Divine Inspirations: From My Soul to Yours

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by Tawnya Dawn

It was washing day, and I was busy at my work, when Mother Agnes of Jesus, then Prioress, called me aside and read me a letter from a young Seminarist, in which he said he had been inspired by St. Teresa to ask for a sister who would devote herself specially to his salvation, and to the salvation of his future flock. He promised always to remember this spiritual sister when saying Mass, and the choice fell upon me. Dear Mother, I cannot tell you how happy this made me. Such unlooked-for fulfillment of my desire awoke in my heart the joy of a child; it carried me back to those early days, when pleasures were so keen, that my heart seemed too small to contain them.

Years had passed since I had tasted a like happiness, so fresh, so unfamiliar, as if forgotten chords had been stirred within me.

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Fully aware of my obligations, I set to work, and strove to redouble my fervour. Now and again I wrote to my new brother. Undoubtedly, it is by prayer and sacrifice that we can help our missionaries, but sometimes, when it pleases Our Lord to unite two souls for His Glory, He permits them to communicate their thoughts, and thus inspire each other to love God more.

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Of course an express command from those in authority is needed for this, otherwise, it seems to me, that such a correspondence would do more harm than good, if not to the missionary, at least to the Carmelite, whose manner of life tends to continual introversion. This exchange of letters, though rare, would occupy her mind uselessly; instead of uniting her to God, she would perhaps fancy she was doing wonders, when in reality, under cover of zeal, she was doing nothing but producing needless distraction.

I shall never be able to correct myself of these lengthy digressions which must be so wearisome to you, dear Mother. Forgive me, should I offend again. Last year, at the end of May, it was your turn to give me my second brother, and when I represented that, having given all my merits to one future apostle, I feared they could not be given to another, you told me that obedience would double their value. I pray for all, not forgetting our Priests at home, whose ministry is quite as difficult as that of the missionary preaching to the heathen.

In a word, I wish to be a true daughter of the Church, like our holy Mother St. That is the one great aim of my life. But just as I should have had a special interest in my little brothers had they lived, and that, without neglecting the general interests of the Church, so now, I unite myself in a special way to the new brothers whom Jesus has given me. All that I possess is theirs also. God is too good to give by halves; He is so rich that He gives me all I ask for, even though I do not lose myself in lengthy enumerations. As I have two brothers and my little sisters, the novices, the days would be too short were I to ask in detail for the needs of each soul, and I fear I might forget something important.

Simple souls cannot understand complicated methods, and, as I am one of their number, Our Lord has inspired me with a very simple way of fulfilling my obligations. One day, after Holy Communion, He made me understand these words of the Canticles: When a soul has let herself be taken captive by the inebriating odour of Thy perfumes, she cannot run alone; as a natural consequence of her attraction towards Thee, the souls of all those she loves are drawn in her train. Just as a torrent carries into the depths of the sea all that it meets on its way, so, my Jesus, does the soul who plunges into the shoreless ocean of Thy Love bring with it all its treasures.

My treasures are the souls it has pleased thee to unite with mine; Thou hast confided them to me, and therefore I do not fear to use Thy own words, uttered by Thee on the last night that saw Thee still a traveller on this earth. I know not when my exile will have an end. Many a night I may yet sing Thy Mercies here below, but for me also will come the last night, and then I shall be able to say:. I have finished the work which Thou gavest me to do. I have manifested Thy name to the men whom Thou hast given me out of the world.

Thine they were, and to me Thou gavest them; and they have kept Thy word. Now they have known that all things which Thou hast given me are from Thee: I pray for them: I pray not for the world, but for them whom Thou hast given me, because they are Thine. And all mine are Thine, and Thine are mine; and I am glorified in them. And now I am no more in the world, and these are in the world, and I come to Thee.

Holy Father, keep them in Thy name, whom Thou hast given me, that they may be one, as we also are one. And now I come to Thee, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy filled in themselves. I do not ask that Thou take them away out of the world, but that Thou preserve them from evil. They are not of the world, as I also am not of the world. And not for them only do I pray, but for those also who through their word shall believe in me.

Father, I will that where I am they also whom Thou hast given me may be with me, that they may see my glory which Thou hast given me, because Thou hast loved me before the foundation of the world. And I have made known Thy name unto them, and will make it known, that the love wherewith Thou hast loved me may be in them and I in them. Yea, Lord, thus would I repeat Thy words, before losing myself in Thy loving embrace. Perhaps it is daring, but, for a long time, hast thou not allowed me to be daring with Thee?

My God, Thou knowest that I have ever desired to love Thee alone. It has been my only ambition. Thy love has gone before me, even from the days of my childhood. It has grown with my growth, and now it is an abyss whose depths I cannot fathom. Love attracts love; mine darts towards Thee, and would fain make the abyss brim over, but alas!

Thus alone can I find rest. O my Jesus, it seems to me that Thou couldst not have overwhelmed a soul with more love than Thou hast poured out on mine, and that is why I dare ask Thee to love those Thou hast given me, even as Thou lovest me. If, in Heaven, I find that thou lovest them more than Thou lovest me, I shall rejoice, for I acknowledge that their deserts are greater than mine, but now, I can conceive no love more vast than that with which Thou hast favoured me, without any merit on my part. Dear Mother, what I have just written amazes me.

