Today is the feast of St. Francis de Sales, Doctor of the Church. A letter to St. Jeanne de Chantal (September 13, 1605):
My God! dear child, when will the time come that our Lady will be born in our hearts? For my part, I see that I am totally unworthy of it; you will think just the same of yourself. But her Son was born in the stable, so courage then, let us get a place prepared for this holy babeling. She loves only places made lowly by humility, common by simplicity, but large by charity; she is willingly near the crib, and at the foot of the cross; she does not mind if she goes into Egypt, far from all comfort, provided she has her dear Son with her.
No, our Lord may wrestle with us and throw us to left or to right; he may, as with other Jacobs, press us, may give us a hundred twists; may engage us, first on one side, then on the other; in short, may do us a thousand hurts : all the same, we will not leave him till he gives us his eternal benediction. And, my child, never does our good God leave us save to hold us better; never does he let go of us save to keep us better, never does he wrestle with us save to give himself up to us and to bless us.
Let us advance, meanwhile, let us advance; let us make our way through these low valleys of the humble and little virtues; we shall see in them the roses amid the thorns, charity which shows it beauty among interior and exterior afflictions; the lilies of purity, the violets of mortification : what shall we see not? Above all, I love these three little virtues, sweetness of heart, poverty of spirit, and simplicity of life; and these substantial (grossiers) exercises, visiting the sick, serving the poor, comforting the afflicted, and the like : but the whole without eagerness, with a true liberty. No, our arms are not yet long enough to reach the cedars of Lebanon; let us content ourselves with the hyssop of the valleys.
