At one point I hesitated to let Elizabeth come in to play with Cindy and Mike, because I feared that the kids might start making noise, and I was looking for silence and solitude. However they all settled down quietly on the floor to watch Sesame Street. As I sat with them, my soul was totally occupied with God.
After Sesame Street the kids started to play on the living room floor, half-listening to Mr. Rogers talking in the background.
It was a little after 5 pm, and I had to force myself to go to the kitchen to make ready for supper. I would have much rather continued to sit quietly to let the intense sweetness in my soul keep me absorbed in the Presence of God, but Frank was coming home from the office expecting dinner to be ready, so I had to get going.
In the kitchen I tried very diligently to focus on what I was doing, because the heavenly sweetness in my soul made it hard for me to concentrate on anything that was not God. I became completely consumed inside, like wax exposed to a fire.
Resistance was useless and I started staggering, loosing my balance, and eventually had to seek support against a wall, because the physical weakness overpowered me, forcing the energy out of my body.
I knew that the kids could stumble into the kitchen at any time and I didn't want anyone to see me panting and staggering like that, so as soon as I felt a little strength return to my legs, I slowly and with some difficulty resumed my dinner preparation.
When Frank returned from the office, I went to greet him as usual, only this time I hugged him very tight, foolishly hoping that, by so doing, I could transfer the excess of the painful delight that overwhelmed my soul into him, and get some much needed relief, but it didn’t work.
I didn’t talk about what was happening to me because I was afraid that he'd be unable to understand the sacredness of what I was experiencing, and I am also very protective of it as it seems to me that talking about it will trivialize it.
I noticed that when I am in this state I am never hungry. Even the finest food seems gross and bulky to me, and I am repulsed by it. Still on this particular occasion I forced in a few green beans and some lemonade to be a good example for the kids, and good company for Frank at the table.
After that, just as expected, that delightful torment gradually began to recede. It had been with me all day, and I was relieved to finally be able to be myself again without pretending to be "normal", but I was also sad, because as long as it stays with me I feel that God is 'remembering' me."
Turn to Me - John Foley
