Speak to Me

*Juliet Thompson, on pilgrimage in ‘Akká, wrote in her diary on 2 July 1909:*

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Later in the morning He sent for me. My self-consciousness, my shyness had made me feel shut out from Him, but my heart had been continually crying out, with ever-increasing love, to Him. When I entered His little room and knelt at His feet and looked up into eyes of Love which I suddenly found I could meet, He put out His hand and said, "Now; now!"

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I laid my head on His knee. The tears came. He lifted my face and wiped them away. "God shall wipe away all tears." Ah, this blessed Day!

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I cannot remember exactly what happened, only that Love immeasurable flowed out from Him and was reflected in my poor heart. One thing I do remember. When He lifted my face, while He was wiping away my tears, He said in a voice of infinite sweetness, like the sighing of the wind which "bloweth where it listeth and we know not whence it cometh or whither it goeth": "Speak. Speak to Me!" His words in English sink into your very soul. What I lose by not understanding Persian! "O my Lord, may my life speak to you!" I cried.

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