Fear and trembling will hold my soul when I want to write about the love of God.

Poor is my soul, and I have no strength to describe the love of the Lord.

And the soul is afraid, and at the same time it is drawn to write at least a few words about the love of Christ. My spirit is weary to write this, but love compels me.

Oh, man, is a feeble creature.

When grace is in us, the spirit burns and yearns for the Lord day and night, for grace binds the soul to love God, and it has loved Him, and does not want to tear itself away from Him, for it cannot be satisfied with the sweetness of the Holy Spirit.

And there is no end to God's love.

I know a man whom the Merciful Lord has visited by His grace; and if the Lord had asked him: "Do you want to give you more?" then from the weakness of the flesh the soul would have said:

"You see, Lord, that if it is more, I will die," for man is limited and cannot bear the fullness of grace.

Thus, on Tabor, the disciples of Christ fell down on their faces from the glory of the Lord. And no one can comprehend how the Lord gives His grace to the soul.

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Thou art good, O Lord. I thank Thy mercy: Thou hast poured out Thy Holy Spirit upon me and made me taste Thy love for me, so much sinner, and my soul is drawn to Thee, the Unapproachable Light.

Who could know Thee, if not Thou, the Merciful, Thou Thyself deign to show Thyself to the soul? And she saw Thee, and knew her Creator the good God, and insatiably desires Thee always, for Thou, the Merciful, hast drawn the soul to Thee by love, and the soul has come to know Thy love.

Thou seest, O Lord, how weak and sinful is the soul of man, but Thou, the Merciful, give the soul the strength to love Thee, and the soul fears lest it lose the humility which the enemies are trying to take away from it, for then Thy grace will leave the soul.

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