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July 21st, 1903. Necessity of purification after spending one day being dozy and so sleepy that I could not understand myself. Having received communion, I felt I was going outside of myself, but I could not find my highest and only good. So I began to go round and round in a delirium. While doing this, I thought there was someone in my arms, completely veiled in such a way that I could not see who he was. So unable to refrain any longer, I tore that veil, and I saw my longed-for all. On seeing him, I felt I wanted to burst into complaints and nonsense. But in order to break my impatience and my delirium, Jesus gave me a kiss. That kiss infused in me life, calm, and broke my impatience so much so that I was unable to say anything anymore. Then, forgetting all my miseries (and I have many), I remembered the poor people and I said to Jesus, "Placate yourself, spare so many people's torments so cruel. Let us go together where such things are happening, that we may comfort and console those poor Christians who are in such a sad state." And he, "My daughter, I do not want to take you, for your heart would not bear seeing such a harrowing slaughter." And I, "Oh Lord, how is it that you have permitted this?" And he, "It is necessary, absolutely, for the sake of predation in every place. Because in the field sowed by me, weeds and thorns have grown so much as to become trees, and these thorny trees do nothing but inundate my field with poisonous and pestilent waters to the point that if some ear of grain remains intact, it recedes nothing but punctures and stench. So much so that it is impossible for more ears to germinate, first because they lack the ground which is occupied by so many noxious plants, second because of the continuous punctures they receive which give them no peace. So behold the necessity of the slaughter to root out so many bad plants and of shedding of blood to purge my field of those poisonous and pestilent waters. Therefore, do not want to grow sad at this beginning, because not only where I have sent chastisements, but in all other places is purgation needed. Who can say the consternation of my heart!" And hearing the speaking of Jesus, so again I insisted that I wanted to go see. But Jesus, not listening to me, disappeared. Left alone, I took my way to go there, but I found now an angel who would make me go back, and now purging souls, to the point that I was forced to return into myself.
July 21st, 1906. Volume 7. The upright intention purges the action. Having come for little, blessed Jesus told me, "My daughter, all human actions, even holy, done without a special intention for me, come out of the soul full of darkness. Well, if they are done with an upright and special intention to please me, they come out full of light, because the intention is the purge of the action."
July 21st, 1927. Volume 22. Difference between the love of heaven and that of the earth. How oppression weighs the soul down, while the divine will empties her. I continue my living in the Divine Volition, and since my sweet Jesus often deprives me of his lovable presence, I call the sovereign Mama to my help, the angels, the Saints to help me and lend me their love, their adorations, but I may do from the earth what they do in heaven, so that drawn by the very love of heaven, my Jesus may come to his little exiled one, to she who so much longs for him. But heed 'less of my heart martyrdom and as though despising my size, my earnings, instead of having pity on me, he escapes me. Perhaps contending himself to look from afar at my terrible state. Maybe if he feels the love of heaven and me that he'd liked so much, he will come and will no longer leave me alone and abandoned for so long. But while I was speaking nonsense in my interior, my sweet Jesus, my dear life, came out from within me and clasping me in his arms told me, "My daughter, I do like the love of heaven, but that of the earth I like more. That of the earth is always new for me, that is new gains that I make, new glory. On the other hand, that of heaven I already possess, no one can take it away from me, that is all my own thing. But that of the earth I am in the act of acquiring, and many times I lose the new gains I should make because souls do not always give me the love and the glory they should give me. Now you must know that when souls die in my grace, they are confirmed in the nature of love, in the nature of glory, and in the life of the divine will. So in heaven everything is nature in all the Blessed. Therefore, they give nothing more; rather I give to them constantly that continuous act of joys, of happiness, of Beatitudes ever-new and without end. This is why I am all eyes over the earth, as though putting all Heaven aside, because Heaven is mine, and I fix on and become all attention for the soul who lives in the exile, who even though she does not possess the nature of heaven, wants to give me the new gains of love, of glory, and of adoration. If you knew how your love hovers around within my will, how it rises between heaven and earth, investing all created things and breaching even into heaven up to where my divine will extends. It gives me the new possession of the love of the creature who has let herself be invested by the power of my supreme Fiat. And while the possession of love reaches me, a new one she prepares that of glory. And as you return to repeat your acts, your acts are always new for me, because indeed you did not have them before. Therefore, you are always new in the love, in the glory, in the adoration you give me, because echoing in you, my will communicates to you that new act that it possesses by its own nature. So what I do in heaven, giving to all the Blessed that new act never interrupted of joys and of unspeakable contentment, you are destined to give to me from the earth in the light and power of my will. Therefore, be attentive on following its rapid flight." As my beloved Jesus continued to deprive me of himself, I felt so very oppressed and I thought to myself how everything was over, and many other things that had seemed useless to me to say on paper. And my lovable Jesus, placing his holy hands under my shoulders, as though to take me in his arms told me, "My daughter, how heavy you have become! Don't you know that oppression weighs the soul down? And if I want to take you in my arms, I have to make an effort to lift you. On the other hand, my will empties the weight of nature and its light, removing the gloom of what is human, renders her light, light and capable of any sacrifice, and giving her the wings of love, it gives to the soul of the first qualities of the celestial fatherland, which knows neither oppression nor darkness, but daylight without sunset and joy that never ends. And besides, what would you say if you heard the son say, 'Everything is over, I am no longer son because my Creator does not constantly add more light for me'? And you, I believe, would answer the son, 'I see you always because your maker has taken nothing away from you of the light he gave you. At the most, if he kept adding light, you would have been stronger and more refuge until your light.' So do I answer you. You are always son because the son of my will and of the knowledge is about it. More than light reigns in you, neither I nor anyone else can snatch from you a single one of the many knowledge-s that you possess about my eternal Fiat. And only because I do not constantly add more about it, as if what I have told you were nothing, you say, 'Everything is over,' as if this son were extinguished in you. It takes too much, my daughter, to extinguish this son of my will, nor will you yourself be able to escape its eternal rays that invading your soul, it clips from you everything that does not belong to the Sun. And therefore, follow its light and wait with patience for new light to come and be added so as to render the of my will more refuge and in you."
