Someone was opening the doors
It is getting dark. It was a bright and warm day. In the course of its hours, frequently, upon stopping my steps, a strange sensation would invade me: someone has taken my place, I would tell myself, someone has supplanted me. I felt like a puppet moved by the invisible strings of someone who takes the initiative, who speaks in my stead, who walks and acts in my place.
At the end of this long journey, I have empirical evidence: someone has grabbed me by the hair like Ezekiel, lifted me into the air, leaving me now in Babylon, then in Nineveh, later in Thebes to proclaim the temporariness of the Almighty, his inevitability, his remoteness as much as his proximity, his immanence and transcendence, his fascination and his tenderness. I have not been an active subject; I have not done anything.
As I have repeated so many times in these pages, someone was opening the doors before me, and I entered. It has happened again and again. This evidence was so granite-like that, for this reason, difficulties did not crush me, praises did not move me, those who set traps and dug pitfalls in the path did not manage to ensnare me, and successes did not intoxicate me. I did not experience sensible satisfaction in what I was doing, but a quiet assurance of someone who knows himself to be led by the hand of His will, and does what he must do. And the result is a great peace.
Taken from the book “La Rosa y el fuego” (The Rose and the Fire) chapter V: “Desde el mástil más alto” (From the Highest Mast) by Father Ignacio Larrañaga.
