Childlikeness.
Love is given as a gift from on high, a gift descending with the gentleness of dew. But this gift must be accepted with the un-self-consciousness, unpretentiousness, unencumbered joy of children - without guile, without calculation or negotiation. With utter amazement and untarnished wonder.

We are born with this openness, this sense of wonder. But the enemy knows that sin (first others' sins, and then our own) dull our sensitivity to this gift, this light. We slowly turn away from our true selves, restrain our natural wonder and awe, learn to weigh our giving and receiving, build walls around our inmost selves. It isn't long before most of us refuse to dance, hesitate to sing, dislike surprises. Sometimes we are so wounded that we hardly recognize ourselves any longer.

So many of us are broken, wounded, needy, unable to enjoy the NOW until the past is somehow addressed. We hurt one another in ways that can be difficult to undo. Sin disrupts the normal development of the human being - physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. If this growth is arrested or distorted, we cannot fully integrate all the many dynamisms within us and we are not whole or free - we are dis-integrated. We may become stuck in unhealthy patterns of behavior, emotionally or spiritually immature on many levels, or grasping in all the wrong directions for something to fill a real need that was never met (often a need for unconditional love, security, affirmation). Our past keeps rising to the surface to remind us that something is missing, something has not been adequately addressed, something has wounded us and the wound is festering.

And we may get caught in an ever-increasing tangle of negative behaviors and attitudes, layering webs of guilt, shame, anger and resentment on top of the wounds and making the "original sin" which initiated our separation from ourselves even more difficult to find. For some, it takes years of professional help to determine the cause of the destructive (or simply limiting) behaviors and attitudes. We live in knots.

But Christ came to unravel all our knots, illumine our darkness, free us from our bondage to sin. He came (indeed, He is always coming) to restore our innocence, our status as sons and daughters.

In Him, we can be children again, enjoying a spiritual childhood in which we are not afraid to lift up our hands and receive a gift, in which we trust completely that the Father will provide every good thing, in which we know that we are loved and protected. A secure childhood that does not doubt unconditional love, does not doubt that a Father will keep His promises, does not fear. In Him, we are free to be what we are, confident that we are on a secure path.

To find ourselves, know ourselves, be ourselves in any situation - this kind of sincerity and transparency is rare, which is why it is so disarming and so attractive. How seldom we look into the face of an adult and are surprised to find the open and innocent eyes of a child! Yet in these eyes, we see God.

We are made to be living temples, but God can only dwell within us if we have not closed the door in fear, if we have not enthroned idols (out of selfishness and pride) there, and if our foundations are firmly grounded in the humility of knowing our place in the universe. Because it is only pride that can make us, as it were, impervious to God's mercy and love - He can reach past anything but our own self-will, our self- assertion. Because we are free, and He will not trample our freedom.

So we can keep God out by closing ourselves off from Him. If we are eager for our own glory, we cannot glorify Him. If we are grasping for more for ourselves, we are not grateful for all He has given us. If we are determined to maintain control of our own destinies, we are not open to His will for us. If we are relying on our own resources, we are not surrendering to His action in our lives.

Sin (especially pride) closes us off from God, from love.
But sanctity is openness to Him, to others, to the suffering that requires, out of love.

We exist not for ourselves, but for Him; our desire should be to glorify Him by abandoning ourselves to His will (because He will glorify Himself through us, if we will allow Him to do so). And we willingly, eagerly, surrender to His will once we recognize our utter contingency, our nothingness without Him, and His great love for us in spite of us.

We have Mary as our model of surrender. Of course, she was able to do this because she was uniquely sensitive to the guidance and movement of the Holy Spirit, Who established within her clear soul a house of perfect prayer, where no obstacle could be found, no hesitation ever slowed the flow of grace or the increase in holiness, where every energy was stirred only for God's glory, backlit by the consciousness of her own nothingness and unworthiness. She never forgot her "creatureliness, " never asserted her rights or her perogative as Mother of the Son, never kept anything for herself.

She was always content with her poverty, always recognized her unworthiness, even as she praised God's favors to her (which are many, and great) and extolled His greatness alone. She never forgets that she is one of the redeemed, that the Redemption (in which she plays such an important role) is the price of these great favors. She lives and breathes gratitude and trust and love. Her whole life said, "I am the handmaid of the Lord. The Lord has done great things for me, and holy is HIS Name."

It is not God's great favors to her that makes her our perfect model - it is her constant fidelity to grace (which increased in her every virtue). Perfect cooperation with the action of the Holy Spirit within her, leading her to total self-extinction with her Son, completely immolated for our salvation.