… Perfection consists simply in doing his will, and being just what he wants us to be.
This, too, was made clear to me-- that our Lord’s love makes itself seen quite as much in the simplest of souls as in the most highly gifted, as long as there is no resistance offered to his grace. After all, the whole point of love is making yourself small; and if we were all like the great Doctors who have shed lustre on the Church by their brilliant teaching, there wouldn’t be much condescension on God’s part, would there, about coming into hearts like these? But no, he has created little children, who have no idea what’s going on and can only express themselves by helpless crying: he has made the poor savages, with nothing better than the natural law to live by; and he is content to forget his dignity and come into their hearts too-- these are the wild flowers that delight him by their simplicity. It is by such condescension that God shews his infinite greatness. The sun’s light, that plays on the cedar-trees, plays on each tiny flower as if it were the only one in existence; and in the same way our Lord takes a special interest in each soul, as if there were no other like it. Everything conspires for the good of each soul, just as the march of the seasons is designed to make the most insignificant daisy unfold its petals on the day appointed for it.