When the Lord Leads Along the Way

The Bible in a Year

“I being in the way, the Lord led me to the house of my master’s brethren.” Genesis 24:27

Genesis 24 unfolds as one of Scripture’s most tender and instructive narratives on divine providence, not through spectacle, but through faithfulness in ordinary obedience. Abraham’s unnamed servant is given a task of immense importance: to journey far from home and secure a wife for Isaac, the son of promise. The future of God’s covenant line is, humanly speaking, entrusted to a single journey and a faithful response. Yet what stands out most in the chapter is not the servant’s strategy or ingenuity, but his growing awareness that God Himself is quietly ordering every step. His testimony, “I being in the way, the Lord led me,” becomes a distilled confession of faith—one that many believers come to only after years of reflection on their own lives.

The consequences of divine providence are evident almost immediately in the story. The servant is led, not merely to any household, but precisely to Abraham’s own kin. The journey is successful not because the servant controlled every variable, but because God worked within circumstances beyond his control. Scripture often reminds us how dependent we truly are on God’s unseen governance. Proverbs later echoes this truth: “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” The servant’s safe travel, timely arrival, and ultimate success all serve as reminders that human effort, while necessary, is never sufficient on its own. We often underestimate how much of life’s progress is shaped by God’s gracious intervention rather than our careful planning.

Yet Genesis 24 also emphasizes a critical condition for experiencing providence in its richest sense: obedience. The servant does not wander aimlessly, hoping for divine intervention. He goes exactly where Abraham instructs him to go. The phrase “I being in the way” is not incidental. It suggests movement, alignment, and submission. The servant places himself within the path of obedience, and it is there that God’s guidance becomes clear. Obedience is rarely celebrated in the broader culture, which prizes autonomy and self-determination. Scripture, however, presents obedience not as limitation, but as the environment in which divine blessing flourishes. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “Only the obedient believe, and only the believer obeys.” In Genesis 24, obedience becomes the doorway through which providence enters the story.

The character of divine providence in this chapter is perhaps the most instructive aspect for daily life. Nothing about the servant’s encounter with Rebekah appears extraordinary at first glance. A well, a conversation, a simple act of hospitality—these are the hinges upon which history turns. Someone has rightly observed that “great doors swing on small hinges,” and Genesis 24 embodies that truth with remarkable clarity. The servant arrives at the well at precisely the moment Rebekah appears. Her willingness to serve confirms the prayer he has quietly lifted to God. To the casual observer, it might seem like coincidence. Scripture, however, invites us to see these moments through a different lens. God’s people learn to recognize that what the world labels “chance” is often providence moving quietly behind the scenes.

This understanding reshapes how we read not only Genesis, but our own stories. Divine providence rarely announces itself with thunder. More often, it arrives disguised as a phone call returned at the right moment, a conversation overheard, a delay that redirects our steps, or an unexpected meeting that alters the course of our lives. These moments may appear small, but their impact can be lasting. In Genesis 24, a meeting at a well leads to a marriage that secures the covenant lineage through which God’s promises will unfold. In our own lives, similar moments may open doors to new callings, restored relationships, or unforeseen opportunities for faithfulness.

As we journey through the Scriptures in this year-long reading, Genesis 24 invites us to cultivate attentiveness. The servant’s faith was not passive; he prayed, watched, and responded with gratitude when God made His leading evident. His response in verse 27 is worshipful acknowledgment, not self-congratulation. He blesses the Lord for steadfast love and faithfulness, recognizing that the journey’s success was never merely his own. Matthew Henry reflects on this passage by noting, “Those that follow God’s guidance may safely trust His providence.” That confidence grows as we learn to trace God’s hand not only in dramatic deliverance, but in the steady accumulation of small, faithful steps.

This story encourages us to resist the temptation to divide life into sacred and ordinary. For the servant, obedience did not remove uncertainty, but it positioned him to see God’s faithfulness within it. As we continue reading Scripture day by day, we are reminded that divine providence is not confined to biblical history. The same God who guided a servant to a well continues to guide His people today, often in ways we recognize only in hindsight. Our calling is not to force outcomes, but to remain “in the way”—walking faithfully, listening attentively, and trusting that the Lord is at work even when His movements seem quiet.