I had no intention of writing it. I am not able to teach missionaries, and the words I wrote for them were from the prayer of Our Lord: How could I forget those souls they are to win by their sufferings and exhortations? But I have not told you all my thoughts on this passage of the Sacred Canticles: It was no doubt for this reason that, long before the birth of Our Lord, the Holy Spirit dictated these prophetic words: If iron and fire were endowed with reason, and the iron could say: Well, this is precisely my prayer.

I asked Jesus to draw me into the Fire of His love, and to unite me so closely to Himself that He may live and act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love consumes my heart, so much the more shall I say: Yes, they will run—we shall all run together, for souls that are on fire can never be at rest. They may indeed, like St. Mary Magdalen, sit at the feet of Jesus, listening to His sweet and burning words, but, though they seem to give Him nothing, they give much more than Martha, who busied herself about many things. Was it not from prayer that St.

John of the Cross, St. Teresa, and so many other friends of God drew that wonderful science which has enthralled the loftiest minds[? What he could not obtain because his request had only a material end, without reference to God, the Saints have obtained in all its fulness. With this lever they have raised the world—with this lever the Saints of the Church Militant still raise it, and will raise it to the end of time. Dear Mother, I have still to tell you what I understand by the sweet odour of the Beloved. As Our Lord is now in Heaven, I can only follow Him by the footprints He has left—footprints full of life, full of fragrance.

I have only to open the Holy Gospels and at once I breathe the perfume of Jesus, and then I know which way to run; and it is not to the first place, but to the last, that I hasten. I leave the Pharisee to go up, and full of confidence I repeat the humble prayer of the Publican. Above all I follow Magdalen, for the amazing, rather I should say, the loving audacity, that delights the Heart of Jesus, has cast its spell upon mine.

It is not because I have been preserved from mortal sin that I lift up my heart to God in trust and love. I feel that even had I on my conscience every crime one could commit, I should lose nothing of my confidence: Mary Magdalen, to the woman taken in adultery, and to the woman of Samaria.

And I know that all that multitude of sins would disappear in an instant, even as a drop of water cast into a flaming furnace. It is told in the Lives of the Fathers of the Desert how one of them converted a public sinner, whose evil deeds were the scandal of the whole country. This wicked woman, touched by grace, followed the Saint into the desert, there to perform rigorous penance. But on the first night of the journey, before even reaching the place of her retirement, the bonds that bound her to earth were broken by the vehemence of her loving sorrow.

The holy man, at the same instant, saw her soul borne by Angels to the Bosom of God.


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This is a striking example of what I want to say, but these things cannot be expressed. Dearest Mother, if weak and imperfect souls like mine felt what I feel, none would despair of reaching the summit of the Mountain of Love, since Jesus does not ask for great deeds, but only for gratitude and self-surrender. I know all the fowls of the air. If I were hungry, I would not tell thee, for the world is Mine, and the fulness thereof. Shall I eat the flesh of bullocks, or shall I drink the blood of goats? Offer to God the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. This is all Our Lord claims from us.

He has need of our love—He has no need of our works. The same God, Who declares that He has no need to tell us if He be hungry, did not disdain to beg a little water from the Samaritan woman. He was athirst, but when He said: He thirsted for love. And this thirst of Our Divine Lord was ever on the increase.

Amongst the disciples of the world, He meets with nothing but indifference and ingratitude, and alas! Happy are we who are privileged to understand the inmost secrets of Our Divine Spouse. If you, dear Mother, would but set down in writing all you know, what wonders could you not unfold! But, like Our Blessed Lady, you prefer to keep all these things in your heart.

As for me, in spite of all I have written, I have not as yet begun. I see so many beautiful horizons, such infinitely varied tints, that the palette of the Divine Painter will alone, after the darkness of this life, be able to supply me with the colours wherewith I may portray the wonders that my soul descries. Since, however, you have expressed a desire to penetrate into the hidden sanctuary of my heart, and to have in writing what was the most consoling dream of my life, I will end this story of my soul, by an act of obedience.

If you will allow me, it is to Jesus I will address myself, for in this way I shall speak more easily. You may find my expressions somewhat exaggerated, but I assure you there is no exaggeration in my heart—there all is calm and peace. O my Jesus, who can say how tenderly and gently Thou dost lead my soul! The storm had raged there ever since Easter, the glorious feast of Thy triumph, until, in the month of May, there shone through the darkness of my night one bright ray of grace.

My mind dwelt on mysterious dreams sent sometimes to Thy favoured ones, and I thought how such a consolation was not to be mine—that for me, it was night, always the dark night. And in the midst of the storm I fell asleep. The following day, May 10, just at dawn, I dreamt that I was walking in a gallery alone with Our Mother. Suddenly, without knowing how they had entered, I perceived three Carmelites, in mantles and long veils, and I knew that they came from Heaven.

