Devotion of Being with Mirelda
The House of New Bethany
Read the entire House of New Bethany series here.
Devotion of Being Beneath the Veil
Devotion of Being with Mirelda is a refulgent mode of dwelling that deepens fidelity to the Queen Beyond the Veil. It does not compete with devotion, but accentuates it—emerging as a quiet shimmer from the Deep Heart, orienting the soul toward the fullness that gives itself without announcement.
This devotion is not an object of piety but an alethic region within the Queen’s keeping: a gift of silent Being given in the world. It is received through a life shaped by listening, interpretation, and fidelity—through a rhythm of dwelling that allows Mirelda’s silent presence to order the soul from within. In this way, the Kingdom is not asserted but gathered, appearing as the Land Between Banner and Chalice, disclosed through Mirelda’s contrite and receptive abiding at the far shores.
To receive one’s relation to Mirelda as a vocation of renewal requires renunciation—not as negation of the world, but as release from possession. Her hidden dwelling in the mountain becomes the primordial ground of a sanctified culture: not triumphal, but repentant; not loud, but luminous.
The gift of Being that unfolds through Mirelda is alethic. Its mode is refulgence rather than force—an unconcealment that appears through time, interpretation, and faithful patience. This devotion does not replace established ways of knowing; it stands alongside them as a necessary complement, recalling the soul to Inceptual Thinking, where truth is received before it is named.
Devotion of Being with Mirelda is silent dwelling beneath the Queen’s mantle. The Land Between Banner and Chalice opens not as a possession, but as a horizon—disclosed through Mirelda’s figure at the far shores and gathered into the Deep Heart. It is received without objectification and interpreted within an ordered fidelity that guards without enclosing. Through Mirelda, the soul learns to dwell in silence at the center of what is given.
The Rule of the Converging Currents
“All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea doth not overflow; unto the place from where the rivers come, they return to flow again.”
Ecclesiastes 1:7 (Douay-Rheims)
Mirelda’s silent Being is like a river that fills without exhausting, drawing and returning in a gentle rhythm of gift and response. This movement does not rush; it gathers. Grace draws the soul forward only to return it again—each time deeper, nearer, more receptive.
The rule of this dwelling is simple:
a patient ebb and flow along Mirelda’s illuminated path through the pure night of grace.
Its mode is perpetual receiving and giving—an interior ascent not unlike the slow rise of the mountain path, where the heart becomes a hollow capable of holding what cannot be grasped. The inner grotto becomes a dwelling of layered rooms, where silence matures into love.
Hiddenness and the Diaspora of the Heart
“For there is nothing hid, which shall not be made manifest: neither was it made secret, but that it may come abroad.”
Mark 4:22 (Douay-Rheims)
What is hidden within the soul is not meant to remain buried, but to emerge in its proper hour. This emergence does not announce itself; it unfolds. Through docility and clarity of attention, what lies concealed is allowed to come forth—not as display, but as fruit.
The soul is gradually enshrined within converging fidelities, allowing what has been given to seal itself quietly around the heart. In this way, vocation appears not as ambition, but as recognition.
The Alabaster Light
Mirelda’s alabaster vessel signifies alethic light—a refulgence that arises from unconcealment rather than illumination imposed. This light opens a region of the Deep Heart where Inceptual Thinking takes form, guiding the soul through the night of faith without objectifying what it encounters.
The Land Between Banner and Chalice is not an idea discovered by effort, but a world disclosed through interpretation. It demands attentiveness, not construction. The gentle lamp-posts of Mirelda’s light guide the soul through the night—not forward by force, but onward by fidelity.
This light is born of abandonment.
It arises from choosing what is given rather than grasping for what is desired.
The essence of this light is hiddenness.
Hiddenness shaped the beginning.
Hiddenness sustained the Queen.
Hiddenness gathered Mirelda into silence.
Hiddenness prepared Caelia before her calling.
Hiddenness formed fidelity in quiet enclosures.
The alabaster light of the Land Between Banner and Chalice is therefore not brilliance, but humility—hiddenness held within love.
Bethany as Dwelling
Bethany is not a location, but a manner of dwelling—a place of friendship and rest, where nearness is not demanded but welcomed. It is a space free from clamor, where love may remain without defense.
This is the dwelling Mirelda’s light prepares: a house not of assertion, but of rest; not of spectacle, but of presence. It begins not in geography, but in fidelity—rooted in the life of grace, sustained by ordered devotion, and guarded by the Queen’s keeping.
The Divine Glance
The divine glance is an unreflective certainty—a knowing that cannot be objectified. It does not end in possession, but in pursuit. It seeks what remains hidden, and in seeking, is formed.
Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning?
You fled like the stag after wounding me;
I went out calling you, but you were gone.
~ The opening to the Spiritual Canticle of St. John of the Cross
In my bed by night I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and found him not. I will rise, and will go about the city: in the streets and the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, and I found him not. The watchmen who keep the city, found me: Have you seen him, whom my soul loveth? When I had a little passed by them, I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him: and I will not let him go, till I bring him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that bore me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up, nor awake my beloved, till she please.
~ Canticle of Canticles 3:1–5
This is Devotion of Being with Mirelda.
Not possession.
Not proclamation.
But dwelling—
where what gives itself is allowed to remain hidden,
and therefore truly known.