For further reflection on the doctrine of God’s providence, consider this helpful resource from Ligonier Ministries:
https://www.ligonier.org/learn/articles/what-doctrine-providence

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When God Calls You to Lead Through the Unknown: 3 Battlefield Lessons from Joseph’s 90-Mile March to Bethlehem

3,096 words, 16 minutes read time.

I’ve been thinking about Joseph lately. Not the flashy coat guy—the other one. The carpenter who got handed the most impossible assignment in human history: “Hey, your fiancée is pregnant, but it’s not yours, and by the way, you need to protect the Son of God.” No pressure, right?

If you’ve ever felt the weight of responsibility crushing your shoulders, if you’ve ever had to lead when you didn’t have all the answers, if you’ve ever wondered how to be strong when everything feels uncertain—then Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem has something to teach you. This isn’t just a Christmas card story. It’s a masterclass in masculine faith under fire.

I want to walk you through three hard-won lessons from that brutal 90-mile trek from Nazareth to Bethlehem. These aren’t feel-good platitudes. They’re battlefield tactics for when God calls you to step up and lead through the chaos. Because here’s the truth: God often calls men to protect what’s precious precisely when the path forward looks impossible.

Joseph’s Silent Strength: When Real Leadership Doesn’t Need Words

I’ve noticed something about Joseph that hits me right in the gut every time I read these passages. In the entire biblical account, Joseph never speaks. Not one word. Matthew and Luke record his actions, his obedience, his protection of Mary and Jesus—but they never record him saying anything. And brother, that silence speaks volumes about the kind of man he was.

Think about it. Most of us men feel the need to explain ourselves, to justify our decisions, to make sure everyone knows we’re in charge. I know I do. When I’m leading my family through a tough decision, I want to lay out my reasoning, defend my position, make sure everyone understands why I’m doing what I’m doing. But Joseph? He just acts. When the angel tells him to take Mary as his wife, he does it. When the government demands he travel to Bethlehem for a census, he goes. When another dream warns him to flee to Egypt, he packs up in the middle of the night.

This wasn’t passive silence—this was the silence of a man who understood that sometimes leadership means shutting up and doing the work. It’s like a master craftsman at his bench. He doesn’t need to announce every cut he makes or explain why he’s using a particular joint. His work speaks for itself. Joseph was that kind of man, and in a world full of loud voices and empty promises, we need more men like him.

Consider the cultural powder keg Joseph was navigating. In first-century Jewish society, honor and shame weren’t abstract concepts—they were social currency. Mary’s pregnancy before the wedding ceremony would have been scandalous beyond our modern comprehension. The law allowed for public disgrace, even stoning. Joseph had every legal right to expose her, to protect his own reputation, to walk away clean.

But Matthew 1:19 tells us Joseph was a “righteous man” who didn’t want to disgrace her publicly. He planned to divorce her quietly. Even before the angel’s intervention, Joseph chose protection over self-preservation. He chose her honor over his own vindication. That’s the kind of strength I’m talking about—the strength to absorb the blow so someone else doesn’t have to.

The Greek word used for “righteous” here is “dikaios,” which means more than just following rules. It implies a man aligned with God’s character, someone who embodies justice tempered with mercy. Joseph could have been technically right and morally wrong. Instead, he chose the harder path—the path of sacrificial protection.

I think about this when I’m facing decisions that affect my family. How often do I choose the path that makes me look good versus the path that protects those under my care? How often do I prioritize being right over being righteous? Joseph’s example cuts through my excuses like a hot knife through butter.

The journey to Bethlehem itself reveals more of Joseph’s character. Put yourself in his sandals for a moment. Your wife is nine months pregnant. The Roman government—the occupying force that has crushed your people under its boot—demands you travel 90 miles through bandit-infested territory to register for a tax census. The safe thing, the reasonable thing, would be to find an exemption. Surely a pregnant woman could stay home?

But Joseph goes. Why? Because sometimes obedience to earthly authority is part of our witness. Paul would later write in Romans about submitting to governing authorities. Joseph lived it out decades before Paul penned those words. He didn’t protest, didn’t complain (at least not that we’re told), didn’t use Mary’s condition as an excuse. He simply prepared for the journey and led his family forward.

