It is tempting to imagine the life of a mystic as one of constant ecstasy, floating above the mundane realities of human existence. The daily routine of St. Margaret shatters this illusion entirely. Her life in the Visitation convent was an exercise in humility, patience, and physical endurance, firmly grounded in the unglamorous reality of communal living.
Her spiritual life was undeniably intense. She spent long hours kneeling motionless before the Blessed Sacrament, completely absorbed in prayer. From her youth, she had felt a strong pull toward physical mortification, a common expression of piety in 17th-century France. She practiced fasting and self-denial, seeking to unite her physical body with the sufferings of Christ on the cross. At times, her desire for penance clashed with the moderate rule of the Visitation Order. Her superiors frequently had to step in and strictly limit her penances, testing her obedience. St. Margaret always prioritized this obedience over her own desire for sacrifice, recognizing that true humility meant submitting her will to her superiors.
But her greatest test didn't come from fasting or visions; it came from the other sisters. The Visitation sisters were good, devout women, but they were not mystics. To them, St. Margaret was an enigma, and often a highly frustrating one. Because her soul was constantly drawn into interior communion with God, she struggled immensely with the practical demands of convent life. When she was assigned to help in the infirmary or the kitchen, her clumsiness was legendary. She dropped things, forgot instructions, and seemed perpetually distracted. The jarring transition from divine ecstasy to sweeping floors was a constant struggle for her.
This apparent incompetence led to whispers and judgments. Some sisters thought she was faking her piety to avoid hard work. Others thought she was simply inept or suffering from delusions. She was frequently reprimanded, humiliated in front of the community, and treated with a mixture of pity and disdain. One famous biographical anecdote highlights her daily mortifications: she had a severe natural aversion to cheese, yet she forced herself to eat it when it was served, offering her nausea as a hidden sacrifice to God. It was in these small, unseen moments that her true sanctity was forged.
Imagine the psychological toll: here was a woman experiencing profound revelations of divine love, yet she could not convince her own sisters that she was anything more than a clumsy, eccentric nuisance. Yet, St. Margaret embraced this misunderstanding as a gift. She recognized that the Sacred Heart of Jesus had also been misunderstood, mocked, and rejected by His own people. Every time she swept a floor, every time she accepted a harsh word in silence, she was living out the reparation Jesus had asked of her.