An inexpressible joy took possession of me as she raised her veil, and then covered me with it. She caressed me tenderly, and seeing myself the object of such affection, I made bold to say: Will He not soon come to fetch me? Is He pleased with me? My heart was overflowing with gladness, and, remembering my Sisters, I was about to beseech some favour for them, when, alas! My happiness was too great for words. Many months have passed since I had this wonderful dream, and yet its memory is as fresh and delightful as ever.

I can still picture the loving smiles of this holy Carmelite and feel her fond caresses. On waking, I realised that Heaven does indeed exist, and that this Heaven is peopled with souls who cherish me as their child, and this impression still remains with me—all the sweeter, because, up to that time, I had but little devotion to the Venerable Mother Anne of Jesus. I had never sought her help, and but rarely heard her name. To be Thy Spouse, O my Jesus, to be a daughter of Carmel, and by my union with Thee to be the mother of souls, should not all this content me? And yet other vocations make themselves felt—I feel called to the Priesthood and to the Apostolate—I would be a Martyr, a Doctor of the Church.

I should like to accomplish the most heroic deeds—the spirit of the Crusader burns within me, and I long to die on the field of battle in defence of Holy Church. The vocation of a Priest! With what love would I give Thee to souls! And yet, while longing to be a Priest, I admire and envy the humility of St. Francis of Assisi, and am drawn to imitate him by refusing the sublime dignity of the Priesthood.

How reconcile these opposite tendencies? Like the Prophets and Doctors, I would be a light unto souls, I would travel to every land to preach Thy name, O my Beloved, and raise on heathen soil the glorious standard of Thy Cross. One mission alone would not satisfy my longings. I would spread the Gospel to the ends of the earth, even to the most distant isles. I would be a Missionary, not for a few years only, but, were it possible, from the beginning of the world till the consummation of time.

But this too is folly, since I do not sigh for one torment; I need them all to slake my thirst. I would be flayed like St. Bartholomew, plunged into boiling oil like St. John, or, like St. Ignatius of Antioch, ground by the teeth of wild beasts into a bread worthy of God. Cecilia I would offer my neck to the sword of the executioner, and like Joan of Arc I would murmur the name of Jesus at the stake.

My heart thrills at the thought of the frightful tortures Christians are to suffer at the time of Anti-Christ, and I long to undergo them all.

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To such folly as this what answer wilt Thou make? Is there on the face of this earth a soul more feeble than mine? And yet, precisely because I am feeble, it has delighted Thee to accede to my least and most child-like desires, and to-day it is Thy good pleasure to realise those other desires, more vast than the Universe.

These aspirations becoming a true martyrdom, I opened, one day, the Epistles of St. Paul to seek relief in my sufferings. My eyes fell on the 12th and 13th chapters of the First Epistle to the Corinthians. I read that all cannot become Apostles, Prophets, and Doctors; that the Church is composed of different members; that the eye cannot also be the hand. The answer was clear, but it did not fulfill my desires, or give to me the peace I sought. Without being discouraged I read on, and found comfort in this counsel: And I show unto you a yet more excellent way. At last I had found rest. Meditating on the mystical Body of Holy Church, I could not recognise myself among any of its members as described by St.

Paul, or was it not rather that I wished to recognise myself in all? Charity provided me with the key to my vocation. I understood that since the Church is a body composed of different members, the noblest and most important of all the organs would not be wanting.

I knew that the Church has a heart, that this heart burns with love, and that it is love alone which gives life to its members. I knew that if this love were extinguished, the Apostles would no longer preach the Gospel, and the Martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. I understood that love embraces all vocations, that it is all things, and that it reaches out through all the ages, and to the uttermost limits of the earth, because it is eternal.

Then, beside myself with joy, I cried out: My vocation is love! Thus I shall be all things: Why do I say I am beside myself with joy? This does not convey my thought. Rather is it peace which has become my portion—the calm peace of the sailor when he catches sight of the beacon which lights him to port. O luminous Beacon of Love! I know how to come even unto Thee, I have found the means of borrowing Thy Fires.

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I am but a weak and helpless child, yet it is my very weakness which makes me dare to offer myself, O Jesus, as victim to Thy Love. In olden days pure and spotless holocausts alone were acceptable to the Omnipotent God. Nor could His Justice be appeased, save by the most perfect sacrifices. But the law of fear has given place to the law of love, and Love has chosen me, a weak and imperfect creature, as its victim. Yea, for in order that Love may be fully satisfied, it must stoop even unto nothingness, and must transform that nothingness into fire. Child of light, as I am, I understood that my desires to be all things, and to embrace all vocations, were riches that might well make me unjust; so I set to work to use them for the making of friends.

Mindful of the prayer of Eliseus when he asked the Prophet Elias for his double spirit, I presented myself before the company of the Angels and Saints and addressed them thus: I know my mean estate, but I know that noble and generous hearts love to do good. All the glory that you help me to acquire, will be yours; only deign to hear my prayer, and obtain for me a double portion of the love of God.

