The Book of Heaven
—Unofficial Version—

January 10, 1926

The way and the crafting which the Divine Will makes in all created things in order to reach the creature, so that she may place the final point of Its fulfillment.

I was fusing all of myself in the Holy Divine Volition, and the littleness of my mind wandered within It.  I could see It everywhere and in every place, always in the act of operating in the whole Creation.  Oh! how I would have wanted to follow It, in order to give It my little requital of love in everything It was doing; my  ‘thank you’, my profound adoration, my meager company.  Now, while I was thinking of this, my adorable Jesus moved in my interior, telling me:  “My daughter, my Will is always on the way in the created things, in order to go toward creatures.  But who fulfills It?  Who places the final point on the work of my Will?  The creature; or rather, the creature who takes all created things as the fulfillment of my Will.

My Will makes Its way in the seed, as It makes the earth receive it, giving it the virtue of making it germinate and multiply.  It performs Its crafting by calling the water to water it, the sun to fecundate it, the wind to purify it, the cold to make it take root, the heat to develop it and make it reach the proper maturity.  Then It gives virtue to the machines to cut it, to thresh it, to grind it, so as to be able to give it the substance of bread; and calling the fire to cook it, It offers it to the mouth of the creature, that she may eat of it and preserve her life.  See, then, how long a way and a crafting has my Will done in that seed; how many things It has called over that seed, to make it reach, as bread, the mouth of creatures!  Now, who gives the final step to the way of my Will, and the fulfillment of the final act of my Supreme Volition?  One who takes that bread and eats it as bearer of the Divine Will within it; and as she eats that bread, she eats my Will in it, to increase the strengths of her body and soul, as the Divine Will’s fulfillment of everything.  The creature, one can say, is the center of the rest to which my Will aspires in all the ways and crafting It makes in all created things, in order to reach the creature.  The same with all other created things which serve man.  My Will makes Its way in the sea, and works in the multiplication of the fish; It makes Its way on the earth, and It multiplies plants, animals and birds; It makes Its way in the celestial spheres in order to have everything under Its eyes, so that nothing may escape It, and It may make Itself feet, hands and heart for each creature, to offer each of them the fruit of Its innumerable harvests.  But all Its feast is only for those who take of Its own as the final point and fulfillment of Its Supreme Volition.  If it wasn’t for my Will, which, as Its Fiat was released, left Itself on the way in all created things in order to make them reach man, so that the Supreme Fiat might have Its first place in the one for whom all things had been created, therefore being the ruler and the actor of the very life of the creature, all things would remain paralyzed and like many painted pictures in which the life of the things that they portray is absent.  So, poor creature, if my Will withdrew from making Its way in all created things, these would all remain like painted pictures, no longer producing the good that each thing contains toward man.  Therefore, I can say that it is not created things that serve him, but it is my Will, veiled, hidden, that makes Itself the servant of man.  Is it not right, then, and the most sacred duty, for him to look at my Supreme Will in all things, and to fulfill It in everything, and, returning the service, to serve the One who does not disdain to serve him even in the smallest things?  And I feel as though compensated, repaid of my crafting, when I see that they reach him, and he takes them as the fulfillment of my Will.  And therefore I make feast, because the purpose of my long way in the created things has obtained my intent and the fulfillment of my Will realized in the creature.

It happens to my Will as to an actor who must present his show to the audience.  Poor one!  How many hidden works, how many vigils, how many preparations; how much art does he not prepare even in his movements so that his postures may make the audience, now smile, now cry!  In all this crafting, the actor does not make feast; on the contrary, he sweats, toils and labors.  And when everything seems to be prepared, he prepares himself to call the public to see his show; and the more people he sees, the more he feels joy arise in his heart, for, who knows, he might be able to make a beautiful feast.  But the true fulfillment of his feast is when, the show having been performed, full-handed, he feels coins of gold and silver flow in his hands, as appreciation and triumph of his show.  But if after so many preparations, he sets everything up, he plays and plays toy trumpets, but nobody shows up, or just a few people who leave him alone at the first acts of the show – poor one, how he suffers, and the hope of his feast turns into mourning.  Who is it that so much embittered that poor actor, so capable and kind in performing his scenes?  Ah! the ungrateful people, who did not even want to be spectators of the scenes of that poor actor.

Such is my Will, which, like capable actor, prepares the most beautiful scenes in order to amuse man in the theater of the whole Creation – not to receive, but to give.  It prepares scenes of light - of the most refulgent; scenes of flowerings and of beauties - the most radiant; scenes of strength in the roaring of the thunder, in the bursting of the thunderbolt, in the continuous rising of the waves, and even on the height of the highest mountains; the most moving scenes of a Baby who cries, shivers, and is numb with cold; sorrowful and tragic scenes of blood, and even of death, in my Passion.  No actor, as capable as he might be, can match Me in the varieties of my loving scenes.  But, alas!, how many do not look at my Will in all these scenes, and do not take the substance of the fruit which is in them, and turn the feasts which my Will prepared in Creation and in Redemption into mourning.  Therefore, my daughter, let nothing escape you; take all things as a gift that my Will gives you; whether they are small or great, natural or supernatural, bitter or sweet, let them all enter into you as gifts and as the fulfillment of my Will.”