This is construction-site leadership. When you’re pouring a foundation, you don’t get to wait for perfect weather. You work with what you’ve got. You adapt. You protect your crew from the elements as best you can, but the work must go on. Joseph understood this. He couldn’t change the census decree. He couldn’t make the journey shorter. He couldn’t guarantee comfortable accommodations in Bethlehem. But he could be faithful with what was in his control: getting his family safely from point A to point B.

The Cost of Obedience: When Following God Disrupts Everything

Let me be straight with you—obedience to God will wreck your five-year plan. If you’re looking for a faith that fits neatly into your life without messing up your schedule, your finances, or your reputation, then you’re looking for something other than biblical Christianity. Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem is Exhibit A in God’s habit of calling men to costly obedience.

Think about what this census meant for Joseph’s livelihood. He was a “tekton” in Greek—traditionally translated as carpenter, but really meaning a construction worker, someone who worked with wood and stone. In a world without power tools, building a reputation and client base took years of consistent work. Every day away from Nazareth was a day not earning, not building relationships with customers, not teaching apprentices. This wasn’t a vacation; it was an economic disruption.

I’ve been there. Maybe you have too. That moment when following God’s call means walking away from the secure job, the familiar routine, the predictable income. It’s like being asked to dismantle the engine you just spent months rebuilding because God has a different vehicle in mind. Everything in you screams that this is inefficient, wasteful, even irresponsible. But obedience rarely follows the rules of human efficiency.

The timing of the census adds another layer of difficulty. Mary is “great with child” as Luke puts it. Any man who’s been through pregnancy with his wife knows the anxiety of those final weeks. You’re checking for signs of labor, making sure the midwife is on standby, keeping everything ready for that moment when it all kicks off. Now imagine loading your nine-months-pregnant wife onto a donkey for a week-long journey through rough terrain.

This wasn’t just inconvenient—it was dangerous. Ancient travel was hazardous under the best circumstances. Bandits prowled the roads between cities. The terrain between Nazareth and Bethlehem includes significant elevation changes. There were no hospitals along the way, no emergency services to call. If Mary went into labor on the road, Joseph would have to handle it with whatever help he could find from fellow travelers or nearby villagers.

But here’s what grips me about Joseph: he doesn’t negotiate with God. He doesn’t say, “Lord, I’ll go after the baby is born.” He doesn’t look for loopholes in the census law. He counts the cost and pays it. This is the kind of radical obedience that separates spiritual boys from spiritual men.

The physical journey itself would have been grueling. Having made similar trips through that terrain, I can tell you it’s not a casual stroll. The route from Nazareth to Bethlehem covers approximately 90 miles, depending on the path taken. In good conditions, with a healthy person walking, you might cover 20 miles a day. With a pregnant woman? Maybe 10-15 miles on a good day. We’re talking about a week or more of travel.

Each night would bring its own challenges. Where to sleep? Travelers often camped in the open or sought shelter in caves. How to keep Mary comfortable? The basic provisions they could carry would have been minimal—bread, dried fish, water skins, a few blankets. Every morning meant packing up and facing another day of dust, sun, and uncertainty.

I think about Joseph watching Mary’s discomfort increase with each passing mile. Any husband knows the helpless feeling of watching your wife in pain and not being able to fix it. Yet he pressed on. Why? Because sometimes obedience means leading your family through discomfort toward a purpose you can’t fully see yet.

The economic cost extended beyond lost wages. Travel required money—food for the journey, fodder for the donkey, potentially tolls or fees along the way. The census itself was about taxation, adding insult to injury. Joseph was spending money he probably couldn’t spare to register for taxes he didn’t want to pay to an empire he didn’t choose to serve.

But this is where Joseph’s faith shines brightest. He understood something we often forget: God’s commands don’t come with exemption clauses for inconvenience. When God says move, you move. When earthly authority aligns with God’s greater purpose (even unknowingly), you submit. Not because it’s easy or comfortable or makes sense, but because faithfulness is measured in obedience, not outcomes.

This challenges me to my core. How often do I treat God’s commands like suggestions, weighing them against my comfort and convenience? How often do I delay obedience until the timing suits me better? Joseph’s immediate, costly obedience exposes my excuses for what they are—failures of faith dressed up as wisdom.

Providence in the Chaos: Finding God’s Hand in Life’s Detours

Brothers, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from walking with God, it’s this: His GPS doesn’t work like ours. We want the fastest route with no traffic. God often takes us on what looks like detours through construction zones, only to reveal later that the “delay” was the whole point. Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem is the perfect example of divine providence disguised as government bureaucracy.

