BLESSED ELIA OF SAINT CLEMENT
Theodora, a name meaning "gift of God," was born January 17, 1901, in Bari, Italy. She entered the Carmelite monastery there at the age of nineteen, and died seven years later on Christmas day after making her total offering of herself to God in 1924. She was beatified in 2005 by Pope Benedict XVI.
From her writings:
My Delight, who could ever separate me from You? Who could be capable of breaking these strong chains that keep my heart attached to Yours? Perhaps the abandonment of creatures? It is precisely this that unites the soul to its Creator. . . . Perhaps tribulations, suffering, crosses? It is in these thorns that the canticle of the soul that loves You is freest and lightest. Perhaps death? But this will be nothing but the beginning of true happiness for the soul. . . . Nothing, nothing can separate this soul from You, not even for a brief moment. It was created for You and is lost if it does not abandon itself to You.
My life is love; this sweet nectar surrounds me, this merciful love penetrates me, purifies me, renews me, and I feel it consuming me. The cry of my heart is, "Love of my God, my soul searches for You alone." My soul, suffer and be quiet; love and hope; offer yourself, but hide your suffering behind a smile, and always move on . . . . I want to spend my life in deep silence, in the depths of my heart, in order to listen to the gentle voice of my sweet Jesus.
Theodora, a name meaning "gift of God," was born January 17, 1901, in Bari, Italy. She entered the Carmelite monastery there at the age of nineteen, and died seven years later on Christmas day after making her total offering of herself to God in 1924. She was beatified in 2005 by Pope Benedict XVI.
From her writings:
My Delight, who could ever separate me from You? Who could be capable of breaking these strong chains that keep my heart attached to Yours? Perhaps the abandonment of creatures? It is precisely this that unites the soul to its Creator. . . . Perhaps tribulations, suffering, crosses? It is in these thorns that the canticle of the soul that loves You is freest and lightest. Perhaps death? But this will be nothing but the beginning of true happiness for the soul. . . . Nothing, nothing can separate this soul from You, not even for a brief moment. It was created for You and is lost if it does not abandon itself to You.
My life is love; this sweet nectar surrounds me, this merciful love penetrates me, purifies me, renews me, and I feel it consuming me. The cry of my heart is, "Love of my God, my soul searches for You alone." My soul, suffer and be quiet; love and hope; offer yourself, but hide your suffering behind a smile, and always move on . . . . I want to spend my life in deep silence, in the depths of my heart, in order to listen to the gentle voice of my sweet Jesus.
Souls, I will search for a way to cast you into the sea of Merciful Love: souls of sinners, but above all souls of priests and religious. To this end my existence is slowly disappearing, consumed like "the oil of the lamp that watches near the Tabernacle." I sense the vastness of my soul, its infinite greatness that the immensity of this world cannot contain. It was created to lose itself in You, my God, because You alone are great, infinite, and thus You alone can make me completely happy.