I cannot measure the extent of my request, I should fear to be crushed by the very weight of its audacity. My only excuse is my claim to childhood, and that children do not grasp the full meaning of their words. Yet if a father or mother were on the throne and possessed vast treasures, they would not hesitate to grant the desires of those little ones, more dear to them than life itself. To give them pleasure they will stoop even unto folly. I ask not for riches or glory, not even the glory of Heaven—that belongs by right to my brothers the Angels and Saints, and my own glory shall be the radiance that streams from the queenly brow of my Mother, the Church.

Nay, I ask for Love. To love Thee, Jesus, is now my only desire. Great deeds are not for me; I cannot preach the Gospel or shed my blood. My brothers work in my stead, and I, a little child, stay close to the throne, and love Thee for all who are in the strife. But how shall I show my love, since love proves itself by deeds? The little child will strew flowers.

Yes, my Beloved, it is thus my short life shall be spent in Thy sight. The only way I have of proving my love is to strew flowers before Thee—that is to say, I will let no tiny sacrifice pass, no look, no word. I wish to profit by the smallest actions, and to do them for Love. Not one shall I find without scattering its petals before Thee. I will sing always, even if my roses must be gathered from amidst thorns; and the longer and sharper the thorns, the sweeter shall be my song.

But of what avail to thee, my Jesus, are my flowers and my songs? I know it well: Trifles they are, but Thou wilt smile on them. The Church Triumphant, stooping towards her child, will gather up these scattered rose leaves, and, placing them in Thy Divine Hands, there to acquire an infinite value, will shower them on the Church Suffering to extinguish its flames, and on the Church Militant to obtain its victory. O my Jesus, I love Thee! But is this pure love really in my heart? Are not my boundless desires but dreams—but foolishness? If this be so, I beseech Thee to enlighten me; Thou knowest I seek but the truth.

If my desires be rash, then deliver me from them, and from this most grievous of all martyrdoms. And yet I confess, if I reach not those heights to which my soul aspires, this very martyrdom, this foolishness, will have been sweeter to me than eternal bliss will be, unless by a miracle Thou shouldst take from me all memory of the hopes I entertained upon earth. If the mere desire of Thy Love awakens such delight, what will it be to possess it, to enjoy it for ever?

How can a soul so imperfect as mine aspire to the plenitude of Love? What is the key of this mystery? O my only Friend, why dost Thou not reserve these infinite longings to lofty souls, to the eagles that soar in the heights? I am but a poor little unfledged bird. Yet, notwithstanding my exceeding littleless, I dare to gaze upon the Divine Sun of Love, and I burn to dart upwards unto Him! I would fly, I would imitate the eagles; but all that I can do is to lift up my little wings—it is beyond my feeble power to soar.

What is to become of me? Must I die of sorrow because of my helplessness? I will not even grieve. With daring self-abandonment there will I remain until death, my gaze fixed upon that Divine Sun. Nothing shall affright me, nor wind nor rain. And should impenetrable clouds conceal the Orb of Love, and should I seem to believe that beyond this life there is darkness only, that would be the hour of perfect joy, the hour in which to push my confidence to its uttermost bounds.

I should not dare to detach my gaze, well knowing that beyond the dark clouds the sweet Sun still shines. But Thou knowest how often I forget this, my only care. Yet shouldst Thou still be deaf to the plaintive cries of Thy feeble creature, shouldst Thou still be veiled, then I am content to remain benumbed with cold, my wings bedraggled, and once more I rejoice in this well-deserved suffering. O Sun, my only Love, I am happy to feel myself so small, so frail in Thy sunshine, and I am in peace. I know that all the eagles of Thy Celestial Court have pity on me, they guard and defend me, they put to flight the vultures—the demons that fain would devour me.

I fear them not, these demons, I am not destined to be their prey, but the prey of the Divine Eagle. Listen to my supplicating pleas and grant me the special grace that I ask of you in this prayer, if it be convenient for the glory of God and the good of my soul, or that your divine will be fulfilled. The devotion to Our Lady of Solitude spread throughout all of Europe during the 15th century, thanks in large part to the Order of the Servites, known for their devotion to Our Lady of Dolors.

From an ancient homily on Holy Saturday The Lord descends into hell. Something strange is happening - there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began.

God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear. He has gone to search for our first parents, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, He has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, He who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the Cross, the weapon that had won Him the victory.

At the sight of Him, Adam, the first man He had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by My own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping, to arise.

I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the life of the dead. Rise up, work of my hands, you who were created in my image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated.

For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. And therefore the religious that doesn't intend to reach the perfection neglects the principal duty of the really state. I votes religious solemn they are so binding that, in exceptional cases, only the Saint Father can distribute from them.

Sono votes less binding; from the perpetual ones and from the annual dispensation the Saint Center. Qual the difference between the vote and the virtue? Che force they impose the religious votes? The vote of poverty is a voluntary renouncement to the right of ownership or to its use, for love of the Lord. Quali objects it concerns the vote of poverty?

Tutti the good and objects that belong to the Congregation. On what we have delivered, things or money, after their acceptance, some right is not had anymore. All the gratuities or the gifts that can be received sometimes to title of thankfulness or other, for right they belong to the Congregation. Every entrance for job or also the incomes, cannot be used without violating the vote. Quando broken or the vote is violated in what it concerns the seventh commandment? When without permission it is held back near of itself anything with the purpose to take possession of it.