On the surface, this whole situation looks like a cosmic comedy of errors. A census forces a pregnant woman to travel at the worst possible time. They arrive in Bethlehem only to find no room anywhere. The Son of God is born in what was likely a cave used for sheltering animals, laid in a feeding trough. If you were scripting the entrance of the Messiah, this isn’t how you’d write it.

But pull back the lens and watch God’s sovereignty at work. Seven hundred years before Joseph loaded Mary onto that donkey, the prophet Micah wrote, “But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel” (Micah 5:2). God used a pagan emperor’s tax grab to fulfill ancient prophecy. Caesar Augustus thought he was flexing Roman might. In reality, he was an unwitting servant moving chess pieces on God’s board.

This is what I mean by providence in the chaos. Caesar didn’t know about Micah’s prophecy. He didn’t care about Jewish messiahs or ancient promises. He wanted an accurate count for taxation. But God specializes in using the plans of kings and rulers to accomplish His purposes. Proverbs 21:1 says, “The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will.”

Think about that for a minute. The most powerful man in the known world issues a decree that disrupts millions of lives, and behind it all, God is directing the stream toward His intended destination. Joseph and Mary probably didn’t feel the providence in the moment. They felt the ache in their feet, the dust in their throats, the anxiety of finding shelter. But they were walking in the very center of God’s will.

I’ve lived this truth more times than I can count. The job loss that led to a better position. The closed door that redirected me toward God’s actual plan. The inconvenient move that positioned our family for unexpected ministry. What looked like chaos was actually divine choreography. But here’s the catch—you rarely see it in real time. Providence requires the rearview mirror.

Consider the “no room in the inn” situation. The Greek word Luke uses is “kataluma,” which can mean inn, but more likely refers to a guest room. Bethlehem was Joseph’s ancestral home—he probably had relatives there. But the census had brought many descendants of David back to town. The guest rooms were full. So they ended up in the lower level where animals were kept, possibly a cave adjacent to a house.

From our perspective, this seems like failure. The King of Kings born in a barn? But God’s perspective is different. The shepherds—religious and social outcasts—could approach a cave more easily than a house. The manger, a feeding trough, becomes a profound symbol: Jesus, the Bread of Life, placed where food goes. What looked like plan B was actually plan A all along.

This reshapes how I view the detours in my own journey. That career path that got derailed? Maybe God was protecting me from something I couldn’t see. The ministry opportunity that fell through? Perhaps God had a different field for me to plow. Joseph’s journey teaches me that faith isn’t about understanding the route—it’s about trusting the Navigator.

There’s another layer of providence here that speaks to the spiritual warfare every man faces. Herod the Great ruled in Jerusalem, paranoid and murderous. If Jesus had been born in the capital city, in a palace or prominent house, Herod would have known immediately. The humble circumstances weren’t just fulfilling prophecy about the Messiah’s lowly birth—they were providing tactical cover. God hid His Son in plain sight, protected by obscurity.

Joseph would later need this lesson when angels warned him to flee to Egypt. The gifts of the Magi—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—suddenly make sense not just as worship offerings but as travel funds for refugees. God’s providence extends beyond getting us to the right place; it includes providing for the journey we don’t yet know we’ll need to take.

This is construction wisdom at its finest. A good builder doesn’t just plan for ideal conditions. He accounts for weather delays, supply chain issues, unexpected site conditions. He builds margin into the timeline and budget. God’s providence works the same way. What looks like random chaos often turns out to be divine preparation for challenges we can’t yet see.

The Challenge Before You

Brother, as I reflect on Joseph’s journey, I’m confronted by how far my own faith falls short of his example. It’s easy to read these stories like mythology, forgetting that Joseph was a real man with real fears, real bills to pay, real concerns about his pregnant wife. He wasn’t a superhero—he was a blue-collar worker who chose obedience over comfort, protection over reputation, faith over sight.

The question that haunts me, and I hope haunts you, is this: What is God calling me to do right now that I’m avoiding because it’s inconvenient, costly, or uncomfortable? Where am I negotiating with God instead of obeying? What vulnerable person in my life needs my protection more than I need my reputation?

