Shadows to Light

48. The person who fears the Lord has humility as his constant companion and, through the thoughts which humility inspires, reaches a state of divine love and thankfulness. For he recalls his former worldly way of life, the various sins he has committed and the temptations which have befallen him since his youth; and he recalls, too, how the Lord delivered him from all this, and how He led him away from a passion-dominated life to a life ruled by God. Then, together with fear, he also receives love, and in deep humility continually gives thanks to the Benefactor and Helmsman of our lives.

St. Maximus the Confessor Four Hundred Centuries on Love: #48

We start to tread the life of a voyager that sails through the stormy waves of existence. Their vessel, in time past, drifted down the current of ordinary desires and was ever prone to the tempests of sin and the whirlpools of transgression. But in youth the compass of the voyager spun like a dervish at Mecca, as if under the strong influence of gales of passion, not the stars of virtue. Memories are of life in a shroud of shadows as if every decision was driving one deeper into the night.

And through this history of the shattered war world there falls a light, the fear of the Lord—not the one that paralyzes, but the one that awes, firm hand on the tiller. And humility is the most gentle, most transformative companion to this fear, it re-calibrates the voyager's compass of the soul, pointing them always toward the dawn.

The voyager reflects on the odyssey of their life. Standing on the side of the river, they could see with clear eyes the waters of their near drowning, the sins that tried to swallow them, and the mercies that have borne them to this place of safety. These memories do not chain them to the past; rather, they anchor them in gratitude.

For in this recollection, they see the hand of the Divine Helmsman, who has guided them in history not so much by force as by love. They see the transformation of their own life: from being dictated by an unruly passion to the sails hoisted under the flag of divine providence.

It was no more than gratitude. It became the rhythm of their heart, the breath in their lungs. After every thought of thanksgiving, the voyager's love to the Lord would swell, and the fear which in the beginning was mere awe, matured into such unceasing love—a love unchanging as the polestar.

It is not blind love; it is the clear sight, for it sees the tapestry of life not as a pattern of chances, but a design of purpose by the hand of the ultimate Benefactor. And so, lost but now found, the voyager moves on with divine love swelling their heart and their lips ever whispering prayers of thanksgiving.

We are fellow voyagers on this sea of spirit. Let us take hold of that humility walking side by side with the fear of the Lord. Let us remember our own lives, our deliverance, and our guidance. Let this remembrance bring forth in us the deepest love, the most enduring thankfulness. For it is in this state of thankfulness that we, too, shall know the steady hand of the Lord upon our lives, guiding us from the shadows into His marvelous light.