“Adonai, my Lord and Father, I am troubled; a flock of crows darkened my skies; my soul is a desolate beach. I need to breathe with your breath, and may the shadow of your face cross my face. You, who are tender with the fireflies and the cyclamen, lay your consoling hand upon the troubled soul of your Son.
I am sailing turbulent seas; I have fought man to man with the storms, and I am wounded. Father, let your music play the tune of tenderness that you know, and my soul will be appeased. Repeat to me those ancient words and my spirit will be consoled; and my face will be your face before men; and the poor will gather abundantly at harvest time; and your kingdom of love and joy will go forth throughout the world like a ship with a rapid clip.”
Jesus spent several hours in that position, submerged in the consoling waters of the Father. He got up slowly. He resembled a pomegranate in bloom. The full moon was still visible against the blue heavens. Peace had ascended the tree of Jesus, reaching its highest branches and had descended to the deepest roots. He was prepared to fight any battle.
From the book “The Poor one of Nazareth” by Fr. Ignacio Larrañaga.