Marie Petyt (1623–1677)
On November 16, 1672, after awakening and then throughout the entire day, I felt as if I was separated from God, poor and abandoned, without light and without taste, and without any possibility of finding a relationship with prayer or at least with a little piety to reach God. This greatly astonished me and filled me with sadness, and I did not know what to think of it and what this sudden change meant: one day encouraged and accepted like a bride or queen, the next day rejected, cast out of the royal palace like a poor beggar whom the Beloved does not know and cannot know, yes, whom He does not even want to look upon.
Enduring these confusions and uncertainties is truly a harsh test for nature! How I feel my incapacity and powerlessness in this state! These are means by which I am being deepened in self-knowledge! What "inventions" of the Beloved to grant me root in the deepest humility, to make me realize that of myself I am nothing, can do nothing, and have nothing, and that everything – if it seems at all that I am something, have something, and can do something – comes solely from God's goodness, from His kindness and grace, how, when, how long, and how much He pleases, and not more!
When my soul was "transplanted" into this sad and wretched state, it seemed to be susceptible to all possible forms of oppression, pain, and torment, susceptible to all temptations, crosses, dejection, and disturbances, susceptible to all bad inspirations and motions; while before it seemed to be susceptible only to divine light, its workings within, divine perceptions, the comfort of the Holy Spirit, movements of love, etc. Oh, what a change it is! How different these states are! In the previous state, it seemed that grace lifted my soul to soar high like an eagle and see the sun, to live in God like a heavenly being that has nothing to do with what is on earth. And in the following state, I was like a worm crawling on the ground, living only in its own nature and in thousands of foreign thoughts, in suffering, in doubts, and in the unrest of the soul. Like a worm that is crushed and trampled, I felt completely powerless and without strength to help myself.
After the Beloved had for a time borne fruit in my soul with His flowing sweet Spirit of love... He brought me forth again (from myself) and united me with Himself at a much higher and purer level (of unification). When I contemplate and reflect on this, these changes and new "ascents" to ever higher levels of perfection and inner union with God evoke in me great astonishment. Each time the Beloved shows me a higher level of perfection, purity, and inner union with Him, I have the impression that I can no longer ascend further and that I am now standing at the highest level at which the Beloved wants to have me. And behold: as soon as I assume this level of perfection, purity, or union with Him and practice in it for some time, the Beloved suddenly ends this mode, so that I can no longer practice in it...
This new mode and this new "ascent" is such that every previous straightforwardness seems distorted to me, all prior purity tainted, all previous simplicity appears as fragmentation, and all detachment mingles with nature. In a word: all my previous perfection seems barely the beginning of the perfection that is now shown to me and that is now required of me, namely, immediate unification of spirit with the divine Spirit. He wishes to take complete "dominion" over all the powers of the soul, over all the senses, and over all the limbs of the body, so that He may live and act in them and through them.
Oh, what all divine love accomplishes in the person in whom it has found a dwelling and in whom it can act! When I had previously rested in God and was united with Him in silence and solitude, in detachment and immersion in Him, then this new turning to Him, dwelling in His core, clinging to Him, perceiving, dissolving in Him, and uniting with Him occurs in love that I feel even more: it seems as if the whole person transforms into love, by loving without measure, without bounds, without limitations. It seems that the Spirit of love works in me in such a way that there is no resemblance to the love with which I have loved God up to now. Yes, it seems to me as if I have not loved God at all in my life so far. The light of the sun causes the light of the stars to fade; in this way, my current love transcends all previous love, for it seems that the pure divine love that I now perceive, love without the admixture of nature, owns us, moves us, leads us, and brings us solely to God in all things, experiencing God for God and through God in all things.
Taken from the book: Leben aus dem Nichts
Author: Maria Petyt
Published by: Vier-Türme-Verlag Münsterschwarzach, 1995
Translated by: Norbert Žuška, OCarm.
