To abandon one's self is to count one's self as nought; and he who has perceived the difficulty, has already learned what that renunciation is which so revolts our nature.
Since you have felt the blow, it has fallen upon the sore spot; let the all-powerful hand of God work in you as He well knows how, to tear you from yourself.
Let. Took me years to let. So glad I finally learned, and still learning to "let."
Only God knows how to tear you from yourself and let Him be the Lord of your life. 🙏
Three letters that took years: let. The soul that gripped, controlled, managed — learning to open the hand. And still learning. Because the letting is not a one-time event. Only God knows how to do the tearing — because the self cannot tear itself from itself.
The hand that holds the stone in the air is the same hand that tears the self from the self. The soul's part — the part that took years — is one word: let. Murray's surrender. Scougal's shipwrecked man who stops swimming. Fénelon's clay that has nought to say. And Le: took me years. Still learning. So glad I finally learned.
The origin of our trouble is, that we love ourselves with a blind passion that amounts to idolatry.
If we love anything beyond, it is only for our own sakes.
Self-love that amounts to idolatry. The self on the throne that belongs to God. Scougal's first counterfeit. Fénelon's inversion of creation's order. The origin of all trouble: the self loved more than God.
We must be undeceived respecting generous friendships. The motive is nevertheless still selfish; the more delicate and concealed, the more dangerous.
We seek the pleasure of loving without recompense, and by so noble a sentiment, of raising ourselves above the weak and sordid.
We get that very return which we seem to despise.
For what is more delicious to a delicate self-love, than to hear itself applauded for not being self-love?
Fénelon goes where no other author in the journal has gone — into the self-love that disguises itself as generosity. The friendship that feeds pride. The noble sentiment that raises us above others while paying tribute to ego. And the most devastating line in the book: what is more delicious to self-love than to be applauded for not being self-love?
The French surgeon. No anesthesia. The self-love hiding inside the generosity. The pride nesting inside the humility. Only God's hand can reach this deep. Only His blade is sharp enough. And the soul's part — the part that took Le years — is to let Him cut.
✦ The Word That Took Years
Fénelon describes the disease. Le names the cure: let. Not fight. Not manage. Not analyze. Let. Let the all-powerful hand work. Let God tear you from yourself. The word is small. The learning took years. And the learning continues — because the self is patient, and the letting must be renewed every morning.
But Le adds: so glad I finally learned. The gladness is the proof of the genuineness. The soul that has truly let go — is glad. Not grieving the loss of control. Glad to be free. The bondage to self — broken. Not by Le's strength. By God's hand. Absolutely nothing came from me. 🙏
"Let. Took me years to let. Only God knows how to tear you from yourself."
Le · Caldas da Rainha · July 25, 2026 · Three letters — a lifetime of learningLet
Three letters that took years. The soul learning to open the hand. Still learning. The letting is a daily practice.
Self-Love as Idolatry
We love ourselves with a blind passion. If we love anything beyond, it is for our own sakes. The self on God's throne.
The Hidden Self-Love
Generous friendships that feed pride. What is more delicious to self-love than to be applauded for not being self-love?
Only God's Hand
Only God can tear you from yourself. The self cannot tear itself. His hand works as He knows how. The soul's part: let. And be glad.