All Flame

Abba Lot went to see Abba Joseph and said to him, “Abba, as far as I can I say my little office, I fast a little, I pray and meditate, I live in peace and as far as I can, I purify my thoughts. What else can I do?” Then the old man stood up and stretched his hands towards heaven. His fingers became like ten lamps of fire and he said to him, “If you will, you can become all flame.”

Sometimes I pray with people.
Deep pain surfaces, long-held lies.
Jesus brings truth and light,
Peace and direction.

A friend asked me what I do
During those prayers.

And it was hard to answer.

Eyes closed, I see nothing but blackness.

I listen with all my inner ear,
For the next question.

Sometimes we sit in silence.
Tears drip off my chin.

My right palm grows hot and heavy,
But not sweaty and not tingly.

Sometimes the top of my head feels open,
So that I feel like a pipe runs
From my head out my palm,
Flowing with the Holy Spirit.

I have, at times, grown vertiginous.
I have, at times, been unable to move,
Almost unable to catch my breath.
Almost overwhelmed.

It is the most present, most demanding,
Most intense experience I know.

And when peace that passes understanding comes,
My hand remains hot for a while,
And I pray again,
And we sit, prostrate,
Astonished at the presence of God
We have seen and felt.