Alexandrina de Balasar



— 37 —



November 23

From within me comes a cry of deep distress and extreme agony. I am not heard. Many times, with hands raised to Heaven, I beg for help. My cries are worthless. There is nobody who can sympathize with my agony. Terrified, mad with pain, I feel as if I am on top of the highest mountain, unable to see anything because the darkness is so dense; yet I continue to cry. help, help!

1955 October 13

Where does relief come from if nothing exists, if everything on earth and in heaven is dead? My soul cries, cries incessantly with an unspeakable pain which cannot be explained. I looked to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and exclaimed:
O pain, O pain, you are not understood! But I do not care, my Jesus; it’s enough that it be understood by You, not for the reward You give me, but so that You can accept my suffering for the salvation of souls.

When I felt that my body could no longer suffer, and as I felt my soul very wounded by the great pain that makes me suffer, I burst out to my sister:

They should not have heart to make me suffer like this, suffering upon more suffering…

I was referring to the sufferings given to the soul over and above the great martyrdom of the body. My God, what am I saying? How can I speak about my soul as if it is already dead? How can I talk about my body as if it has already disappeared, without even its ashes remaining? Who speaks, Jesus? Who suffers? Who lives here?

You speak, You suffer, You live, You alone, my love.

Oh my God, I cannot think of this, cannot hold on to these feelings of misery. Hold them, Jesus, hold them for me.

The devil works diligently in a terrifying attack to persuade me that what I felt was true; he told me that they were a thousand devils in one alone, that that was how it was. He added some very ugly things.

— Do not try to be the victim of Jesus, surrender yourself to me willingly and with love. I do not make you suffer like Him, with me you will have only joy, joy forever.

Look how you sin.

I offered myself to Jesus as best I could and then he was more enraged against me. He swore he would never abandon me; but without my knowing how, he fled leaving me drenched in sweat and my body as if it had been dismembered.

The last attack ended almost at midnight. At half past eight we were praying as a family and from every side I heard desperate hissing. I knew it was infernal hissing. I was frightened. Shortly after the prayers ended, a dance of devils amid flames took shape before me. There were so many, like rain, they all danced, but only one spoke to me saying things most ugly and shameful.

During the hours of combat I know that everything is evil, all is horror. Later I know that I have forgotten things like the remembrance of God's presence and receiving Holy Communion which makes me fear that I have sinned. My God! And no priest to hear my confession.

The wiles of Satan made me change my position. A bath of sweat soaked my clothes. I could not remain like this yet I was unable to ask anyone to help me to another position.

Jesus and my Heavenly Mother, help me!

Jesus came and told me:

— Come here, my daughter, Satan hates you, but I love you. Satan persecutes you, and I come to your aid. I love you, you are my daughter, you're my spouse, you are my beloved. Do you know why he hates and persecutes you? Because of the souls you give Me.

Come, my beloved, come to rest.

I stayed in the customary position for a long time without being able to rest, but with much peace, closely united to Jesus and begging for things from the Heavenly Mother.

November 26

What is my life, Jesus? Is it yours or to whom does it belong? I cannot stand the pain that causes the death of my soul, yet I cannot be here without it: I do not understand, I cannot convince myself of this separation. This loss I feel causes me a maddening pain. Pitiful is my languishing! I circle the world through the darkness always crying: Help! Help! I see nothing, I do not meet anyone, I am not heard, it seems that only I exist here. So often I invoke the name of Jesus and of my beloved Heavenly Mother. So many times I want to raise my eyes to Heaven:

My God, I lack courage.

Jesus does not hear me.

And how can the Heavenly Mother hear me and meet me, tainted as I am? Can I dare to raise my eyes to the heavenly Homeland of their dwelling to get relief? Pitiful is my confusion!

Oh, my Jesus, my whole being is shattered. I don’t have courage, my Jesus. Alas! I cannot be in your divine presence, full of evils and sin as I am.


If once in a while some of the promises You give me suddenly pass through my mind they make for my greatest torment, and also for my greatest shame and confusion.

How, Jesus, how can You talk so to the most unworthy of your daughters, to this abyss of misery? I want to redouble my trust in You, I trust blindly. What I want is to love You. I trust that I love You without feeling love, without feeling that I have a heart to love You with. I believe, I believe, my Jesus! You unbind me from everything and from everyone. Let Thy divine will be done. I allow myself to feel the presence of the divine Holy Spirit.

All this causes me greater horror. All is gone, all has fled from me, even the creatures themselves. I want to withstand so much pain, and I faint, I cannot.

To give you greater comfort, O my Jesus, I want to suffer in silence, alone, without burdening you. I offer You the sacrifice of silence and suffering, I want to be indifferent to feeling whether or not I have given You the slightest consolation.

O my life, O my cross, I want you, I love you because I believe that in you is Jesus.

Jesus, Jesus, look at this pain, this poor being fighting, fighting alone in the world. Behold this heart which shouts and cries, see this pain that shatters worlds and worlds.

Today after receiving the Holy Communion I began immediately to unburden myself to Jesus.

See my agony, see my pain, look at this heart that so much wishes to love Thee, behold and have pity on me, my Jesus.

I said this to unburden myself, to relieve my languishing and not for an answer, nor did I think about it. First of all, my heart burned in fiery flames, it seemed to burn my entire chest, but soon Jesus began to talk to me sweetly:

— My daughter, your agony is my joy, your pain is my comfort, your tears are my smiles for the joy and reparation you give me.

Courage, dear daughter, fear nothing! Courage for all trials that come and are yet to come. You have your Jesus, what can you fear? You have grace, you have the strength to fight and win thousands and thousands of worlds. The victory is mine, only mine. The glory is mine, and of those who care for what is mine.

I received more strength, more courage in my soul. It only lasted a short while. Soon the same grief had returned. Thorns on all sides, rumors of storms, a feeling in my soul as if they would never end, longing to go to heaven and at the same time the fear of death. I do not know, but it seems to me that this fear of dying is the same that causes me to remember to live in God's presence. I think it must be an effect of the devil’s attacks. It seems suspicious to me that he leaves me two days and two nights in peace; it will be for a greater torment later.

Let all things be as Jesus wants: what I want is not to sin.


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