To say these last words to you.
During these last years, I have been a witness to the works of the love and mercy of our God. If he is so great in his works, what must he himself be like? If the rays of his mercy are so bright, what must he, the sun of justice, be like? If in faith one discerns his features, what will he be like in the vision that does not deceive? That is why, by plane or on the back of a donkey, I always sing: What joy when they said to me: let us go to the house of the Lord. Already my feet stand upon your threshold, Jerusalem. My Lord and my God, I want to say these last words to you:
Father Émilien Tardif
Let us go to the house of the Lord
My God, you search me and you know me; you know when I sit and when I stand; you read my thoughts; you know whether I set out on a journey or whether I lie down, and all my ways are familiar to you. Before a word is on my tongue, you, my God, already know it. You are behind me and before me, and you have laid your hand upon me. Where shall I go far from your spirit? Where could I flee from your face? If I rise up to the heavens, you are there. If I lie down in Sheol, here you are. If I take the wings of the dawn and go to the far ends of the sea, there too your hand leads me, your right hand holds me fast. Even if I say, “Let the darkness cover me, and let the night be light around me,” the darkness itself is not dark to you, and the night is bright as the day.
For it was you who formed my inmost being, you who knit me together in my mother’s womb; I give you thanks for so many wonders: you are a marvel, wonderful are your works. You knew my soul at its true worth; no bone of mine was unknown to you, when I was wrought in secret, woven in the depths of the earth. All my actions, your eyes saw them all; they were all written in your book. My days were recorded there, noted down before they came to be. How unfathomable, O God, are your thoughts, how countless they are. More numerous than the grains of sand, and when I have finished counting them, there still remains You!
Text taken from the book: Jesus made me a witness. Pages 174–175. Father Émilien Tardif and José H. Prado Flores. Éditions inter Enr., 1984