When for negligence it is ruined or anything is spoiled. In the cases in which the vote of poverty is broken, the religious is equally kept to the restitution towards the Congregation. Quando sinned against the virtue of the poverty? Quando are desired things contrary to such virtue. When it sticks us to some object, when it is made use of superfluous things. Quanti much and which are the degrees of the poverty? In practises in the religious profession the degrees of the poverty they are four.

Don't have anything without depending on the superior hold subject of the vote. To slant gladly for the things more cowards and this with internal satisfaction as the cell, the attire, the food, etc. La lack against the virtue is a violation of the vote? Ogni lack against the virtue is contemporarily a violation of the vote, because there is not here difference between the vote and the virtue, as instead for the poverty and the obedience.

Ogni bad thought sins? Arrecano give too much the liberty of the senses, the liberty of the imagination and the liberty of the feelings, the familiarity and the friendships to the virtue to hold. Quali the systems to preserve the virtue? Vincere the internal temptations with the presence of God and besides fighting without fear. The external temptations instead, with to run away the occasions. Generally they are seven the principal methods.

The first one is the custody of the senses, then the escape of the occasions, to avoid the idleness, to promptly get further the temptations, to avoid any friendship especially those particular, to cultivate the spirit of mortification to reveal the temptations to the confessor. They are besides there five means to preserve the virtue: The vote of the obedience is superior to the first two, since it in reality constitutes a total offer, a holocaust, and it is the most necessary because it forms and it maintains in life the whole religious structure.

The vote of obedience makes the subject religious to the superior in virtue of the rule for the whole life and in all the matters. The religious commits serious sin against the vote, every time that doesn't obey to an order given in virtue of the obedience or the rule. La virtue of the obedience is necessary to the religious? La virtue of the obedience is so necessary to the religious that, even if it positively acted going against the obedience, its actions would become bad or without worth.

When from the disobedience it derives a spiritual or material damage to the Congregation. Quali lacks put in danger the vote? I and the antipathy toward the superior, the murmuring and the criticisms; the idleness and the carelessness. Prompt and total execution. Sant'Ignazio gives three methods that facilitate the obedience: To always see God in the superior, whoever he is.

To justify inside of itself the order or the opinion of the superior. To accept every order as if it came from the Lord without discussing and without thinking of us on. The mean then general is the humility. Nothing is difficult for the humble one. You see how much weak am. The love is able everything. At the beginning God it is made to know as holiness, justice, goodness, that is Mercy. The soul doesn't know all of this suddenly, but in single moments among the lightnings, that is in the meetings with God. And these don't last for a long time, since it would not bear that light. It absolutely becomes impossible to keep on praying as it did before having gotten that light.

This lightning of knowledge of God drags its soul and inflames him of love for Him. Nevertheless if the soul has faithfully responded and with decision to these first graces, God full the soul with Your consolations, she is given to in sensitive way. Nothing seems to her difficult, it is prepared to everything. And in reality this state doesn't last for a long time.

Other moments will come, but debbo to remember that the soul responds more faithfully to the grace of God, if it has an illuminated confessor and to which confides everything. Suddenly the soul loses the presence of God. They are manifested in it different errors and defects, with which it has to engage a tireless struggle. All the errors lift the head, but its vigilance is great. It is thrown by every part and it doesn't find satisfaction. It still sinks in a great restlessness.

Satan begins its work. Faith remains exposed to the fire. Here The battle is tireless. The soul completes efforts; it perseveres close to God with the appointment of the wish. Satan, with the permission of God, it is pushed even more before; the hope and the love are to the test. These temptations are awful! The soul is tried of incredulity I concern to the revealed truths, of insincerity in front of the confessor.

In his ears they play again words, from which it is terrorized and it seems to her to pronounce her against God. And it is an awful thing in that moments not to have an experienced confessor; it bears alone the whole weight. All these tests are heavy and difficult, and God doesn't send her to a soul that in precedence has not been admitted to a deeper relationship with Him and that has not tasted the sweetness of the Lord, and also in this God it has its unfathomable purposes for us.

But this is not the end of the test yet. There is still the test of the tests, that is the total rejection from God. When the soul goes out victorious from the preceding tests and, although perhaps stumbling, continuous to bravely fight, and with deep humility it shouts to the Lord: The soul sees only inside of itself sins.

What test is awful. It is defended as it is able; it tries to wake up again the trust, but the prayer is still for her a great torment: All the torments and the tortures of the world are void in comparison to the feeling in which it is completely absorbed, that is the rejection from God. Nobody can cause to her relief. Darkness give it falls even more in darkness sharp pains. Seem to her to have forever lost God that God that loved so much. This thought gives to her an indescribable torment; but it is not resigned to this.

It tries to look toward the sky but in vain this gives even more to her a great torment. They burst out from his heart painful moans, so painful, that any ecclesiastical confessor understands them, if himself has not passed there. Then the soul suffers still sufferings from the malignant spirit.

