Chapter 57 John in Patmos

I'm going to talk about him again. God gave me not words, but a voice and burning lips. I am not worthy to speak the perfect word, but I will call my heart to my lips. Jesus loves me and I don't know why. I love him too, for he lifts my soul above my body and into depths beyond my reach. Love is a sacred mystery. For the lover it never needs words. For those who don't love, it may just be an unintentional joke. Jesus called us when we brothers were working in the fields. I was young then, and only the voice of the dawn ever entered my ears. But his voice, like the sound of a trumpet, marked the end of my labor and the beginning of my passion.

So, I have no other way but to go forward in the sunshine and worship the present time. Can you imagine: there is a majesty so benevolent that it is not majestic, and a beauty so provocative that it is difficult to perceive its beauty? Can you hear a voice shy with ecstasy in your dreams? He called me, and I followed him. That evening, I went back to my father's house to get some clothes. I told my mother, "Jesus of Nazareth wants me to be his companion." She said, "Son, go his way like your brother." So I accompanied him. His fragrance calls me, commands me, but only to set me free.

Love is a generous host to the guest of love; but to the uninvited guest, the mansion of love is a phantom, and love a mockery. Now, you want to hear me explain the miracles of Jesus. We are all miraculous signs of this moment, and our Lord is the center of this moment. But he doesn't want his signs to be known. I have heard him say to the quilt, "Stand up and go home! But don't tell the priest that I healed you." Jesus' mind was not on the broken, but on the strong and standing. His thought seeks and grasps the thoughts of others, and his complete spirit visits the spirits of others.

In this way, his spirit changed the minds and spirits of those people. It may seem like a miracle, but to our Lord it is as easy as a daily breath. Now let me talk about something else. One day he and I were walking alone in a field, and we were both hungry, so we came to a wild apple tree. There were only two apples on the branch. He hugged the trunk and shook it vigorously, and two apples fell down. He picked up two apples, handed me one, and held the other in his hand. I quickly ate the apples in my hunger. After eating, I saw that he was still holding the apple in his hand. He handed me the apple and said, "Eat this too."

I took the apple and, feeling ashamed of my hunger, ate it. As I continued on my way, I looked at his face. How can I describe to you what I saw? Torches burn in the air in the night; A dream beyond our reach; At noon all the shepherds watched their sheep grazing with peace and joy; A dusk, a piece of tranquility, a homecoming; A deep sleep, a dream; I saw it all in his face. He gave me both apples, but I knew he was just as hungry. But I understand now: in giving me apples he was satisfied, and he himself ate another fruit from another tree. I would like to tell you more about him, but how can I? .

When love becomes broad, it becomes speechless. When the memory load is too heavy, seek the depth of still overflow.