1.
(Ávila, 1560)
1
Her spiritual state and manner of prayer

My present procedure in prayer is as follows: I am seldom able while in prayer to use my intellect in a discursive way, for my soul immediately begins to grow recollected; and it remains in quiet or rapture to the extent that I cannot make any use of the senses. This recollection reaches such a point that if it were not for hearing—and this hearing does not include understanding—none of the senses would be of any avail.

2. It often happens to me that this recollection and elevation of the spirit comes upon me so suddenly I cannot resist; and in a moment I receive the effects and benefits that it carries in its wake. This recollection occurs without my desiring to reflect on the things of God and while I am dealing with other things and thinking that even if I tried to practice prayer I wouldn’t be able to because of great dryness, intensified by bodily pains. It happens without my having a vision, or understanding anything, or knowing where I am. But while it seems to me that my soul is getting lost, I see what it gains, so that should I have desired to obtain these blessings myself in the course of a year I don’t think it would have been possible to have acquired them.

3. At other times I receive a very intense, consuming impulse for God that I cannot resist. It seems my life is coming to an end, and so this impulse makes me cry out and call to God; and it comes with great frenzy. Sometimes I’m unable to remain seated because of the vomitings from which I suffer;2 and this pain comes upon me without my seeking it. It is of such a kind that the soul would never want to be relieved of it as long as it lives. I have longings not to live this apparent life any more. I cannot find any remedy for these longings, since the cure for the desire to see God is death; and I cannot take this cure. Along with this, it seems to my soul that everyone has the greatest consolation except itself and that all find a cure for their trials except itself. This causes such affliction that if the Lord didn’t provide a remedy by means of a certain rapture, in which everything is made peaceful and the soul remains in deep quiet and satisfaction—now beholding something of what it desires, now understanding other things—it would be impossible to get free from that pain.

4. At other times, some desires to serve God come upon me with impulses so strong I don’t know how to exaggerate them, and there is also pain in seeing of what little use I am. It seems to me, then, that no trial, neither death, nor martyrdom, nor anything could be offered to me that I wouldn’t easily undergo. This, too, occurs without reflection; but in an instant it changes me completely, and I don’t know where I get so much strength. It seems to me I would want to cry out and make everyone understand what is gained by not being satisfied with a few things and how much good there is that God will give us if we dispose ourselves for it. I say these desires are of a kind that consume me, for I want what I am unable to procure. It seems to me this body and this state bind me, for they are no good at all for serving God. If I wasn’t so bound, I would do very noble deeds insofar as my strength would allow. But I feel such pain in seeing I have no power to serve Him that I cannot exaggerate it. I end up with delight and recollection and consolations from God.

5. At other times, when these anxious longings to serve Him come upon me, I feel I want to do penance; but I am unable. Penance would bring me great relief, and it does bring me relief and joy, although the penances amount to almost nothing on account of the weakness of my body; yet were these desires to remain, I think I would do too much.

6. Sometimes it gives me great pain to have to have dealings with others; it afflicts me so much that it causes me to weep profusely, because all my longing is to be alone. And even though sometimes I do not pray or read, solitude consoles me. Conversation, especially with relatives, seems to me burdensome. I feel as though I am among strangers, except when I am with those to whom I speak about prayer and the soul, for with these persons I am happy and consoled, although sometimes I have enough of them and do not want to see them but want to go where I can be alone; but this latter happens seldom, especially in the case of those to whom I manifest my conscience, for they are always a consolation to me.

7. At other times it gives me great pain to have to eat and sleep and to see that I more than anyone cannot give up these actions. I perform them to serve God, and so I offer them to Him. It seems to me that all time is short and that I don’t have enough for prayer, for I never tire of being alone. I always want to have time to read because I have been very fond of reading. I read very little, for in picking up a book I become recollected in my contentment, and so the time for reading passes in prayer. This time amounts to little, for I have many duties; and though they are good, they do not provide me with the satisfaction reading does. So I go about always wanting time, and the awareness that what I want and desire is not granted is that which, I think, makes everything insipid to me.

8. All these desires and those, too, for virtue were given me by our Lord after He gave me this quiet prayer with these raptures; and I found I was so improved that it seems to me I was previously a total loss. These raptures and visions leave in me the benefits I shall here describe. And I say that if I have anything good, it has come from these.

9. There has come upon me a very strong determination not to offend God, not even venially; for I would die a thousand deaths rather than offend Him knowingly. There is the determination not to omit anything I think is more perfect or will render greater service to our Lord when the one who has care for me and directs me says this is so; and even though I may perform such action reluctantly, I wouldn’t for any treasure fail to do it. And if I should do the contrary, I don’t think I would dare ask our Lord God for anything, or practice prayer, although in all these matters I commit many faults and imperfections.

I obey my confessor, although imperfectly. Yet, once I have understood that he wants something or has given me a command, insofar as I know I wouldn’t fail to carry it out; and were I to fail, I would think I was being very much mistaken.