Will you continue to be faithful? However Satan has so much power on that soul, how much God allows him some. God knows how much we can withstand. To that sweep all these efforts? Be rejected from God! The supreme moment of the test comes now. And a moment this that I don't know how to define. And the agony of the soul. Or Jesus, give to us some experienced priests! Me however of this I didn't understand anything and a small ray of light didn't even penetrate in my soul. By now I start to feel the lack of the physical strengths and I don't succeed in facing my duties anymore.

I cannot hide the sufferings anymore, although doesn't even say a word on what I suffer; the pain nevertheless that it is reflected on my face it betrays me and the Superiora has told that the nuns go to her and they say that when in the chapel they look me they try compassion for me, since I have such a dreadful aspect. Nevertheless, despite the efforts, the soul is not able to hide such suffering.

Jesus, only You know how the soul groans in these torments, absorbed in the darkness; and nevertheless it is hungry and God's thirst, as the red hot lips are thirsty of water. Its efforts are not anything. It is in nanny of a powerful hand. Its soul now passes under the power of the Correct one. Rejected for the eternity. When the soul has been penetrated aside apart from that infernal fire, it almost falls in the desperation.

My soul experimented this moment when I was in the cell all alone. When the soul started to sink in the desperation, I felt that my agony was coming. I felt that my body was detached by the soul and, although I desired to go to the Superior, I didn't have the physical strengths anymore. I pronounced the last words: The agony of the soul. And it seemed to me that by now I would have remained in that state, since with my strengths I would not have been able to go out of it. The memory of the precedent love, that God had lavished her, is again for her a torment kind.

Your eyes the han pierced aside apart and all has been burnt in the soul by his look. It was a long moment until it entered the cell one of the nuns and it found to me almost dead. It was frightened and it went to the Teacher, that ordered to me to get up from earth in virtue of the holy obedience and instantly I felt the physical strengths and I rose from earth all trembling. The Teacher immediately knew in full the state of my soul. And it still told me: Me however I didn't understand anything of those words.

I heard the intangibility of my soul. I felt that I was a small baby. I internally saw all of a sudden the Lord, which told me: In that same moment all the darkness and the anguishes faded away, the senses were flooded by an indescribable joy the full faculties of the soul of light. I want to still remember that, although my soul was already under the rays of Your love, the traces of the past torture remained still for two days in my body. The pale face like that of one dead, the eyes injected of blood. Only Jesus knows what I have suffered.

In comparison to the reality, it is what I have written. I don't know whether to express to me. I try disgust for all of this that is created. I look at the things with different eyes. I am aware of what the Lord has done with a word in my soul; of this I live. To the solo memory of the past martyrdom, the shivers come me. And a completely spiritual suffering. Nevertheless in all these sufferings and battles I have never skipped the S.

When it seemed to me that I would not have had to be communicated, before the S. Comunione I went to the Teacher and I told her: It however it didn't allow me to skip the S. And true that the Lord himself has thrown to me out of that torture but the fidelity the obedience is liked He. Although these are dreadful things, nevertheless nessun'anima should excessively frighten him of it, since God doesn't give above tests of what we are able.

And of however it will ever allow perhaps on us similar torments. My relationships of familiarity are more with the sky that with the earth, although you don't neglect in anything my duties. In that moments I didn't have a spiritual manager and I didn't know any direction. I begged the Lord and a manager didn't give to me. I clearly see that only God could behave through so great dangers without any damage, without damage; for this my soul has been intact and I has always won. From all the difficulties, that have been unimaginable, it went out.

Nevertheless the Lord gave to me a spiritual manager, but later.

Positive Representation Matters

After those sufferings the soul is of a great transparency of spirit and in a great proximity with God, although still has to remember that in that spiritual torments it is near to God, but it is blind. It not only affirms that God has abandoned her, but that it is object of Your hate. Here work the divine omnipotence and an extraordinary grace, because otherwise it would be broken to the first bump. Or Divine Teacher, this is only Your work in my soul. These are Your incomprehensible mysteries. When during that tortures of the soul I tried to accuse me in the holy confession of the smallest trifles, that priest was marveled that I didn't commit more serious lacks and qu told me.

Strange however that the confessors have not been able neither to understand me, neither to calm down in those things up to the meeting with P. Andrasz and subsequently with Don Sopocko. I will remember only what I have experimented and lived in my soul. There are three things for which the soul doesn't draw profit from the confession in that exceptional moments. This wonder of his already puts in alarm a delicate soul: How is it able a soul in such state to draw calm in the confessional one, since is it so sensitive to every word of the priest?

This is a thing of great importance, since me same I have done the experience of it, that is that I already started to stagger, despite these extraordinary you give of God. And although same God reassured me, nevertheless I always desired to have the seal of the Church. The second thing is the fact that the confessor doesn't allow to sincerely disclose everything, that shows impatience. And for this motive the test is not appropriate. I have had some tests, that have made me laugh. I will express better the same concept with these words: I speak for experience, since in certain cases even the Lord himself has held back me.

