You are the Delight of my Heart

“You are the delight of my Heart.” Christ soothes the heart of St Faustina Kowalska with this tender whisper. She writes of it often in her diary. We are all the delight of his heart. You are. Do you believe it?

Last month I accompanied my brother (who is also a Legionary studying in Rome with me) to have dinner with a priest he knew who was in town. We went to a restaurant a couple blocks down from the Pantheon called Alfredo’s. It is actually the “birthplace” of fettuccine alfredo—and they made sure we knew and experienced it! On our way home, we missed the 9 pm train, and the next one wasn’t until 10:30. It was a pretty brisk winter’s night, and the sun had set long ago, so I paced up and down alongside the tracks to keep warm. On the last bench of the station was seated a woman, Maria Luisa. She must have been in her early 60’s, and she didn’t look too good. She looked cold, but worse than that, her bloodshot eyes were a window into what seemed a sad and lonely heart. I smiled at her every time I passed by. After pacing a bit, I noticed a bottle of liquor at her side that she had been drinking from and continued to do so. My heart couldn’t help but go out to her. I felt Jesus wanted to tell her too, “Maria Luisa, my daughter, you are the delight of my Heart.”

I kept pacing back and forth, but the more I passed her, the more I felt that urge of our Lord to tell her he loved her. Finally I couldn’t resist any longer. (Poor Jesus often has to insist ad nauseam for thick skulls like mine) “How are you? It sure is a cold one. Are you keeping warm?” (I actually attempted in Italian, but it DEFINITELY didn’t flow that easily.) She told me that she was ok. That answer obviously didn’t mean great, good, or that she just had a bit of a cold. “What’s wrong?” She told me she was alone in life and had no one to love her. That is painful to hear. I know Christ loves her so, so much, to the point of dying on the cross for his beloved Maria Luisa, but she couldn’t see it. “Maria, I think Jesus wants to tell you that he loves you so much.”

We had quite a long conversation about many different things. I told her who I was and what I was up to. She told me she was a theologian, and taught at one of the nearby universities. The train came, and we both got on. I kept telling her how much Jesus loved her, and even how she could count on my little brotherly love. She needed to know it. Everyone needs to know how much they are personally loved by Jesus! My stop arrived. I said my goodbyes, told her one last time that she was very loved, and stepped off the train.

As I walked home from the train station that chilly night, heart bleeding a bit to see such loneliness in a heart Christ has loved so much, I asked myself: am I convinced of his love for me? Is his love enough, or do I look for other loves to fill me? Am I worried that he might not be enough?

Lent is a beautiful time to ask yourself this question. Do I take safety measures that inhibit Christ from filling me with his love just in case that love isn’t all I need? Christ is bleeding to enter your heart. You are his beloved. Be convinced of this. It is everything in life. Don’t stop asking for the grace of this certainty. You are the delight of his heart. Give him his delight!