I desire poverty, although imperfectly. Yet, I think that even were I to possess many treasures, I wouldn’t keep any special income or any money for myself alone, nor would this matter to me. I would only want to have what’s necessary. Still, I feel I’m very much lacking in this virtue. For although I don’t desire any money for myself, I should like to have it so as to give it away, though I don’t desire any income or anything for myself.

10. From almost all the visions I’ve experienced, I’ve received some benefit, except in those cases where there is deception from the devil. In this I submit to my confessors.

11. When I see something beautiful or rich, like water, fields, flowers, fragrances, music, and so on, it seems to me that I wouldn’t want to see or hear these things, so great is the difference between them and what I am accustomed to seeing; thus all desire for such things is taken from me. And as a result I have come to care so little for them that, save for the first stirrings, they make no impression on me and seem like dung.

12. If I speak or have dealings with some secular persons because matters can’t be otherwise, and even though the subject may concern prayer, I find that if the conversation is prolonged, just a diversion and unnecessary, I am forcing myself to continue, because such conversation is a severe hardship for me. Amusements that I used to like and things of the world, all annoy me; and I cannot look at them.

13. These desires for loving and serving God and seeing Him, which I mentioned that I have, are not fostered by reflections as they were previously when it seemed to me I was very devout and when I shed many tears. But they come with so excessive an enkindling and fervor that I repeat that if God did not cure me by means of some rapture, in which it seems to me my soul is satisfied, I think my life would soon come to an end.

14. I greatly love those who I see are more advanced and who are determined, detached, and courageous; and they are the ones with whom I would want to converse; it seems they help me. Persons who I see are timid, who I think proceed with great circumspection so that things can be done here below in conformity with reason are oppressive to me and make me cry to God and to His saints, who undertook those things that now frighten us. I feel this, not because I think I am worth anything but because I think God helps those who set out to do much for Him and that He never fails anyone who trusts in Him alone. I should like to find someone who would help me believe this, and not have to worry about what I must eat and wear, but be able to abandon that to God. It shouldn’t be thought that this abandonment to God in necessities means I don’t try to procure them, but I mean I don’t do so with a concern that makes me worry. Since He has given me this freedom, such abandonment does me good, and I strive to forget myself as much as I can. It doesn’t seem a year has yet passed since our Lord has given me this freedom.

15. Insofar as I know, glory to God, there is no reason for me to experience vainglory. For I observe clearly in these things God grants that I don’t do anything myself; rather, God gives me a feeling of my miseries. No matter how much thinking I might do, I would never be able to see all the truths I come to know in a moment.

16. For a few days now, it seems to me as if I am speaking of another person when I speak of these things. Before, I was ashamed sometimes that my experiences were known, but now I think I’m no better on account of so many favors but worse, since I profit so little from them. Indeed, I think there hasn’t been anyone worse than I in any part of the world. So it seems to me that the virtues of others have much more merit, that I don’t do anything but receive favors, and that God will give others all at once what He desires to give me here. I beseech Him not to want to pay me in this life, and so I believe that because I am weak and wretched the Lord has led me by this path.

17. While in prayer, and almost whenever I’m able to reflect a little, I’m unable to ask for rest or to desire it from God, even if I try. For I see that He didn’t live but with trials; and I beg Him to give me these, granting me first the grace to suffer them.

18. All these kinds of things that have to do with very sublime perfection it seems are impressed upon me in prayer, so much so that I am amazed to see so many truths and so clearly, for the things of the world appear to me to be nonsense. So I need to be careful by reflecting on what my attitude was previously toward the things of the world, for it seems to me that to grieve over its deaths and trials is foolish, at least if the sorrow or the love of relatives, friends, and so on, lasts a long while. I say that I proceed carefully, reflecting on what I was and what I used to feel.

19. If in some persons I see things that clearly seem to be sins, I cannot come to the conclusion they have offended God. And if I stop somewhat to consider them—which happens hardly or not at all—I never reach that conclusion, although I may have seen the things clearly. It seems to me the care I have about serving God is had by all. In this matter He has granted me a great favor, for I never pause to consider anything evil; because when I afterward recall it, and if I recall it, I always see another virtue in that person. Thus these things never distress me, unless in the case of something that is common, or of heresies which often cause me affliction. And almost as often as I think about them it seems to me that this trial alone is the one that must be felt. I also grieve if I see some persons who used to practice prayer turn back. This grieves me, but not a lot, since I strive not to pause to think about it.

20. I also find improvement in regard to my former vanities, but it is not complete; for I’m not always mortified in this regard, although sometimes, yes.

21. All of this I have said is what ordinarily takes place in my soul insofar as I can understand. I very habitually keep my mind fixed on God; and when I am dealing with other things, without desire on my part—as I say—I am made attentive by I don’t know who. I am not always made attentive but only when I’m dealing with some important matter; and this attentiveness to these matters lasts for only a short while and, glory to God, is not continuous.