Joseph’s legacy isn’t measured in words spoken or battles won. It’s measured in faithful steps taken on a dusty road to Bethlehem, in nights spent watching over a young mother and miraculous child, in choosing righteousness when vindication would have been easier. He shows us that godly masculinity isn’t about dominance or control—it’s about surrendered strength used in service of God’s purposes.

The journey to Bethlehem reminds us that God’s plans rarely align with our timelines. His purposes often disrupt our comfort. His providence works through apparent chaos. But for men willing to lead with silent strength, embrace costly obedience, and trust divine providence, He accomplishes the impossible.

So here’s my challenge to you, and to myself: Stop waiting for perfect conditions to obey God. Stop expecting the path of faith to be convenient. Stop measuring success by comfort and stability. Instead, ask God for the courage to lead like Joseph—quietly, sacrificially, faithfully. Ask Him to show you who needs your protection, what journey He’s calling you to take, what costly obedience He’s requiring of you today.

If this resonates with you, if Joseph’s example has challenged your comfortable Christianity like it’s challenged mine, then let’s walk this road together. Subscribe to our newsletter for more biblical truth aimed straight at the hearts of men. Leave a comment sharing your own journey of costly obedience—sometimes knowing we’re not alone makes all the difference. Or reach out to me directly if you need a brother to talk through what God might be calling you to do.

The road to Bethlehem was never about the destination. It was about who Joseph became along the way—a man who could be trusted with the sacred because he was faithful with the mundane. That same transformation is available to us if we’re willing to take the first step.

Remember, brother: Your Bethlehem journey might start tomorrow. Will you be ready?

Call to Action

If this study encouraged you, don’t just scroll on. Subscribe for more bible studies, share a comment about what God is teaching you, or reach out and tell me what you’re reflecting on today. Let’s grow in faith together.

D. Bryan King

Sources

• Matthew 1:18-25 – Joseph’s Righteousness
• Luke 2:1-7 – The Journey to Bethlehem
• The Roads of Roman Palestine – Biblical Archaeology Society
• Social Aspects of the Roman Census System
• The Cultural Context of Matthew 1 – Tyndale Bulletin
• Joseph: The Forgotten Man of Christmas
• Honor and Shame in First-Century Palestine
• The Gospel of Matthew Overview – Bible Project
• Caesar Augustus and the Roman Census
• Travel in the Time of Jesus – Logos Bible Study
• Matthew Henry Commentary on Matthew 1
• The Obedience of Faith – John Piper
• The Providence of Christmas – R.C. Sproul

Disclaimer:

The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.

#adventDevotion #BethlehemJourneyLessons #biblicalCourage #biblicalExample #biblicalFatherhood #biblicalManhood #biblicalMasculinity #biblicalMentorship #biblicalTeaching #biblicalWisdom #ChristianHusband #ChristianLiving #ChristianMenLeadership #ChristianMenSStudy #ChristianResponsibility #ChristmasFaithStory #ChristmasStoryForMen #ChristmasTheology #costlyObedience #discipleship #divineProvidence #faithApplication #faithInChaos #faithJourney #faithUnderPressure #faithfulLeadership #followingGodThroughUncertainty #GodSProvidence #GodSSovereignty #GodSTiming #godlyLeadership #gospelTruth #JosephAndMaryStory #JosephCarpenterFaith #JosephJourneyToBethlehem #JosephSObedience #KingdomLeadership #masculineFaith #masculineSpirituality #menSBibleStudy #menSDevotional #menSFaithJourney #menSMinistry #menSSpiritualGrowth #nativityStoryMeaning #practicalChristianity #protectiveLeadership #radicalObedience #righteousMan #sacrificialLove #silentStrength #spiritualBattles #spiritualGrowthMen #spiritualLeadership #spiritualMaturity #spiritualStrength #spiritualWarfare #trustingGod #trustingGodSPlan

Molinism

This is named after the 16th century Spanish Jesuit theologian Luis de Molina. It’s the thesis that God has middle knowledge, or scientia Media: the knowledge of counterfactuals, particularly counterfactuals regarding human action. It looks to reconcile the apparent tension of Divine Providence & human free will.

Molinists, following Luis de Molina’s example, present God’s knowledge in a sequence of 3 logical moments. The 1st of God’s knowledge of necessary truths or natural Knowledge. The truths are independent of God’s will & are non-contingent. This knowledge includes the full range of logical possibilities.

