Lord, You speak to me today of evangelization.
Ground so rocky. Heart so dry. Can’t believe you’re choosing me.
It’s like a cross upon my shoulders, dragging it’s weight behind me.
Strive and strive to till this soil. Muscles ache, all energy spent. Thorns cover this place and hands, they bleed.
How could this heart-ground possibly be your fertile Church?
” It is true that I am pleased that your eyes not rest until you have planted me a garden in your heart. And true too that there is much fruit to bear. But you are forgetting the order of things.”
His greatest power is His Mercy. Do I receive it in confession?
Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.
How do I receive Him at Mass… the Word….the Seed that falls down from heaven for me?
On rocky ground? Where thorns surround? Am I listening when Word is proclaimed?
And on the way to communion with Him, do birds come, and steal Him away from me?
I have been trying so hard, too hard on my own. Only grace can change this now.
Then chalice meets my lips….”the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church.” I believe.
Like fertile ground, I receive.
The garden begins with His love first. I must let Him be my Father, let Him rain down all good gifts.
It is the human person’s most precious gift. The ability to receive.
The dragging cross now plows the earth behind me!
The soil softens. The heart warms with the Light of this Son, and quickens with the circulation of His own Blood. The Seed has a place to grow.
The Church can now be fertile.