Even Suffering is Joyful to the Truly Humble

To the truly humble, even the breath of life given to dust is a miracle.

I do not believe that the great ascetics lived lives of suffering.

To the eyes of the world, their extreme renunciations—sleeping on rocks, fasting for days, retreating into desert caves—appear as unbearable torment. But the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing. What looks like agony to the flesh is, in truth, joy to the soul.

I believe the ascetics were so blessed by God, so filled with divine grace, that even the most basic existence was radiant with joy. Their lives, far from being miserable, were immersed in a kind of hidden paradise. The Blessed One of the Pillar spent thirty years atop a stone column—yet he remained there not because of despair, but because of delight. He had tasted the sweetness of the Lord. And nothing else compared.

To us, it seems like suffering.

But to them—even suffering was joy.

Why?

Because their hearts were crucified with Christ. Because they had emptied themselves of every worldly desire and were filled, moment by moment, with the fullness of the Spirit.

The world sees starvation; they received heavenly bread.

The world sees loneliness; they knew unceasing communion.

The world sees death; they were already alive in the Kingdom.

And perhaps this is the lesson:

That what we fear most—poverty, stillness, loss—may be the very door to joy.

That when we die to the world, we begin to live.