Australia -- Fiction; Autobiographical fiction; Bildungsromans; Melbourne (Vic.) -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
Weeks passed. Her feelings, in the beginning a mere blissful certainty
that God was Love and she was God's, ceased to be wholly passive. Thus,
her first satisfaction at her supposed election was soon ousted by
self-righteousness, did she contemplate her unremitting devotion. And
one night, when her own eloquence at prayer had brought the moisture to
her eyes--one night the inspiration fell. Throughout these weeks, she
had faithfully worshipped God without asking so much as a pin's head
from Him in return; she had given freely; all she had, had been His.
Now the time had surely come when she might claim to be rewarded. Now
it was for Him to show that He had appreciated her homage.--Oh, it was
so easy a thing for Him to help her, if He would ... if He only would!
Pressing her fingers to her eyeballs till the starry blindness was
effected that induces ecstasy, she prostrated herself before the
mercy-seat, not omitting, at this crisis, to conciliate the Almighty by
laying stress on her own exceeding unworthiness.
"Oh, dear Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me, miserable sinner! Oh, Christ,
I ask Thy humble pardon! For I have been weak, Lord, and have forgotten
to serve Thy Holy Name. My thoughts have erred and strayed like ...
like lost sheep. But loved Thee, Jesus, all the time, my heart seemed
full as it would hold ... no, I didn't mean to say that. But I was not
ever thus, nor prayed that Thou shouldst lead me on. But now, dear
Jesus, if Thou wilt only grant me my desire, I will never forget Thee
or be false to Thee again. I will love Thee and serve Thee, all the
days of my life, till death us do ... I mean, only let me pass my
examinations, Lord, and there is nothing I will not do for Thee in
return. Oh, dear Lord Jesus, Son of Mary, hear my prayer, and I will
worship Thee and adore Thee, and never forget Thee, and that Thou hast
died to save me! Grant me this my prayer, Lord, for Christ's sake,
Amen."
It came to this: Laura made a kind of pact with God, in which His aid
at the present juncture guaranteed her continued, unswerving allegiance.
The idea once lodged in her mind, she wrestled with Him night after
night, filling His ears with her petitions, and remaining on her knees
for such an immoderate length of time that her room-mates, who were
sleepy, openly expressed their impatience.
"Oh, draw it mild, Laura!" said the girl in the neighbouring bed, when
it began to seem as if the supplicant would never rise to her feet
again. "Leave something to ask Him to-morrow."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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