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I’m currently reading The Impact of God: Soundings from St. John of the Cross, by Fr. Iain Matthew. I haven’t gotten very far, but I was struck by something today . . .

I’m in chapter 4, A Quiet Man Speaks, and for the last couple or three pages, Fr. Matthew has been talking about how when your relationship with God gets deep enough, strong enough, or mature enough, you can no longer describe the experience with words.

Why am I even trying to write about how words aren’t enough sometimes?  How they can actually get in the way and be worse than useless?

I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.  I just feel like saying that I finally found a connection with St. John of the Cross!

This is a big deal for me, since I’ve been trying to understand St. John’s work for years now.  I’m finally starting to get it, YAY.

The thing I’ve realized is, it’s not what he wrote in his poems that holds meaning so much as what the reader can grasp at in between the lines. It’s not what he wrote, it’s what he didn’t write, that is finally speaking to me.

When prayer gets to the point where words are useless, then you’ve found Someone. . . or, rather, He has found you.

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