Alexandrina de Balasar

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BLESSED ALEXANDRINA WRITINGS

ó 39 ó

SENTIMENTS OF THE SOUL
1944

November 30

A day passes, a year passes, yet another passes and I continue in more and more sufferings. I do not know how anyone can suffer so, how one can sustain so much. I do not want to say, indeed I cannot say, that I suffer because it is not I who suffers, is Jesus suffering in me. My soul died, but it still feels pain; it feels torn, injured and destroyed. It died, it is not mine, I do not know where it went to. Even the ashes of my body disintegrated and disappeared, but even so it feels as if my heart is in a block of spikes, a sedeiro. The world crushes this block to such an extent that only the spikes remain. No heart, no blood or anything.

Oh my God, how dearly this separation of soul from the body costs! How dearly it costs not to have life and to feel pain! Everything flees from me, I do not feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, I donít feel any love for Jesus. From time to time I'm longing for his love; but it is only a craving, a love that is born to die soon. It is a fire that destroys, deadens, it shows no sign of being enkindled.

O pain that kills love! O pain, who do you belong to and for whom do you suffer?

Jesus, I'm on top of Calvary, nailed to the cross.

My fears and my cries donít cease. Poor me! But my cry is not heard, it is muffled by the whir of the wind, by the fury of the storms that never cease, it continues forever. It is muffled by the screams of humanity in revolt against me.

From the top of the cross I canít raise my eyes to You, my Jesus, I am ashamed and it seems me also that You have not heard me. The weight of humiliation smothers and crushes everything. I feel I've lost all the joy and comfort of earth. And from Heaven, my Jesus, I feel I also receive nothing. I want to trust, my Jesus, and I trust, but it seems to me that from my homeland I am unable to wait.

Yesterday when I received You, after asking You for many things, I wished also to ask You to relieve my pain; I remembered at the time, but I didnít ask. You who give me the pain cannot deprive me of the needed strength and grace. Comfort Yourself, then, Jesus, comfort Yourself forever.

O my God, forgive me for ranting. In dismay I came to ask my doctor if I could escape out of here, to go where nobody knew me.

My Jesus, I did not want to leave in order to escape the pain, as You know. I wanted to flee to be forgotten, not to be an embarrassment to souls, not to bring them to unrest, as someone said.

I do not ask for vengeance for those who make me suffer, I wish for all what I desire for myself: the greatest grace, the greatest love. These are not only words from my lips, they come from my heart and soul. I suffer from men, suffer from the devil.

What a violent fighting! He appeared to me at night in the figure of terrifying beasts that are unknown to me. He also appeared in the figure of a hideous serpent, mouth open, tongue out, crawling on the floor. He came up close to me, he was maybe two feet away. Alongside me very deep pits opened up, black, scary. Among them mouths of fire also opened, black flames rose to great heights. Among them were many demons tormenting souls, torturing them, which the evil one at the same time threatened to use on me. He claimed to reach me, but I think I can swear that he didnít reach: it was only his hellish wiles.
I say this now, but at the time of the struggle whatever he said seemed to be true. In obedience I wanted to expel him, I had permission from the confessor to do so. I remember it, yes, I remember it well, but I was not able to do it. It seemed me that he forced me to say:

ó I want to sin, I want to enjoy it.

Showing me the struggle of souls in hell, he told me:

ó It is to this that you are condemned; this is your place. Now you sin with this and with that person.

After some time, he named other people, always in the middle of foul language and outrageous swearing.

After the fight, when I could at last appeal to Heaven, to call on Jesus and my Heavenly Mother, to renew the offer of victimhood and to say "I do not want to sin, I do not want to sin," he danced, clapped and laughingly said:

ó You do not want to sin as long as you have sinned, and now that you are satisfied you rely on God.

Without paying him any attention I continued to repeat, "I do not want to sin!"

Jesus told me:

ó You donít sin, my daughter. Should I consent to be offended by a spouse of mine? Rejoice, you donít offend me, this is the reparation that I ask of you.

Hearing the voice of Jesus the demon disappeared and I was alone, very much at peace.

Today came new thorns to hurt me.

O my God, how much damage the storm which You made me feel has done! I saw it from afar, I saw everything. So much wickedness! But perhaps unwitting wickedness, unpremeditated.

My bitterness had reached the extreme: I wanted to breathe and could not. So much calumny, so much persecution, a continual humiliation. Facing the Sacred Heart of Jesus, I no longer saw because it was night, though, if not, maybe I didnít see because of the tears that danced in my eyes and slid down through my face. I cried, I cried, at the same time I offered them to Him, and told Him:

ó O my Jesus, I never, never wanted to deceive any creature, it never came to my mind to do good to please them or pass myself off as good. The temptation to deceive Thee, my Jesus Never occurred to me. I know that that would be impossible, but You know that I never imagined this; I do not want to pass myself off as what I am not. By Your grace I know my misery, I'm a sinner through my own fault, solely through my own fault, and by Your mercy I confess humbly that I am so. It never came to my mind to use You to cure my ills or those of my family, but to beg for your help and trust that You would always supply a remedy for everything.

Jesus, behold the agony of my soul. I am at peace because all that I say is true, as You know. It is to You that I shall give account and not to the world; the worldís sentence only serves to make me suffer, but not to condemn me.

If I could, my Jesus, if I could I would get out of my bed, spend the night on the ground, on the hard floor to do penance and beg Your divine grace for all who suffer because of me! If I suffered alone! It costs me so much to suffer for those who are so dear to me and to whom I owe so much for what they have done for me! It seems to me ungrateful, my Jesus. Give Your remedy for all this and have pity on my pain; I'm crazy with it, bathed in blood, shattered.

At these times of so much anguish, I can tell it, it's true: You conquer, your love conquers. By myself, I would not be able to do anything, I would despair.

All I could think of was to pray the Magnificat.

I have so much to thank the Lord for! His gifts are so great and so many! I take them for the sake of Jesus and offer them to Jesus.

Souls, souls must be saved. I want to give my Love this consolation.

 

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