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“Yet even now,” the Lord says, “return to Me with all your heart – with fasting, weeping, and mourning. Tear your hearts, not just your garments!” (Joel 2:12 NET)
To "break down the barriers separating my heart from God"-- to truly rend my heart-- I must first identify those barriers, those places so hardened and stiff they MUST be rent asunder lest I perish. It's tragically easy to find those spots-- whenever I feel resistance to His presence & input in a situation, whenever I feel unwilling or unable to pray, whenever I cannot hear His Voice or even remember what it sounds like-- all these frightening instances are barriers between my heart and His. They need to be removed-- destroyed completely, reduced to dust & ashes, beyond rebuilding-- but I have no strength to do that! All I can do is beg for help; all I can do is seek Him out, with feeble fervor if I must, but seek Him I must. When I cannot "pray," I can still cry without words. When I cannot hear, I can still read Scripture. And when I feel that awful resistance, that is my greatest opportunity-- I can then show God EXACTLY where that obstacle is, and with hopeful trust, plead Him to remove it by His merciful grace. Then I let Him work. I stand and watch Him.
Over and over, moment to moment, breath by breath, I must constantly refocus on God. I must let Him into my broken heart, so He can remake it in His liking. The demolition is a rebirth.
I fast from the world to feed upon Him. I weep for my sins to be grateful for His mercy. I mourn for Him Who died for me, because of me, so that I may feel the joy of the salvation His Blood bought for me. When I let Him remove the chains shackling my soul to the secular world, I become free to embrace Him. Even if my wrists are bloodied and bruised, His pains to free me were greater, and I can take comfort in knowing that no amount of damage I may bear will ever deter Him from pulling me close. He is the Divine Physician; when He sees my wounds, He will kiss them to healing. Thus I must admit I have them, uncover them, offer them up to the divine scalpel and sutures if need be. Yes, the process is painful, but it is essential for life. Pain does not mean death; it is only an alert that something needs to be rectified... and as I progress in penance, I shall find that what was once seen as suffering to the flesh is now sweet to my soul.
The call to penance is not a call to separation. In the very midst of our mortification, we are drawing closer to Christ. We are returning to the One Who loves us. We are coming home.
