The Book of Heaven
—Unofficial Version—

July 9, 1925

Laments of the soul to Jesus. How the Cross is the knocking of God and the knocking of the soul.

I felt I could no longer be without my sweet Jesus. For many days I had to long for His return – but in vain. I would say to Him from the heart: ‘My Love, come back to your little daughter; don’t You see I cannot take it any more? Ah, to what a hard martyrdom You expose my poor existence, by depriving me of You!’ And tired and exhausted, I would abandon myself in His Most Holy Will.

Now, while I was in this state, I was reading, and I felt someone stretching out his arms around my neck. My mind became drowsy, and I found myself clasped in the arms of Jesus, all concealed and hidden in Him. I wanted to tell Him of my sorrow, but He gave me no time to do it. Then Jesus spoke, telling me: "My daughter, don’t you want to convince yourself that when my Justice, out of a just reason, wants to chastise the peoples, I am forced to hide from you? You are nothing other than a little particle which binds all the other particles of the creatures, and keeps them in a familiar relationship with you, and as though in feast. So, wanting to strike the other particles which are bound to you, my Justice finds Itself in a contrast, and feels refrained from striking. This is why, during these last days, in which I sent chastisements to the world, I remained hidden from you, though still remaining within you."

Now, as He was saying this, I found myself outside of myself, and He showed me that in various points of the earth there had been - somewhere earthquakes, somewhere grave fires with death of peoples, and somewhere else other troubles; and it seemed that more grave evils would follow. I was frightened, and I prayed. Then my adorable Jesus came back, and before Him, I saw myself very ugly, as though withered; and I said to Him: ‘My Life and my All, look at me – how ugly I have become, how I am about to wither. Ah, how I change without You! Your privation makes me lose the freshness, the beauty which is in your grace, and I feel like I am under a burning sun which, draining me of all vital humors, makes me wither and be consumed.’

Then Jesus made me suffer a little bit, together with Him. That suffering turned into celestial dew upon my soul, which restored the vital humors in me. And taking my poor soul in His hands, He added: "Poor daughter of Mine, do not fear; if my privation made you wither, my return will give you back freshness, beauty, color, and all of my features. Moreover, your suffering with Me will not only be like dew which rejuvenates you, but will serve as a continuous knocker, with which I may knock at the doors of your soul, and you at mine, in such a way that the doors may remain always opened, and you may freely enter into Me, and I into you. And my breath will serve you as breeze, in order to preserve all the gifts, and the beauty which I meant for you when I created you."

While He was saying this, He blew very intensely upon me; and squeezing me to Himself, He disappeared.