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I am going through most bitter days. My poor heart is as though petrified by the pain of the privation of the One Who forms my life, my All. Although resigned, I still cannot do without lamenting to my sweet Jesus, when, almost flying, He passes before me, or moves in my interior. I remember that, during these laments, He once told me: "Abandonment in Me is the image of two torrents, each one pouring into the other with such force that their waters mix together; and forming highest waves of water, they arrive at touching Heaven - to the extent that the bed of those torrents remains dry. The roaring of those waters, their murmuring, is so sweet and harmonious that Heaven, in seeing Itself being touched by those waters, feels honored and shines with new beauty. And the Saints, in chorus, say: ‘This sweet sound and enrapturing harmony is a soul who abandoned herself in God. How beautiful! How beautiful!’
Another day He told me: "What do you fear? Abandon yourself in Me, and you will remain surrounded by Me as if within a circle, in such a way that if enemies, occasions or dangers approach, they will have to deal with Me, not with you; and I will answer for you. True abandonment in Me is rest for the soul and work for Me. If the soul is restless, it means that she is not abandoned in Me: a just pain is restlessness, for one who wants to live by herself, doing great wrong to Me, and great harm to herself."
Another day I was lamenting even more strongly, and my lovable Jesus, all goodness, told me: "My daughter, calm yourself; this state of yours is the void which is being formed at the second preparation of the new chastisements which are coming. Read well what I made you write, and you will find out that not all the chastisements have yet occurred. How many more cities will be destroyed! Nations will continue to draw up, each one against the other... And Italy? Her friendly nations will become her fiercest enemies. Therefore, patience, my daughter; when everything is prepared to call man back, I will come to you as before, and we will pray and cry together for ungrateful man. You, however - never go out of my Will. Since my Volition is Eternal, all that is done in my Will acquires an eternal, immense, infinite value; it is like a currency which arises, and never runs out. The most tiny acts done in my Will remain written with indelible characters, saying: ‘We are eternal acts, because an Eternal Will animated us, formed us and performed us...’ It happens as to a vase of clay into which liquid gold is poured, and the goldsmith forms gold items from that melted gold. Is it perhaps that that gold is not called gold because it has been liquefied in that clay vase? Certainly not. Gold is always gold, in whatever vase it might be melted. Now, the clay vase is the soul; my Will is the gold; the act of the creature operating in my Will combines my Will and hers, and they melt together. From that liquid, I, Divine Goldsmith, form the acts of eternal gold, in such a way that I can say that they are Mine, and the soul can say that they are hers."
