A Life of Love

Today is the feast of St. Valentine who was not a naked baby with wings and a harp.  He was actually a martyr, beheaded for devoting his life to living his faith without fear, which, if you ask me, is far more romantic than anything Hallmark has to offer.

To be so moved with love for God that you give your entire life to serving Him, and in doing so, dying for Him--it's the truest kind of love.

These days we are not likely to be martyred for living what we believe.  Scorned and scoffed at, sure, but we go on living.  Yet love is risk.  When we take up our crosses, we risk our comfort.  We risk having to go out of our way to follow Jesus and give others what they need.

It's a scary thought when the American lifestyle is so "me" oriented, so about rewarding ourselves for our work:  "I" want someone to buy me flowers.  "I" just want to go home after a long day at work and pamper myself.  "I" want new music so I'll buy myself a new CD--after all, I've earned it.

But have I?

Day to day, do I really give of myself out of love for God?  No, not usually.  I usually do the minimum.  It's like my cross is sitting in the corner of my heart and occasionally I venerate it, but I rarely pick it up and carry it.  Too much risk.  What if God wants me to be a public speaker?  What if he wants me to take care of sick people?  I'm not ready for that.  I need to mentally prepare myself. . .

Preparation becomes procrastination and I sit still for weeks, not moving forward, afraid to take that step.  It's because I've forgotten that God does not give us more than we can handle.  I've forgotten that vital fact of life--I am loved.  Of course I know that my family and friends and boyfriend love me, and their love is invaluable.

But I tend to forget that I--that all of us--are "loved to a supreme, unimaginable degree, unto silent, gratuitous, cruel death, to the point of total immolation by Him whom we do not even know, or if we have known Him, whom we have denied and offended. . ." (Pope Paul VI)

St. Therese of Lisieux understood this love deeply:

If the Church was a body composed of different members, it couldn't lack the noblest of all; it must have a Heart, and a Heart BURNING WITH LOVE. And I realized that this love alone was the true motive force which enabled the other members of the Church to act; if it ceased to function, the Apostles would forget to preach the gospel, the Martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. LOVE, IN FACT, IS THE VOCATION WHICH INCLUDES ALL OTHERS; IT'S A UNIVERSE OF ITS OWN, COMPRISING ALL TIME AND SPACE — IT'S ETERNAL! 

Therese lived her life accordingly.  She humbled herself to be a nun, a lowly, and forgotten sister who volunteered for the most unpleasant tasks as a way to offer up little sacrifices out of love.  She lived in humble confidence and obedience, accepting all that came her way as a gift from God.

In order to do this, she made the Act of Oblation every day (click on the link for the full prayer, below is an excerpt): 

 I OFFER MYSELF AS A VICTIM OF HOLOCAUST TO YOUR MERCIFUL LOVE, asking You to consume me incessantly, allowing the waves of infinite tenderness shut up within You to overflow into my soul, and that thus I may become a martyr of Your Love, O my God!

That's love.  Therese did not die a martyr's death in the common fashion, but she became a martyr, dying to herself every minute of every day to be more open to the waves of God's Merciful Love.

I aspire.