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December 4 Time does not pass, eternity doesn’t come. Jesus, why can’t I see any little ray of light yet, or find a moment of joy among my loved ones?
Most Holy Will of my God, I want you, I love you with all my
heart and with all my soul. I live as a fugitive, like a
My God, when will I see Thee and love Thee? That source in me from which sprang the longing to love and possess Thee has dried up in me. Everything disappears, everything dies, only pain remains. This occupies me all hours of the day and night. I don’t know how to love, I do not possess love. Pain yes, pain exists with all its strength and sharpness. Where did the life of my pain go? O my God, am I to be convinced of the death of my soul? There are hours where it lives yet I feel it being smashed a thousand and one times; the pain of the soul is more costly than that of the body. I have had strong temptations against faith: there is no Heaven, no Hell, no saints, no angels, and God does not exist. And if He does not exist, how can I fear Him? I am always striving to live in His divine presence and always hiding myself from Him. Not for one single moment do I want to separate myself from Him, yet I am always full of shame and confusion when He lays His divine eyes on me. My life is an illusion. I did not see Heaven, I did not see the Hell, I did not hear Jesus. These are times of frightening tribulations; it is the demon that makes me suggest all these things. My God, I believe in Thee and I confess myself to be the most miserable of all creatures, but I trust in Your mercy, Your forgiveness. I know there is a Heaven and a Hell, I have seen them, I have seen them, my Jesus, so many times. I trust in the hundreds and hundreds of times I have heard your tender, sweet voice. I believe, I believe, I trust in everything, my Jesus. These past two nights Jesus saved me from the violent attacks of the devil, and today I was strongly assaulted by him. With bared teeth, like a lion, he came down a mountain in the middle of dark woods, howling desperately. When he got near me, he opened his mouth to devour me. My soul panicked, it felt the panic even more than my body did. My body was unable to make any movement, nor could anyone move me; I thought I was on the threshold of eternity. The demon’s gestures were very ugly, as were as the names he called me and my partners in crime, as he referred to them. He stamped his legs on these people, snapped them by the head with his big mouth as if to engulf and devour them. Terrible tragedy! My heart beat so heavily that I almost lost my worn out life. I called on Jesus and the Heavenly Mother many, many times! But the demon, with his appalling voice, drowned out everything, telling me: - You sinned, you sinned, you are worn out because you sin. I was so discouraged! What a sad life! Sad for the fear of offending my Jesus. How awful! How awful! I only see mud and I’m mud, mud that everybody tramples on with disgust and annoyance; mud that no eyes want to see, paths that no one wants to walk on.
Jesus, I want to follow You, I want everything for love of You.
Receive my disgrace and my disappointment so that only You be
comforted, so that only You be loved! December 7 Great suffering, sad and painful. Oh, my Jesus, I cannot express how much I suffer, I do not understand this pain. I cry, always cry at the loss of my body, the death of my soul. At each step I feel myself to be like a bomb that will blow everything up. I shudder, terrified. They have prevented my flights, I'm like the little dove in the dark, unable to see, flapping wings in the air, unable to land, unable to rise, with wings on edge, fearful of falling awkwardly. Oh my God, what will become of me? See my suffering, have pity, have pity on one who trusts only in You. Early this morning I felt such pain, it was such that the disgust and shame caused me to see that all the people were being prepared, and that they expected new developments. I seemed to see groups here and there making comments. My God, you are waiting for me on Friday! What fear! All that I feel and see now was inflicted on Thee, my Jesus. They are your sufferings, yours, who suffered so much for my love. My eyes seem to penetrate the depths of all the people in the streets. My soul feels everything; on the side of a mountain the fig tree cursed by Jesus, about to enter a city. Below someone carries on his head a pitcher of water. There are meetings, talks, they prepare new developments. I saw everything, felt everything. Oh, how much I suffered in silence! The fig tree that I mentioned above, I realized that I had seen it when it was green and flowering, but today it is already dry, such as old wood for the fire. I did not think anything of it, on the contrary; when beginning to feel these feelings in my soul, I tried to distract myself and pretend that I felt nothing. My effort was useless; each time these feelings of the soul became more active. This effort of mine to avoid feeling anything is not fleeing the pain, nor the will of my Jesus, but fear of my confusion or deception. I am convinced that it is not. Our Lord, seeing such fear, and fear of making a mistake, could not let me be deceived. Nobody knows as well as he how I do not want to mislead anyone. The tricks of the accursed one continue to increase; it seems he that refines his wickedness. He tells me the worst possible things. Oh my God, such ugly things! He blasphemes against Our Lord, he accuses Him as if he was guilty and then makes out that I have said it all, or it seems to me that I have said it all, and then says that it really is me, and leaves me almost persuaded that it’s so. Only with the help of Our Lord can the soul and poor body withstand so much. The grieved heart makes a great din, because of the fear of sinning and saying so many things against my Jesus. In the last fight I was almost lifeless. I muttered: O my Jesus, O my dear Heavenly Mother! My God, how sad is my life! What will become of me? I could not move and needed relief. Jesus came and, with his most holy hands, put me in the position I wanted, covered me with caresses and like a mother who stays at the foot of the little child to help it sleep, told me: — Rest with Me. Your life is not sad, dear daughter, is a life of reparation and sacrifice. Rejoice with me, for the consolation that you give. You do not sin, no, my dear. Soon I felt peace in my soul. Very close to Jesus, I could fall asleep quickly, covered with His love, ablaze in His love. |