The 2nd is God’s free Knowledge. This type of knowledge consists of contingent truths that are dependent on God’s will, or truths, that God brings about. Free Knowledge encompasses the future of what will happen.

In between God’s natural & free knowledge is His “middle knowledge” that contains the range of possible things that would happen given certain circumstances, by which God knows what His free creatures would do in any situation. These truths that don’t have to be true. But are true without God being the primary course of them.

Molinists use Matthew 11:23 to scripturally support their case. They claim that in this example, God knows what His free creatures would choose under hypothetical would choose under hypothetical circumstances. Namely that the Sodomites would’ve responded to Jesus’ miracles still have been in existence in Jesus’ day, given that hypothetical situation.

Matthew 11:23 has what’s commonly called a counterfactual of creaturely Freedom. However, counterfactuals are to be distinguished from foreknowledge. Middle knowledge is to be distinguished from God’s knowledge of counterfactuals.

Molinists say the logical ordering of events for creation would be as follows: 1) God’s natural knowledge of necessary truths. 2) God’s middle knowledge, including counterfactuals. Then the Creation of the World. 3) God’s free knowledge, the actual ontology of the world.

Ontology is a branch of metaphysics dealing with the nature of being. The placing of God’s middle knowledge between God’s knowledge of necessary truths & God’s creative decree is crucial.

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#16thCentury #Counterfactuals #CreaturelyFreedom #DivineProvidence #Foreknowledge #FreeKnowledge #FreeWill #Jesuit #Jesus #LuisDeMolina #Matthew1123 #MiddleKnowledge #Molinism #NaturalKnowledge #Ontology #ScientiaMedia #Sodom #Sodomites #Spanish

Quote of the day, 20 June: St. John of the Cross

Jesus be in your soul, my daughter in Christ.

The reason for my not having written during all this time is due more to my having been in such an out-of-the-way place, as is Segovia, than because of a lack of desire. My will to write remains ever the same, and I hope in God this will continue to be so. I have been sorry about your troubles.

I would desire that you not be so solicitous for the temporal things of the house because God will gradually forget you and you will come to a state of great spiritual and temporal need; for it is our anxiety that creates our needs.

Cast your care on the Lord, daughter, and he will sustain you [Ps. 55:22], for he who gives, and wants to give, the highest cannot fail to give the least. Be careful that you do not lack the desire to be poor and in want; for if you do, at that very hour devotion will fail you and you will gradually weaken in the practice of virtue.

If previously you desired poverty, now that you are superior, you ought to desire and love it much more. You ought to govern and provide the house with virtues and ardent desires for heaven rather than with worries and plans about temporal and earthly things. The Lord tells us not to be thinking about food or clothing or tomorrow [Mt. 6:31-34].

Saint John of the Cross

Letter 21 to Madre María de Jesús (excerpts)
Discalced Carmelite prioress of Córdoba
Madrid, 20 June 1590

John of the Cross, St. 1991, The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, Revised Edition, translated from the Spanish by Kavanaugh, K and Rodriguez, O with revisions and introductions by Kavanaugh, K, ICS Publications, Washington DC.

Featured image: Study of a Woman’s Head was painted in oil on wood, ca. 1780 by Jean-Baptiste Greuze (French, 1725–1805). Image credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (Public domain).

⬦ Reflection Question ⬦
How has God shown you His care and sustained you through His Divine Providence?
⬦ Join the conversation in the comments.

#DivineProvidence #monasticLife #poverty #spiritualDirection #StJohnOfTheCross #trust

Quote of the day, 1 February: Madame Acarie

In 1590, during a morning mass at Saint Gervais Church, Madame Acarie fell into ecstasy for several hours. As the phenomenon recurred frequently thereafter, she feared that it might be the work of a demon. Doctors prescribed bloodlettings that left her exhausted.

She met Benet Canfield during the summer of 1592. This Englishman, who had converted to Catholicism and become a Capuchin friar, was an eminent expert on Rhineland mysticism: “He removed her doubts and showed her that everything that happened within her was from God and the effects of grace.”

Until her death, she experienced ecstasies during which she felt as though she were “dying softly.” From 1593 onward, she suffered the torments of Christ’s Passion each week, yet without any visible wounds.

