Oh, how I see the world racing on the road to perdition! Oh,
what tremendous pain, pain that is impossible to explain! To be
a mother, a mother who loves without reciprocated love, to see
humanity desert me and all my dear children die. They die in the
vices, in the pleasures, in the follies of sin. They are mad for
joy, and I mad with love for them, to save them!
The light I possess penetrates everything and everyone. The
light is not mine nor is it for me, but with it I see the
greatest disorders and miseries. This light sees everything that
happens on earth and I feel that the light itself wants to rebel
against the earth. Its rays cannot face the slime and disgusting
mud that earth contains.
The tower that arose in me reaches up, up; it goes to heaven. I
feel that goes very high, but it do not reach its goal. It goes
up and with it rises the light. From its pinnacle it sees the
world, enlightens the world, spreads its rays over it, rays that
try to climb to it because they cannot think of the world.
I want to say so much about this light, want to make myself
understood and do not know how.
And now, poor me, I am in complete and total abandonment; I have
nobody with me either on earth or in Heaven. It's what I feel,
but I trust that it is not reality.
For my great misery, misery without equal, I know well what I
deserve. For my part I have no enemies on earth, but those who
have offended me, though without thinking, which makes little
difference to those who are my friends and so dear to my heart.
Those who hurt me, I feel their contempt and neglect, but I do
not fear them. From them who have so cared for me, given me so
much affection and love which I will never repay here on earth,
I feel the same disdain, neglect and indifference. I do not know
to what to compare it with and adds fear, even a greater fear,
Without finding friends on earth, I look up to Heaven. I see it
closed. Knocking is unprofitable. There is nobody attending me;
my cries of distress are not heard.
If, until now, I was afraid of Jesus and fled increasingly at
his divine calling, so that I did not want to hear Him and
wanted to hide myself from Him, now, terrified yes, but I feel
compelled to come to his holy presence. But, oh, It is as if He
is ashamed of me. I have to stand before Him; my soul feels Him
and with its eyes sees Him before itself. But now He does not
have that call full of sweetness and love, like when I fled from
Him. Now He is the strict judge, not overturning sentences. I,
full of fear, cannot see Him, and He, as if He is ashamed of me,
puts his divine arm before his most holy Face, as to cover it
up. What horror!
I spend days in this feeling, this vision. I start to say: My
Jesus, if possible, alleviate this horror but, without finishing
the sentence, adding: My God, my God, your divine will!
It seems to me that I can expect nothing from Heaven or from
Yesterday, St. Joseph’s day, shortly after receiving my Jesus,
the darkness and the pain of my soul disappeared. I was not in
joy but with more light and comfort. What a great peace inside
me! Jesus told me:
- My daughter, to prove how much I love obedience and how much I
love my dear father St. Joseph, I give you respite from these
days of fighting the devil. But do you consent that after this
day it continues? I need so many of such days for the
pleasure-blind souls, entangled in the paths of perdition! ...
– You know, my Jesus, that I want all and accept all. What I
don’t want is to sin. Do with me what You will, as long as I
give You the love You desire and to save souls, all souls that
hurt your divine Heart.
– My daughter, your thirst is the thirst that I have of them.
You pant for Me like the deer for the running water. The more
you possess Me more desire you have to possess Me. The farther
you feel from Me the closer I am.
I shall hide Myself in a place where you can’t see Me or feel;
but then I am in you, I'm yours, yours more than ever. But this
requires a constant strength. I give you my place of suffering,
but not for long; after that, quickly, comes Heaven.
Courage, beloved daughter! Your life is similar to mine: it is
Christ portrayed in his beloved victim. Save souls for Me!
I wish so much that my dear father St. Joseph be known and
loved! That all husbands imitate him, that wives imitate my
Blessed Mother, that children imitate Me. I want all homes, all
homes to be like Nazareth.
Jesus was silent and shortly after I was swimming again in a sea
of the pain I have mentioned.
Today, while saying my prayers, overwhelmed by the sufferings of
body and soul, the demon came. He was desperate. He insulted me
horribly. He named several people who claimed they had sinned
with me along with him:
- You have not sinned because you haven’t wanted to; now you do
want to! It was not God who forbade me to come. Look, He has no
Heaven to give you. Heaven is in this world: the enjoyment and
During the fight, whenever I could, I cried to Heaven and when
the danger was greatest I repeated many times:
Pardon me, my Jesus, pardon, my love, I am your victim, I am
Your slave, but not to sin, my Jesus!
The storm calmed, but I was in a living hell; I saw in me all
the horrors people have there. And devil did as Jesus had done.
It seemed to me that he was sitting in my heart, leaning cozily
and satisfied. He said to me:
– I live here. It belongs to me. It's mine!
What horror, what tremendous horror! The demon as the lord of my
heart, soul and all my being. Jesus came and said:
- Go away from here, damn one! I am the lord of this heart, I
always have been, and always will be. I have always lived there
and will always continue to. She is mine on earth, and she is
mine in Heaven for eternity. She is my spouse, my victim, she is
a sacrificed lamb, she is my dear dove. Like me she is a
prisoner in the tabernacles, for love of me and for souls!
The demon fled in terror leaving no trace of hell on me.
Jesus transformed my soul: from the horrors of darkness I passed
to light, to softness. It was just time to relive a little
longer to be able to cope with the weight of the cross that I
see so often stand in front of me.
Blessed be, my Jesus, all that You give me; be in all my
strength and joy in suffering!