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Excerpted Inspirations #169
Excerpted Inspirations #168
Excerpted Inspirations #167
![[Lucilla Eliot has had an anxious night, fearing that her son George might die of appendicitis. Her oldest son, Hilary, who is a priest, comes to Lucilla early in the morning with the news that George is recovering. Hilary and Lucilla have recently been discussing the practice of offering one’s struggles and suffering as prayer.]
“… Hilary, I was very terrified last night.”
“One is, sometimes,” said Hilary. “But I’m sorry. I don’t like you to be terrified.”
“I had the most peculiar night,” said Lucilla. “Terrible at first, and I couldn’t pray, but I tried to do as you told me, and after that, round about midnight, everything was all right and I went to sleep. Do you think it was all a dream?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Hilary.
“Hilary!” ejaculated Lucilla in annoyance.
“Well, you haven’t given me much information as to how everything was all right,” said Hilary.
“But I can’t, Hilary. It’s impossible to describe what happened.”
“I expect it is,” said Hilary quietly.
“But visions are real, aren’t they?” asked Lucilla pathetically. “One doesn’t just make them up?”
“I don’t know a thing about visions,” said Hilary. “I never have them.”
“But you ought to, Hilary,” said Lucilla. “You’re such a good man.”
“I doubt it,” said Hilary. “Anyway, I don’t have visions. My approach is sacramental, not mystical. I’ve no imagination.”
“But did I imagine my vision?” asked Lucilla.
Women, thought Hilary, for he was abominably tired. He had not, like Lucilla, slept since midnight. But he tried to pull himself together. “I’ve no idea, Mother,” he said gently. “But does it matter? What matters is that you prayed, really prayed, perhaps more selflessly than you have done before, were comforted and slept.”
“But if only I could know that my heavenly comfort was heavenly comfort, and not just imagination,” said Lucilla despairingly. “Hilary, if only I could know!”
“Why couldn’t it be both?” asked Hilary. “If God has given you imagination, isn’t it very probable that He will speak to you through it? If you are starving, Mother, you give thanks for a good meal, and don’t enquire if it came from the attic or the basement. If your store-room is in the attic it came from both.”
“I see,” said Lucilla. “And I was starving.”
Elizabeth Goudge, The Heart of the Family (1953), pp. 311-312](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/6feacf_e6e5b5e70fef4c7abb9496e29848060f~mv2.jpg/v1/fill/w_980,h_1589,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/6feacf_e6e5b5e70fef4c7abb9496e29848060f~mv2.jpg)
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