. . . My dear daughter, tension is not an academic word for you, is it? But, O daughter, the empty weariness that underlies your letter: this is Jesus. We could think that it would be well with us if the pettiness of life were absent, its complexity, its undiagnosed, let alone unhealed, ills. Yet it is in abandonment, there, precisely there, that we become His possession. "Now is my soul troubled (tense, distressed, weary) and what shall I say?" This is Jesus tasting to the full our human ignorance, not even knowing "what to say" to His Father! Dear daughter, you are being taken deeper into His stark "Yes" every perplexed day.
Sister Wendy Beckett