The Book of Heaven
—Unofficial Version—

February 8, 1925

How each soul is a dwelling of the Divine Will. How It commands and rules. Instead, if It does not reign, the Divine Will becomes like a stranger.

This morning my sweet Jesus made Himself seen in so much suffering that my poor soul felt consumed with compassion. He had all His limbs dislocated, and wounds, profound and so embittered, that Jesus moaned and writhed for the bitterness of the pain. He placed Himself near me as though wanting to let me share in His pains. By only looking at Him, I felt His pains being reflected in me; and Jesus, all goodness, said to me: "My daughter, I cannot take it any more. Touch my embittered wounds so as to soothe them; place your kiss of love upon them, so that your love may mitigate the spasm I feel. This state of mine, so painful, is the true portrait of the way in which my Will finds Itself in the midst of creatures. It is in their midst, but as if separated, because, since they do their will, not Mine, Mine remains as though dislocated and wounded by the creatures. Therefore, unite your will to Mine, and give a relief to my dislocation.

I pressed Him to myself, and I kissed the wounds of his hands. Oh, how embittered they were because of many works, even holy, but which do not have their origin in the Will of God, so as to soothe Its pain. I squeezed them between my hands, and Jesus let me do everything; even more, He wanted it, and so I did the same with the other wounds, to the extent that He remained with me for almost the whole morning. Finally, before leaving me, He told me: "My daughter, you soothed Me, I feel my bones in place; but do you know who can soothe Me and reunite my dislocated bones? One who lets my Will reign within herself. When the soul puts her will aside, giving it not even one act of life, my Will acts as master in the souls; It reigns, It commands and It rules. It is as if It were in Its own home – that is, in my Celestial Fatherland. So, being at home, I act as the master, I dispose, I give of my own, because, since this is my dwelling, I can place in it whatever I want, to make of it what I want, and I receive the greatest honor and glory that the creature can give Me. On the other hand, one who wants to do her own will, she herself acts as the master; she disposes, she commands, and my Will remains like a poor stranger, neglected and, at the occurrence, even despised. I would want to give of my own, but I cannot, because the human will does not want to give Me its place. Even in holy things, it wants to be the leader, and I can place nothing from my own. How uncomfortable I feel in the soul who makes her own will reign!

It happens as to a father who goes to visit one of his sons who is far away, or to a friend who goes to another friend. As he knocks, the door opens, but he is received with coldness; he is left there in the first room; no one prepares lunch for him, or the bed to let him rest. He is neither allowed to share in the joys of that house, nor is he confided about its pains. What affront! What sorrow for this father, or friend! If he brought treasures to please him, he does not feel like leaving anything, and he goes away, pierced in the depth of his heart.

All the opposite occurs in a soul who lets my Will reign within her. Imagine here a most beloved son who, upon hearing someone knocking, opens his door and sees his father, so longed for. He embraces him, kisses him, introduces him, and puts all the house in feast; he has the best meal prepared for him, and the softest of beds. Even more, he gives him full lordship over the whole house, and also over himself. Imagine the same with a friend toward a friend, most beloved and greatly longed for. This is honor, love, subjection of a son toward his own father; and this is true affection and esteem of a passionate friend toward his best friend. In this case, all the treasures that the father has brought for his son, all the gifts that the friend has brought for his faithful friend, will not go back, but will all be poured onto the lap of the son by the father who was so graciously welcomed, and by the loving friend onto the lap of his dear friend, from whom, with so much affection, he was received and well treated

Such is my Will: It comes from Heaven in order to dwell within souls. Blessed is the soul who welcomes It and lets It reign. But miserable are the many others who do not want to welcome It, and do not want It to reign in them, leaving It outside like a stranger and a destitute. But my Will does not leave, even though they keep Me like a stranger: I remain in their midst - waiting, in order to give them my goods, my graces and my Sanctity."