The Sweet Wound of Divine Love — The Interior Castle

After the sixth-mansion trials, Teresa returns to the little dove, who now flies higher because suffering enlarged her capacity. She describes how the Spouse quickens love through delicate impulses the soul cannot explain, graces wholly unlike anything we manufacture or even unlike quiet consolation. Sometimes, without recollection, His Majesty arouses the spirit like lightning or thunder: the soul hears, trembles, receives a delicious wound, and hopes the hurt never heals. The Beloved is present yet hidden, and the pain is keen although sweet, a longing more delightful than untroubled quiet because the Bridegroom dwells in the seventh mansion while calling from afar.

Teresa compares God to a burning furnace whose small spark flies into the soul, bringing heat insufficient to consume yet delicious enough to linger in. The spark is intermittent, never permanent, leaving the heart longing for renewed pangs. Faculties wonder without impeding the favor. Teresa insists this movement is not melancholy, imagination, or devilry: Satan may give pleasure but cannot unite keen suffering with peace and joy.

The soul becomes resolute to suffer, withdraws from worldly pleasures, and recognizes the impulse as certainly as ears hear a loud voice. One such wound repays many trials. Teresa, often fearful of deception, was never alarmed here. Other means include sudden fragrant fervor during vocal prayer, disposing the soul to heroic praise without painful longing.