The third thing is this: There is not anything small in the spiritual life. A small thing in appearance sometimes makes to discover a thing of great importance, and for the confessor it is a bundle of light for the knowledge of a soul. A lot of spiritual tones are hidden in the small things. A magnificent building won't rise, never if we throw away the small bricks. Illuminated by the light that it comes from the tall one it knows better what God likes it, and what doesn't like. The sin is second the knowledge and the light of the soul; the same also the imperfections, although it knows that what tightly concerns the sacrament it is the sin The patience and the meekness of the confessor open the street to the deepest secret of a soul: And it feels stronger and more resistant.

I will still remember a thing as the confessor regards. He sometimes has to experiment, it has to try, it has to practice, it has to know if it has to whether to make with some straw, or with some iron, or with some pure gold. The confessor necessarily has to form him a clear opinion on each, so that knows what can bear in determined moments, circumstances and cases.

As it regards me, subsequently, after a lot of experience, when I realized to not to be inclusive, I didn't disclose my soul anymore and I didn't break down the calm. This however it happened only when all these graces were under the judgment of a wise man educated and experienced confessor. I now know whether to behave me in certain cases. And I again desire to tell some words the soul that wants to decidedly extend to the holiness and to bring that is fruit advantage of the confession.

The before, total sincerity and opening. The more saint and the more essay of the confessors cannot infuse to long live strength in a soul what desires, if the soul is not sincere and open. The second word, the humility. A soul doesn't draw suitable advantages from the sacrament of the confession, if it is not humble. Haughtiness holds the soul in the darkness. The third word is the obedience. The confessor more expert cannot be of some help to such a soul. A disobedient soul is exposed to great bad lucks and won't progress at all in the perfection and if it won't get by in the spiritual life.

God full of grace in the most abundant way the souls but the souls obbedienti. It addresses verse of Him his nostalgic complaints. Its beauty is great, because it originates from God. It goes through the desert of the wounded life of divine love. It touches the earth with an alone foot.

The transparency of its soul is great. It, without need to reflect us in certain way, it knows better what in a datum moment it is necessary to do and whether to skip. It warns the smallest touch of the grace and it is very faithful to God. It recognizes far God from and it uninterruptedly enjoys of God. It in little time discovers God in the souls of the others, generally in how much they are around her. The soul is purified by same God. God as pure Spirit introduces the soul in a purely spiritual life. According to a spiritual way it has relationships of intimacy with the Lord in a loving rest.

He is turned to without the use of the senses. God riempie the soul with Your light. There is an union with the Lord superior and more perfect: Here the soul is more mended by the illusions; its spirituality is deeper and purer. In a life, in which there are the senses, it is more them exposed to the illusions.

The adroitness both of the soul same that should be great of the confessors. There are moments in which God introduces the soul in a purely spiritual state. The senses are extinguished and I are as died. The soul is united to God in the most narrow way: Its knowledge is total and perfect; not detailed, as before, but general and complete.

It rejoyces for this. But I now want to still speak of the moments of the test. In that moments it is necessary that the confessors have patience with such tried soul. Or my Jesus, You know that that test my soul to the memory of those sufferings. Sometimes me son marveled that the angels and the saints stay silent while a soul bears similar sufferings.

Nevertheless they love each other to them in particular way in that moments. Or my Jesus, for these tests of love both honor and glory to You. I remember this thing: And who answers for that soul? Let's be careful not to add sufferings to the others, since the Lord doesn't like this. If the nuns or the superior knew or they supposed that a certain soul is crossing such tests and, nevertheless, on their behalf they added her other sufferings, they would mortally sin and same God would vindicate that soul.

I don't speak here of cases that for them nature they constitute sin, but I speak of a thing that in another moment doesn't be sin. We are careful not to have those souls on the conscience. I don't speak of everybody, but there are people that are involved this way. We allow us to express judgments of every kind and we speak there where we would never have had to say what we have said.

The language is a small organ, but it provokes big things. But to be able to listen to the voice of God is necessary to have the quiet in the soul and to observe the silence: A lot of things can be said and not to interrupt the silence, and contrarily little parlar is been able and to continually break the silence. According to my thought and my experience, the rule of the silence should be to the first place.

God is not given to a talkative soul that as a drone in the beehive it hums a lot, but it doesn't produce honey. It doesn't have neither fundamental virtue, neither intimacy with God. A soul that has not tasted the sweetness of the internal quiet, is an uneasy spirit, and it upsets the calm of the others. I have seen a lot of souls in the infernal abysses not to have observed the silence. Them same have told me him, when I have asked theirs which had been the cause of their downfall.

They were consecrated souls. Or my God, what pain! Or Jesus, Mercy, trembles when I think that debbo to realize my language. In the language there is the life, but also the death. For the truth I don't succeed in understanding such consciences. I have known a person, that having known from another a certain thing that was said of Or my silent Jesus, have mercy of us.

However alone it is not able anything. It is not sheltered in a false peace, but it is fling in the struggle. It knows to be of a chivalrous progeny. Now account is made better of everything. It knows to be of regal stock: It enjoys of a hold union with God. It has a lot of sensitive and intellectual visions.