Father Coton writes on the subject: “She bore the stigmata on her body in such a way that at certain times—especially on Fridays, Saturdays, and Lenten days—she felt extreme pains in her feet, hands, side, and head, as if they had been pierced and she had been suspended.”

Madame Acarie was now continually united with Christ, carrying in her prayer a genuine passion for the salvation of sinners. Moreover, she experienced complete trust in God’s Providence, which guided her in everything she did. Her total surrender to God gave her the courage to face difficulties that might otherwise have seemed insurmountable.

Indeed, she entered the most trying period of her life: “A soul can never do well unless it throws itself, without reservation, into the arms of divine Providence, because then God seems bound by His promise to assist it.”

Olivier Rousseau, o.c.d.

Carmelite Online Retreat: Advent 2020, Week 3
“Mystic and Woman of Action: Faith in the Impossible”

Note: Blessed Mary of the Incarnation, better known in France as Madame Acarie, was born in Paris on 1 February 1566.

Translation from the French text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: The Madonna and Child appearing to Blessed Mary of the Incarnation is an oil on canvas painting attributed to Pierre Delestres, ca. 1750. It is part of the collection of artworks at the Discalced Carmelite monastery of Pontoise that depicts Madame Acarie.

#BlessedMaryOfTheIncarnation #DivineProvidence #ecstasy #JesusChrist #MadameAcarie #passion #saveSouls #stigmata #surrender #union

Quote of the day, 28 December: St. Thérèse

Saint Joseph gets up at once and taps lightly at the door of the little room where Mary is at rest.

SAINT JOSEPH

Mary, wake up, for the life of Jesus is in danger.

THE BLESSED VIRGIN, entering with little Jesus

Joseph, sleep in peace, no danger threatens the Divine Child. See how He is resting peacefully in my arms.

SAINT JOSEPH

Yes, in His sweet sleep, the King of the Heavens seems to be unaware of the message of one of His angels…. Still, He knows everything… O, Mary! Why doesn’t Jesus speak to you Himself? Why am I charged with delivering Heaven’s orders to the Mother of my God?…

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Don’t be afraid. Speak. You are God’s representative, the head of the family; tell me what the angel ordered you on behalf of the Lord. I am entirely ready to obey.

SAINT JOSEPH

He is ordering us to flee into Egypt, because Herod is determined to put the Child to death. We must leave within the hour; tomorrow may be too late…. (He looks at Mary with a sad expression.)

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

Don’t be troubled, Joseph. Since the day of the presentation of Jesus in the temple, I’ve been continually prepared to be put to the test, for the words of the holy elder Simeon pierced my soul with a sword of sorrow. Already his prophesy is coming true; Jesus is suffering persecution before He is even old enough to defend Himself. I know that if He willed it, a single word from His infant lips would suffice to wipe out all His enemies; however, He chooses to flee from a weak mortal, since He is the Prince of peace….

The Word made Child will not crush the half-broken reed, He will not extinguish a wick that is still burning. If He is rejected by those of His own heritage, that will not stop Him from giving His life for poor sinners who fail to recognize the time of His visit….. Let us leave without fear, let us go sanctify an infidel shore with the presence of the Savior.

SAINT JOSEPH

Alas, how it costs me to expose you to the weariness and danger of so long and difficult a journey. How happy I’d be if I were permitted to take all the pain on myself… But I must resign myself to seeing you soon deprived of everything. Here we have the necessities; in Egypt, we will be reduced to the most extreme poverty.

THE BLESSED VIRGIN

The poverty we’ll find in exile doesn’t frighten me, since we will always have the Treasure that makes up the wealth of Heaven. His Divine Providence, which feeds the little birds without forgetting a single one, will give us our daily bread.

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

The Flight into Egypt (RP 6), Act I, Scene 4

Note: The Flight into Egypt was written for performance at the evening recreation on the feast day of her sister Pauline—Mother Agnès of Jesus—21 January 1896.

of Lisieux, T 2008, The Plays of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux: “Pious Recreations”, translated from the French by Conroy S and Dwyer D J, ICS Publications, Washington, DC.

