January 22
My suffering! What is
happening in my soul, I do not know how to express it, but Jesus
does; he knows the extent of it. He knows that I am not lying,
that I do not live to deceive. Anyway, Jesus knows and only He
can ask me to account for it.
I feel I am a world of
sin, of decay. I feel I am a world of coldness and ingratitude.
I feel I am a world of forgetfulness and contempt for Jesus and
feel that I am a world of blood.
What pain it is for me
to feel that all I have done is nothing, and that I can do
nothing more for the world! But, my God, what have I done, if
all that I suffer and all that I do doesn’t belong to me? How
can I feel that I have done anything for the salvation of the
world? I did not give my life for it, even if I have offered
that life to Jesus.
What is this world of
blood that I feel I am? You know, O my God, and that's enough.
It seems to me that all mankind is bathed in it.
Oh, if I knew what I
could do to save it! And the poor little children of limbo? I do
not give up my petitions, my requests to Jesus to go there and
baptize them. Oh, if I could! If Jesus consented! I want to be
on my knees while the world is the world; of course, always with
the grace and power of Jesus, for obtaining from Him this grace
to baptize the little children.
It's unbearable, the
pain that causes me the memory that they remain a whole eternity
without loving Jesus, without seeing Him, without praising Him.
Alas, alas, my Jesus, it seems that I die with pity for them!
And the souls in hell!
... O my Jesus, it has no end! ... I do not know if I can make
myself understand this. My soul feels an unspeakable pain, not
exactly for the pain they suffer there, but because they are not
able to see God.
Oh, what black
suffering! It seems to me more than despair.
My Jesus, I do not know
what I say, I want to suffer everything, everything and remedy
all these evils.
O my love, O my love,
You, yes, You see, You believe in the sincerity of my words,
they don’t issue from my mouth only, they come from the depths
of my heart, from the midst of the greatest pain and agony of
soul.
Yes, my Jesus, You know
that it is not charlatanism, as some say that my life is. By
your grace and your mercy I never thought of that. Is there
something in me that is good and praiseworthy? I do not feel it,
I do not know it. But, if there is, it belongs to You, it is not
mine.
Oh, how many thorns hurt
this heart that no longer exists but to suffer!
It's from the heart that
I beg pardon for those who hurt me so cruelly. I am wounded by
those who have the least reason to hurt me, but that is also the
way I act with You, my Jesus. Forgive me.
My soul feels that many
of those who have hurt me now want to wash the slate clean, but
they cannot clean me up, I'm in filthy rags, even more soiled
than them. Oh, how hurt I am, but I’d rather suffer a million
times in innocence than be guilty once. I do not want to lose a
moment of my union with God.
I spent the night alert,
very alert and asked so many things of my Jesus! Again and again
I renewed my offer to be His victim. I thanked Him most for the
benefit He gave me of not sleeping so that I could make Him
better company, and talk more with Him alone; to live more His
life and unburden to Him.
Without my wanting them
to, many, many things came to my mind which made me suffer, and
I said:
Jesus, I have spent
weeks, months and years closed within these poor walls. They and
You are witnesses of my agony and tears. Have I done anything to
look good, to deserve praise or to deceive? By your great mercy
and grace I never have, my Jesus. I am your victim, You have me
prisoner here in this room, for love and for souls. I never
enjoyed the world or its false joys. My joy, my joy is your love
and the salvation of souls.
In this talk, united to
Jesus, I was assaulted by the devil. He used his wiles, his
malice, and said to me:
— Today
it is only with me that you sin, and in order to you sin with
more love, fondle me.
He said shameful things
I cannot repeat. He did not let me turn to Jesus; only when the
combat finished did I manage to do so. And then, a multitude of
angels surrounded my bed. Suddenly, I was in my position and the
demon retreated, happily, far from his claim that I had sinned.
The vision of angels,
the brightness of their light relieved me from my pain. They
were aggrieved at facing such a tragedy, but full of compassion
for me.
But the words of the
devil caused me such pain and left an impression so that it
really seemed to me that, when I called on Jesus, it was almost
too late and it would only be by his grace that I would not hurt
Him.
Many hours have passed,
and this fear, this pain, are still strong here in my heart. I
received my Jesus so filled with fear and with such pity and
fear of having sinned! Oh my God, what’s my life!
The night before this, I
fought long with the damned; I fought always over abysses, but
varied, some were frightening. Flames of almost black fire
surrounded me and made such a noise that it seemed to peel green
wood. The devil told me:
— This
is the inordinate pleasure, this is the most delicious pleasure.
Enjoy, enjoy me, it is so good to enjoy, etc.
I offered to Jesus my
sweats, my fear of sinning for those who fear nothing and suffer
nothing when they offend Jesus and see Him insulted. I feel that
my offer is worth nothing. The pain that causes me all this
torture takes the joy and consolation of all from me.
O my God, if I could
convince all souls about the suffering in hell! If I could make
them know what an offense against You is, the pain it causes to
Your loving Heart! I feel ashamed, my Jesus, at doing nothing
for You and not knowing how to speak about the pain I feel when
You are offended and for not loving You or making You loved. It
is the pure truth that leaves my lips and heart, isn´t it, my
Jesus? What a great grace that at least You know that I don’t
lie, do not deceive. For all this, give me love, love, and
souls, always souls. |