The Warrior of Christ Must Do Everything Possible to Avoid Anxiety and Inner Turmoil If He Wishes to Overcome His Enemies

Just as every Christian has an urgent duty, whenever he loses his inner peace, to do everything within his power to restore it, no less binding is his obligation not to allow the circumstances of daily life to disturb that peace—I mean illness, wounds, the death of loved ones, wars, fires, sudden joys, fears and sorrows, memories of past transgressions and mistakes—in short, everything by which the heart is ordinarily agitated and troubled. Not to allow such disturbances and agitations in these situations is obligatory because, if one yields to them, one loses self-mastery and becomes incapable of seeing events clearly and discerning the right course of action; and both of these losses give the enemy access to stir one up still further and to push one into some step that is hard or altogether impossible to undo.

I do not mean: do not allow grief—for that is not within our power; I mean: do not allow grief to take over your heart and throw it into turmoil. Keep it outside, beyond the threshold of the heart, and hasten to soften and quiet it so that it does not hinder you from thinking soundly and acting rightly. This, with God’s help, is within our power, if the moral and religious feelings and dispositions within us are strong.

Each affliction has its own particular character, and there are specific remedies for each; but I am speaking of them in general, having in mind their common property—to trouble and disturb the soul—and wishing to propose to you one common remedy against this. That remedy is faith in the good Providence of God, which orders the course of our life with all its circumstances for the personal good of each of us, and serene submission to the will of God as it is expressed in our situation—a submission from which, in the depths of the soul, the cry would rise: may God’s will be done! As the Lord willed, so it came to pass, and it came to pass for our good.

This good is recognized and felt differently by different people. One person recognizes: it is God’s kindness leading me to repentance; another feels: the Lord has sent me this because of my sins, to cleanse me of them—I am bearing God’s penance; a third reflects: the Lord is testing me, to see whether I serve Him sincerely. Those looking on from the outside at a person undergoing afflictions may think a fourth thing: this is happening to him so that the works of God may be made manifest in him. But this last understanding can have its proper place only after the afflictions have ended, and only when God’s help has been visibly evident. Within the soul of the one who is suffering, only the first three feelings are appropriate. And each of these is of such a nature and power that whichever one enters the heart, it is capable of stilling the rising storm of grief and establishing serene peace of heart.

Here, then, is a universal remedy for bringing peace to the heart when afflictions threaten to disturb it: kindle as strongly as you can your faith in God’s good Providence over you and revive in your soul a God-surrendered submission to His will; then direct toward your heart the thoughts described above and compel it to feel that the present painful circumstance is either a test from the Lord, or a purifying penance He is laying upon you, or a call to repentance—either in general, or specifically concerning some forgotten act that remains uncorrected. The moment the heart feels any one of these things, the grief will immediately subside and give it the opportunity to receive the other two feelings as well; and all three together will more quickly establish in you such peace and serenity that you cannot help but cry out: blessed be the name of the Lord forever! As oil upon the waves of the sea, so are these feelings upon a grieving heart: the waves grow calm and there is a great stillness.

Bring peace to your heart in this way whenever it has been disturbed in any degree. But if, through long labor upon yourself and spiritual effort, you succeed in planting the feelings described so deeply in the heart that they fill it without departing, then no affliction will disturb you, for such a disposition will be for you the most effective preventive safeguard against it. Not that sorrowful feelings will no longer approach; they will approach, but will immediately draw back—like waves of the sea from a firm cliff.