There is something of an "undescribed" serenity in knowing that when we walk in the narrower path where our Lord is unseen, he is there made manifest in the emptiness and dryness of our being. As St. John of the Cross describes it: It is at that point when God carries the one in anguish. For having abandoned itself to God -- completely -- it is owned back by God, propelled by his spirit, though it feels not its presence. It carries on, walks on, gives up not any of God's callings -- for it knows that only in God is.
May this song with a few lines on the The Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross bring you hope, as it does me.
A blog once called 'Mostly Prayers,' it grew with me; yet, in the process of seeking and being with God in intimate conversations with him, I see that prayer has become an intertwined layer of who God has shaped me to be. The wings of the soul have become more reliant, and the view from above wider and appealing to the eye. God is HE who makes it happen -- every single moment, in continuous prayer, with him, in real LIFE.