Featured image: Le Repos pendant la fuite en Égypte (Rest on the Flight into Egypt) is an oil on canvas painting executed in 1879 by Luc-Olivier Merson (French, 1846–1920). This artwork is an 1879 variant of Merson’s original painting, Le Repos en Égypte, which was exhibited in the Salon—the official art exhibition of the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris in May 1879. Image credit: Museum of Fine Arts, Boston / Wikimedia Commons (Public domain)

#BlessedVirginMary #DivineProvidence #Egypt #HolyInnocents #migrants #persecution #poverty #PrinceOfPeace #StJoseph #StThérèseOfLisieux

Quote of the day, 20 November: St. Thérèse

Sunday, November 20, after dressing up according to Vatican regulations, i.e., in black with a lace mantilla as headpiece, and decorated with a large medal of Leo XIII, tied with a blue and white ribbon, we entered the Vatican through the Sovereign Pontiff’s chapel.

St. Therese of Lisieux

Even very young, the Servant of God said she would become a nun and consecrate herself to God, and nobody around her was surprised. She said she wanted to withdraw to the desert in order to belong to God alone. When our sister Pauline was admitted to the Carmel and the Servant of God heard what life inside was like, she realized it was in the Carmelite Order that her aspirations would be fulfilled.

You ask whether she prayed to God and sought counsel in order to resolve the problem of her vocation. I don’t think there was ever a problem of vocation for her. She never questioned whether or not she should consecrate herself to God. The answer was obvious to her. She wondered only how to reach her goal.

With regards to this, she sought counsel from Mother Agnes of Jesus, whom she would visit at the Carmel. The Jesuit priest Father Pichon, our family’s spiritual director, also encouraged her at this point. On Pentecost Sunday 1887, Thérèse shared her desire to become a Carmelite with our father. Marie, our eldest sister, had joined Pauline at the Carmel on 15th October 1886. With saintly faith and simplicity, our father gave her his consent, but our uncle and Thérèse’s legal guardian, Mr Guérin, was opposed to it. He said she should wait until she was a least 17. However he soon yielded, God having softened his heart in this matter.

There remained other difficulties to overcome: the ecclesiastical superior of the Carmel, Father Delatroëtte, refused to admit her because he considered her too young. Thérèse therefore had to appeal to the bishop. With this in view, she went to Bayeux with our father, but when she received only an evasive response, she decided that on her imminent trip to Rome, she would ask His Holiness Pope Leo XIII for the authorisation she sought [MsA 62r, ff]. She made this trip with our father and myself. The Holy Father did not give her a clear answer either [Papal audience, 20 November 1887] and referred the matter back to the Superiors of the Carmel and Providence.

Once back in France, Thérèse gave herself entirely over to the advice of her sister Pauline in the matter of her vocation [Cf. Ordinary Process, Witness 1, Sixteenth Question, 148r]. She wrote to his Lordship the Bishop of Bayeux, and on 28th December 1887, he replied and gave her the authorization she sought. However, desirous to appease the still protesting Superior, the Mother Prioress of the Carmel delayed her admittance until after Lent. It was therefore not until 9th April of the following year, 1888, that Thérèse stepped over the threshold to the cloister, accompanied by her father and the rest of her family.

Sr. Geneviève of St. Teresa, O.C.D.

(Celine Martin)
Apostolic Process, Witness 8
Response to Question 11

We always refer to the website of the Archives of the Carmel of Lisieux for the vast majority of our quotes concerning Saint Thérèse, Saint Zélie, and Saint Louis Martin. If you would like to purchase English translations for the collected works of St. Thérèse, please visit the website of our Discalced Carmelite friars at ICS Publications. 

Featured image: This portrait of Pope Leo XIII is a fumée engraving in black on tissue paper from the René Huyghe Collection at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC. American artist Charles M. Johnson created the engraving in 1899. Image credit: National Gallery of Art (Public domain)

#CarmelOfLisieux #CelineMartin #DivineProvidence #LeoXIII #papalAudience #pilgrimage #StThereseOfLisieux #testimony #vocations

Daniel Tyerman, Congregational missionary, speaks of repentance of Manasseh (2 Chronicles 33), and Zaccheus (Luke 19). Conversion will be SEEN. The holy life is not cruel.

Do some see “oppression” and “cruelty” are just the overstated claims of Philistines seeking to undermine our civilization and way of life?

How can you seek a holy life that is free from sardonicism against concepts like cruelty and oppression?

#christian #familyservices #divineprovidence #goodcause #godlycounsel