| p100 | Love: The saints you think you see are not seen by God. In fact, they are not seeable at all. What you love in them is not their personality or their deeds—it is Me moving freely through what once blocked Me. You read about their lives, their choices, their sacrifices, and you feel drawn to the fragrance of sanctity that surrounded them. That fragrance is not theirs. It is Mine. The moment you try to imitate them, you create a copy of a copy, and the essence slips away. |