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Wednesday of the Twenty-sixth week in Ordinary Time

Commentary of the day
Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus (1873-1897), Carmelite, Doctor of the Church
Poem « Jesus, my beloved, remember ! » ; v. 1, 6-8

"The Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head"

Remember the Father's glory,
Remember the divine splendor
You left in exiling yourself on earth
To redeem all the poor sinners.
O Jesus! Humbling yourself to the Virgin Mary,
You veiled your infinite greatness and glory.
Ah! Your mother's breast
Was your second heaven,
Remember…

Remember that on other shores
The golden stars and silver moon
On which I gaze in the cloudless sky
Delighted and charmed your Infant eyes.
With your little hand that caressed Mary
You upheld the world and gave it life,
And you thought of me,
Jesus, my little King,
Remember.

Remember that you worked in solitude
With your divine hands.
To live forgotten was your sweetest task.
You rejected human learning.
O You who with just one word could charm the world,
You took delight in hiding your profound wisdom.
You seemed unlearned,
O All-powerful Lord!
Remember.

Remember that you wandered as a Stranger on earth.
You, the Eternal Word,
You had nothing, no, not even a stone,
Not a shelter, like the birds of heaven.
O Jesus! come within me, come rest your Head,
Come, my soul is truly ready to receive you.
My Beloved Savior,
Rest in my heart.
It is Yours.

Jesus set the book of nature before me and I saw that all the flowers he has created are lovely. The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. I realized that if every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness and there would be no wildflowers to make the meadows gay.
It is just the same in the world of souls - which is the garden of Jesus. He has created the great saints who are like the lilies and the roses, but he has also created much lesser saints and they must be content to be the daisies or the violets which rejoice his eyes whenever he glances down. Perfection consists in doing his will, in being that which he wants us to be.
Jesus, help me to simplify my life by learning what you want me to be - and becoming that person.

-- Saint Thérèse of Lisieux from "Story of a Soul"