July 21st, 1935. Vol 33. The most intimate and most sorrowful sufferings of Jesus are the anticipations, his inventions, deliriums, discoveries of love. I am in the arms of the Divine Will, but with a nail in my heart for the privation of my sweet Jesus. I wait and wait again, and just waiting is the suffering that tortures me more. The hours seem like centuries to me, the days interminable. And if, may it never be, doubt presents itself that my dear life, sweet Jesus, will not come anymore, oh then I do not know what happens to me. I want to undo myself of me, have the same divine will that holds me imprisoned on this earth, and with rapid flight go from it to heaven. But not even this is given to me, because its chains are so strong that they are not subject to breaking, and I feel myself bound more strongly, so much so that hardly is it given to me to think about it, and I end with a more intense abandonment in the supreme Fiat. But while I was delirious, not being able to endure anymore, my always lovable Jesus returned to his little daughter, making himself seen with a wound in his heart that poured blood and flames, as if he wanted to cover all souls with his blood and burn them with his love and all goodness. He told me, "My daughter, courage. Your Jesus also suffers, and the sufferings that give me more sorrow are intimate sufferings that make me shed blood and flames. But my greater suffering, the continuous waiting. My gazes are always fixed on souls, and as I see that a creature has fallen into sin, then I wait and I wait again for her return to my heart in order to part in her. And not seeing her come, I wait with the pardon in my hands. That waiting embitters the suffering and forms such a torment for me as to make me shed blood and flames from my transfixed heart. The hours, the days that I wait seem years to me. Oh, how hard it is to wait! Let us move on. My love loves the creature so much that in putting her forth to the light of day, I established how many acts of love she must make me, how many prayers, how many good works she must do, and this in order to give her the right that I would always love her, that I would concede to her graces, helps, in order to operate good. But the creatures use it in order to form for me sufferings of waiting. Oh, many anticipations! From one act of love to another, if they even make it to me, how much slowness in operating good and praying, if they even do it, and I wait and I wait again. I feel the restlessness of my love that gives me delirium, yearnings, and gives me such intimate suffering that if I could be subject to dying, I would have died as many times for however many times I am not loved by the creatures. Other than this, there is the long waiting in the sacrament of my love. I wait for everyone. I arrive at counting the minutes, but alas, many of them I wait for in vain. Others come with a glacial coldness as to place me at the height of the harden martyrdom of my continuous anticipations. Few are those who we wait for each other, and only in these do I reinvigorate myself. I feel myself as repatriated in their hearts. I pour out my love and I find a refreshment for the hard martyrdom of my continuous waiting. To some it seems that this suffering is nothing, but it is the greatest that constitutes the hardest martyrdom. And you can say, how much it costs you to wait for me, so much that if I did not come to put an end and to sustain you, you would not have been able to endure. And then there is another waiting more sorrowful still: the yearning, the ardent desire, the long anxieties for the kingdom of my divine will. It is about six thousand years that I am waiting that the creation re-enters into it. I love her so much that I want, I yearned to see her happy. But in order to obtain this, we must live with one single will, such that every act opposed to mine is a nail. The trance fixes me, but do you know why? Because it renders her much more unhappy and dissimilar from me. And I, seeing myself in the immense open sea of my happiness and my children unhappy, how, how I suffer! And while I wait and I wait again, I am around them, I abound with graces, wood, light for it, in a way that they themselves can run in order to live together with me and with one single will. It will change their fate, we will have common Goods, happiness without end. The other sufferings give me some respite, but the suffering of waiting never ceases. It always has me on guard. It makes me use the most excessive inventions. It makes me form the inventions of love as to astonish heaven and earth. It makes me arrive at praying the creature, at supplicating her that she would not make me wait any more, because I cannot take any more. It weighs on me too much. Therefore, my daughter, unite yourself together with me to wait for the kingdom of my will and for all the anticipations that creatures make me suffer. At least we will be together, and your company will give me refreshment to a suffering so hard.
End of July 21st. Fiat.