he essence of all spirituality is this: "Complete and utter abandonment to the Will of God! We must offer ourselves to God like a clean, smooth canvas and not worry ourselves about what God may choose to paint on it, but at each moment, feel only the stroke of His brush … It is the same with a piece of stone. Each blow from the sculptor's chisel makes it feel-if it could-as if it were being destroyed. As blow after blow descends, the stone knows nothing of how the sculptor is shaping it. All it feels is a chisel chopping away at it, cutting it, and mutilating it. For example, let's take a piece of stone destined to be carved into a crucifix or a statue. We might ask it: 'What do you think is happening to you?" And it might answer: "Don't ask me. All I know is that I must stay immobile in the hands of the sculptor … I have no idea what he is doing, nor do I know what lie will make of me. But I know his work is the best possible. It is perfect and so I welcome each blow of his chisel as the best thing that could happen to me, although, if I'm to be truthful, I feel that every one of these blows is ruining me, destroying me, and disfiguring me."
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