When I sing about the happiness of Heaven, about the eternal possession of God, I feel no joy from it, for I sing simply about what I want to believe. It is true that sometimes a thin ray of sunlight illuminates my darkness, then the trial momentarily ceases, but afterwards, instead of the memory of this ray bringing me joy, it makes my darkness even more impenetrable. My Mother, I have never felt so well how gracious and merciful the Lord is, He sent me this trial only when I had the strength to bear it, I believe that earlier it would have brought me to despondency. Now He removes everything that could be a natural satisfaction in my desire for Heaven. Beloved Mother, it now seems to me that nothing prevents me from leaving, for I no longer have any great desires, only the desire to love so much that I die of love.
(Therese of Lisieux, manuscript C, 7v)
