopefully, at all--that the hermit is to "hope beyond hope".

Yes, it is hoping beyond hope, hoping when the climb seems all uphill, that the soul must tredge on and upward, yet in hope when there are no signs of hope to be seen. Hope remains. Hope lives in the Sacred Heart of Jesus; it is the Heart's rich Blood which nourishes with hope.