22. It happens to me on some days—although not often, and the experience lasts about three, four, or five days—that it seems to me that all the good things, fervor, and visions have been taken away; and even taken from my memory, for I don’t know, although I may want to, what good there has been in me. Everything seems to have been a dream, at least I’m not able to remember anything. All my bodily ills together afflict me. My intellect disturbs me because I cannot think anything about God, nor do I know what state I’m in. If I read, I don’t understand. It seems to me I am full of faults, without any courage for virtue, and that that great courage I usually have dwindles to this: that I’d be unable to resist the least temptation or criticism from the world. It occurs to me then that I’m good for nothing, that no one could force me to do more than what is ordinary; I feel sad; I feel I’ve deceived all those who have given me some credit. I should like to hide some place where no one would see me; not solitude for virtue’s sake, but out of pusillanimity. It seems to me I’d want to quarrel with everyone who contradicts me. I carry about with me this battle, except that God grants me the favor of not offending Him more than I usually do. Nor do I ask Him to take away this state, but that if it is His will it might remain always, that He keep me in His hands that I might not offend Him; and I conform myself to Him with all my heart. I believe it is an extraordinary favor He grants me that I am not always in this condition.

23. One thing amazes me, that, while I’m in this state, with one word alone of those I’m accustomed to hearing, or one vision, or a little recollection that lasts for the space of a Hail Mary, or in approaching to receive Communion, my soul and body will become very quiet, and my intellect very sound and clear, and I will feel all the fortitude and desires I usually have. I have experienced for more than a half year that at least when I am receiving Communion I noticeably and clearly feel bodily health. Sometimes I feel this by means of raptures, which occasionally last more than three hours. At other times I am greatly improved throughout the whole day. In my opinion this is not a matter of fancy, because I have observed and taken note of it. As a result, when I have this recollection I don’t fear any illness. It is true that when I experience the prayer I did before, I do not feel this improvement.

24. All these things I mentioned make me believe these favors are from God. For since I know who I was, that I was walking on the road of perdition, it is certain that in a short while through these experiences my soul became amazed, not knowing where these virtues came from. I didn’t know myself; I saw they were something given and not gained through toil. I understand in all clarity and truthfulness, and know I am not deceived, that this has been a means by which God not only brought me to His service but freed me from hell. All of this my confessors to whom I’ve made my general confessions know.

25. Also, when I meet any person who knows something about me, I want to explain my life to him. For I think it is an honor to me that our Lord be praised, and I don’t care anything about the rest. He knows this well, or I am very blind; for there is no honor or life or glory of any good of body or soul that holds me back, nor would I want or desire my own gain, but only His glory. I cannot believe the devil sought out so many blessings to win my soul in order that he might afterward lead it astray, for I don’t consider him to be that stupid. Nor can I believe, though on account of my sins I deserve to be deceived, that God would fail to hear so many prayers offered up over a period of two years by so many good people—for I don’t do anything else but ask everyone for prayers—in order that He would either let me know if this is for His glory or lead me by another path. I don’t believe His divine Majesty would permit these experiences always to continue if they were not from Him.

26. Since I am so wretched, these things and the teachings of so many saints give me assurance when I have these fears about whether or not my experiences are from God. But if when I’m in prayer or on the days in which I am quiet and my thoughts are on God, all the learned men and saints in the world were to join together and torture me with all the torments imaginable, and I wanted to believe them, I wouldn’t be able to make myself believe that these things come from the devil; for I cannot. When they wanted to force me to believe that the devil was the cause, I feared, upon seeing who said this, and I thought they must be saying the truth and that I, being what I was, was being deceived. But at the first locution, or experience of recollection, or vision, all they had told me was blotted out; I couldn’t do anything but believe God was the cause.3

27. Although I can realize the devil could sometimes meddle—and this is so, as I have seen and said—the effects he causes are different. And whoever has experience will not be deceived, in my opinion. Still, I say that even were I to believe an experience is certainly from God, I wouldn’t do anything for any reason if it didn’t seem to the one who has the charge over me that it would be for the service of our Lord. I have never thought but that I should obey and not be silent about anything, because this is good for me.

28. I am ordinarily reprimanded for my faults, and in such a way that it touches me to the very core. And when there is or can be some danger in what I am dealing with, I receive counsels which are very profitable to me. Often my past sins are brought to memory and cause me much grief.

29. I have gone on at great length, but it is certainly true that in regard to the blessings I see in myself when I come out of prayer I have been brief. Afterward I find that I have many imperfections and that I’m useless and very wretched. Perhaps I don’t understand the good things, but am deceived; yet, the difference in my life is well-known and makes me reflect on what I have said. In all I’ve said, I’ve told what it seems to me I have truly experienced.

These are the perfect qualities I feel the Lord has wrought in me who am so wretched and imperfect. I submit everything to the judgment of Your Reverence since you know my entire soul.