It feels a lot of supernatural words and sometimes of the precise orders. But despite these graces, it is not enough for herself. It now needs necessarily a spiritual manager. These difficulties often filled my soul of doubts and sometimes also I was frightened since I thought among me: However if the doubts increased, I looked for light near a confessor or near the Superior.

But I didn't get what I desired. When I opened to the Superior, one of them knew my soul and the street through which the Lord wants to conduct me. When I conformed to his indications I started to quickly progress on the street of the perfection. Unfortunately however the thing didn't last for a long time.

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It told me that it was not possible that God had relationships of such intimacy with a creature. But the confessor didn't understand me and said: And so I went from the Superior to the confessor and from the confessor to the Superior and I didn't find peace. These divine graces started to be for me a great suffering. I directly told sometimes the Lord: You are not a ghost by chance? Jesus always reassured me, but not I always trusted.

The strange thing was that more self I didn't trust, and more Jesuses it gave demonstration to be Him the craftsman of these things. For the outside I looked for, from good religious, to talk of everything to the Superior; but as it regards the necessity of the soul, of now in I will speak only then to confession. For many and a great deal reasonable motives I have understood that a woman is not suited to discern these mysteries.

So many sufferings are exposed to that would have been able to avoid. Then The Superiora had put certain shrewdness protected to you in my comparisons into effect. And all around the horizon was darkened me. Did I start to avoid those divine graces, but that I could do?

Dopotutto was not in my power. Suddenly I was taken by a so deep concentration that, despite my wish, I sank in God and the Lord it held back me near of Itself. One of the nuns came from me to speak to me in confidence. And it started to commiserate me. That soul was sincere and sincerely told me what had felt to say. But similar things dovetti to listen to her every day. Definite however to bear all in silence and not to give explanations when questions were turned to me.

Some nuns were irritated from my silence, especially the most curious; the others, more reflexive, they said: And I almost saw in front of me two ifies of judges. I worried about to have the inside and external silence. My mouth was closed. Soffril as a dove without complaining. Some nuns however they almost tried to like in to bother me in any way. My patience irritated her, but God gave to me so much internal strength, that I bore all of this with serenity.

I passionately desired a priest to tell me this only word: Unfortunately however such a definite priest, that told me those clear words in name of the Lord, didn't succeed to they find. Therefore I went on to the uncertainty. I pray you, Mr. But I have ascertained that really during that tribulation the Lord has been me how much never nearby. The truce however pochino has lasted. A violent again storm has bursted. Now the suspects of once, son become for them, it looks like, certainty and it is necessary to listen before again to the same music of.

This way the Lord likes it. The strange thing however it is that also different external matters han started to go for transverse. This has provoked a lot of varied sufferings, notes only to God. To every way I have looked for, as I have been able, to make every thing with the purest intention. I now realize to be guarded as a thief anywhere: I now know that, besides the presence of God, I have the continuous human presence, that puts sometimes frankly me in serious embarrassment. By the way, also my miserable bed has been checked quite a lot times.

I has sometimes felt like laughing, when son come to know that they didn't leave even the bed alone. A nun has told me herself, that every evening guarded me inside the cell, to see how I behaved. Nevertheless the Superior sons always the Superior. A gragnola of reproaches relieved on my head. When I arrived in my cell, I fell to the ground with the face in front of the crucifix and I looked at Jesus; I was not able not to even pronounce a word.

And nevertheless I hid the fact to the others and I pretended that nothing had not happened between us. Satan however it always takes advantage of these circumstances. They started to me to come thoughts of discouragement: And I again fell to the ground under that weight; I started to sweat and a certain fear started to appropriate of me. And suffered I heard a voice in the soul: Nevertheless I started to let a little bit me go. I didn't make case to those internal inspirations; I tried to become distracted.

However, despite the noise and the distractions, I saw what happened in my soul. I started to avoid the meeting of the Lord with my soul, because I didn't want to be victim of illusions. But the Lord in certain qual way you pursue me with Your gifts and in truth I have tried to turn sufferings and joys. During the whole time of the probazione I prayed because lights were granted to the priest, to which I had to disclose completely all of my soul.

And I begged God, because himself helped me in this and it did me the grace to be able to tell the most secret things that are among me and the Lord there and to become so available that, anything that priest decided, I would have considered her as decided by same Jesus. It doesn't care what judgment will give on me. I desire only the truth and a precise answer to certain my questions. I cannot keep on living in the doubt anymore, although in the soul has such a great certainty that these things originate from God, that I would give my life for them.

I see the datum moment what will decide my behavior for the whole life. I know that all will depend on it. Or Jesus, You can help me. And already from here I have started: Debbo anchors to remember that there are some confessors that help the soul and I are, for how much this can appear, of the true spiritual fathers, but until all of a sudden: Nevertheless if the soul is humble, it always has also some small advantage of it.

Same God sometimes sends a ray of light in the depth of the soul, for his humility and trust. The soul really believes that these are words of the Lord himself, although we have to believe that every word in confessional it originates from what I have remembered above, it is something that really directly comes from God. And the soul feels that the priest doesn't depend on himself: Here, in this way God compensates the faith.

I have experimented him quite a lot times on myself.

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