I still feel two things at once: the loss of Jesus and the loss of
souls. The loss of Jesus makes me feel such horror and revolt that it cannot be
explained. I want to curse this loss and curse the earth. All the horrors of
hell seem to torment me. I feel that it was better to lose everything and
suffer everything than to lose Jesus. But His loss alone is enough to be the
greatest martyrdom of body and soul.
- My Jesus, to lose Thee...!
And on top of this great pain falls the weight of Your divine justice.
What torment and unique pain!
And the loss of souls! Oh, how much it costs!
My heart goes after them: what tenderness and love dispenses to them
...!
With its eyes the soul sees their flight.
What agony! No love held them, no words moved them, and no ears listened
to them. They hasten, hasten to destruction.
Oh, what pain is that of Jesus! And what pain is mine, feeling it! ...
I cannot allow souls to be lost.
This morning, with the coming of Jesus into my heart, new cravings, that
gave beginning of a new world inside my heart, rose in me.
It is a world building to be constructed. The anxieties are of purity
and love; the building is raised with it. What blazing flames, what intense fire!
This purity and this love are not mine, they do not belong to me, they
belong to the building, they belong to the world.
My God, what intense cravings! I wanted to talk to the whole world, I wanted
to speak only about love and purity; it was solely by means of these riches that
I wanted it to exist.
In the afternoon, I was in a great meeting, in some great ties of the closest
friendship.
In the morning I felt a new world of love.
At dusk, the great Supper of that Love.
It was a Love that received great ingratitude! With this ingratitude I saw
and felt the cross impressed in my heart; my heart was washed with the blood
that was pouring from it from moment to moment; at every breath came a fresh gush
of blood.
Doleful Thursday, so full of thorns! The pain took my life.
Then, at night, the devil came, evil as ever, attacking me, with his
teeth, shredding my body, renting my rosary into pieces and spiriting away the
statue of the heavenly Mother. These were only tricks: after the fight,
everything was still intact. How my heart pounded!
- Do you want to enjoy pleasure? Oh, how good is pleasure!
I can be calm. Oh, how you sin! ...
When he danced with satisfaction, he came to make the pleasure – that he
calls pleasure – the pain to which can be resisted only by a miracle of Jesus.
With great difficulty I called Jesus, called often to say to Him I did not want
to sin. Demons with very ugly faces said otherwise. Jesus came and, at His
divine voice, they fled. He called:
- Blessed Angel, soften the pain of my spouse, of my victim, of my
crucified one; take her to her place: she is a victim of purity, a victim of my
love, a victim of souls!
Quickly I regained my position without effort, without pain.
The dark clouds came quickly, doubts of having seriously offended Jesus.
Sentiments of the soul, 5 April 1945 - Friday
