It is in the stillness of our hearts and in the stillness of our minds, in a perfect presence to ourselves, that we rise up—not of ourselves, but through him to whom alone we say, ‘Raise us, Lord, that we may see’. This rise of ours is ‘offering’, achieved in understanding and in loving; we do not rise in any simple way outside our normal selves, but remaining within and yet increasing, growing, rise up upon ourselves to know and see, as yet however darkly, God present in our souls, from whom we have our all; our being, life and understanding; our own true actuality.

If, then, we recognize the tumult of the shifting nature of our thoughts, the milling crowds of our conflicting fantasies, by calming and by ordering these which hold us down we may proceed and may attain to that pure silence of the spirit, where in the rise upon itself of understanding we will see and know and feel, though fleetingly, the presence of him alone who is. ‘Be still and know that I am God.’