Make Me a Mystic

Several weeks ago, while lying in bed, Jake showed me a post on On Being's site about a new publication of Flannery O'Connor's personal writings. It's called A Prayer Journal, and it contains many intimately familiar thoughts/desires/hopes/prayers. I especially loved the following:

Dear God, I cannot love Thee the way I want to. You are the slim crescent of a moon that I see and my self is the earth's shadow that keeps me from seeing all the moon. The crescent is very beautiful and perhaps that is all one like I am should or could see; but what I am afraid of, Dear God, is that my self shadow will grow so large that it blocks the whole moon, and that I will judge myself by the shadow that is nothing. 

I do not know You God because I am in the way. Please help me to push myself aside.

I've been dwelling on this old idea experienced through new [old] words.

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