March,1

I have no life, I have no blood, I have given everything, I have lost everything.

I have given everything and it seems to me that it was useless. I feel that it was all a great loss!

My God, it seems to me I do not exist; pain exists and it is mine. The world exists and needs pain.

My soul feels a hunger so great, but this is the hunger of the world, it is the world coming to feed on my pain, it is a world of beasts coming to devour as much of my suffering as they can. Nothing, nothing I suffer bears any comparison to what poor humanity needs.

Jesus, what suffering this is!

It seems to me that I am tearing my heart from my chest and breaking it into tiny little bits to give to the world, to give to souls. I wanted to pass my life begging hearts to be the nourishment, the salvation of sinners. I wanted to cry out loud, very loud, my voice echoing over all humanity:

O world, O ungrateful world, I'm yours, I give myself to you for Jesus and the dear Heavenly Mother!

It is for Them that I give you my blood, my life; it is for Them that I want you;  it is for Them that  I'm yours, it is for Them that I love you!

I love you in order to save you, I love you in order to deliver you to Jesus and to my beloved heavenly Mother!

Alas, I have nothing to give, I have no more to do! What horrors are in me, caused by the madness, the unbearable craving to love Jesus and save humanity!

On the night of 27, I had a vision of thorns that caused me great suffering and fear. It was a forest of thorns – in front of me only spines. It was a dense forest. The thorns rose to such height, that they ensnared each other and I could see no end to them. They were all very thick and long and hung as if they were all about to fall on me. I did not know the meaning of it, I understood nothing.

Since then I have felt that I am all wrapped up in them. My bed is thorns, the clothing that covers me is thorns, what I wear is thorns, I  am thorns. Everything is pain, everything is blood, pain that does not belong to me, blood that is not mine. I'm in the middle of this forest, which is itself blood, blood that blooms and gives life to all the thorns. And the same dewy rain of blood falls on them continuously.

What are these thorns that flourish so! My soul feels that from them will sprout a new rain of white buds.

Besides these thorns, I have received so many others sharpened by creatures from whom I least expected them. It has cost me so much to cover my tears! I wanted only Jesus to see them.

My God, oh, how much bitterness there is within me! I cannot have any support on this earth, I can expect nothing here. Alas, not even from those who are so dear to me; Jesus took for Himself the joy and comfort they could give! I feel ashamed before them, startled as if I had offended against them and practiced the greatest crimes.

The demon continues to charge at me like a horse without a bridle. He comes in a frenzy to insult me and to urge me to evil. I hear from the creatures things that I have never heard before, I learn things that I never knew about the world. I don’t know what I said, it seemed to me that I  said:

— You do not satisfy me, invite more demons to sin with me, I want pleasure, I want to enjoy it!

What horror, horror to have imagined that I said this and that the rosary and the statue of Heavenly Mother turned away from me, and that I spat at her feet. It seems always that the evil one gets whatever he wants from me and I offend my Jesus. At the peak of pain, I was somewhat freed from Satan and often repeated:

No, no, no, my Jesus, do not want to sin!

And this time, Jesus came to take me from the abyss I was hanging over.

— Yes, yes, my daughter, you do not want to sin, you want my divine love, and this I give you in the greatest abundance!

Yes, yes, yes, my daughter, you do not want sin, but the salvation of souls, and only with this reparation can they, who so grievously offend Me in this matter, can be saved!

I command you, my dear one, rest on your pillows.

A force, coming from I don’t know where, placed me on them. Tired from struggling and bathed in sweat, I was repeating:

Love, love, always love, my Jesus; souls, all souls!

I don’t know how the evil one can present himself with such ugly faces, such terrifying looks, and shaped as such a variety of animals. They approach  as if to swallow me, some bristling with spikes! Alas, what he does to try us, to get us damned! It is such a shame that people do not know all his arts and wiles!

Today, early in the morning, I felt in my soul, and heard the loud noise in my ears, of a great hammering opening my grave. It was so heavy!

What horror, it is Thursday! Death runs to me, the grave is ready. The weight of all humiliations falls on me, there is nothing but bad that is said against me. My soul already sees what will take the life from my body. My grave is a pit, an abyss. There is nothing in me of joy, the only thing that is beautiful and powerful to me is pain.

Lying on my bed, I could admire the greatness of the Creator. I saw the trees through the window, covered with flowers. What a marvel! The whiteness of them turned my soul into night. All the petals of the flowers were arrows being driven in my heart.

What to do, my God? Accept what comes from You. Your will, Lord! I'm going to die with my eyes fixed on Your cross.