When the confessor came, he asked me if I had done the obedience; and after I told him how things had gone, he renewed the obedience - that for no reason was I to converse with Jesus, my sole and only comfort, and that I was to drive Him away if He came. And so, having understood that what was given to me was true obedience, in my interior I said ‘Fiat Voluntas Tua’, also in this. But – oh, how much it costs me! What a cruel martyrdom! I feel like I have a nail stuck inside my heart, which pierces it through; and since the heart is used to asking and longing for Jesus continuously – so much so, that just as the breathing and the heartbeat are continuous, so does it seem to me that my desiring and wanting my only Good is continuous – wanting to prevent this would be like wanting to prevent someone else from breathing, or his heart from palpitating. How could anyone live? Yet, one must let obedience prevail. Oh God, what pain, what atrocious torture! How to prevent the heart from asking for its very life? How to stop it? The will applied itself with all its strength in order to hold it, but since great vigilance was needed, continuously, from time to time it would become tired and discouraged, and the heart would make its escape, asking for Jesus. In noticing this, the will would apply itself with greater strength in order to stop it, but – no, it would very often lose. Therefore it seemed to me that I was doing continuous acts of disobedience. Oh, what contrasts, what a bloody war, what mortal agonies my poor heart suffered! I found myself in such constraints and in such sufferings, that I felt my life was leaving me. Yet, had I been able to die, it would have been a comfort for me. But – no; and what is more, I felt pains of death, without being able to die.
So, after shedding most bitter tears for the whole day, at nighttime, as I found myself in my usual state, my always benign Jesus came, and I, forced by obedience, said to Him: ‘Lord, do not come, for obedience does not want it!’
And He, compassionating me and wanting to strengthen me in the sufferings in which I found myself, with His creative hand marked my person with a large sign of the cross, and then He left me.
But who can describe the purgatory I was in? And what is more, I was not allowed to fling myself toward my highest and only Good! Ah, yes, I was forbidden to ask and long for Jesus! Ah! The blessed souls of Purgatory are permitted to ask - to fling themselves, to pour themselves out, toward the Highest Good; they are only prohibited from taking possession of Him. But I… no, I was deprived also of this comfort. So, all night long I did nothing but cry.
When my weak nature could not take any more, adorable Jesus came back, in the act of wanting to speak with me; and I, remembering the obedience which wants to reign over all, immediately said to Him: ‘My dear Life, I cannot speak. Please do not come, for obedience does not want it. If You want to make your Will understood, go to them.’
While I was saying this, I saw the confessor; and Jesus, drawing near him, told him: "This is impossible for my souls. I keep them so immersed in Me as to form one single substance; so much so, that it is no longer possible to distinguish one from the other. It is like when two substances are mixed together – one transfuses itself into the other; and afterwards, if anyone wanted to separate them, it would be useless even just to think about it. In the same way, it is impossible that my souls be separated from Me." Having said this, He left, and I remained in my affliction - greater than before. My heart was beating so very strongly that I felt my chest crack.
After this, I cannot explain how, I found myself outside of myself, and forgetting - I don’t know how - about the obedience received, I wandered throughout the vault of the heavens, crying, shouting, and searching for my sweet Jesus. All of a sudden I saw Him coming toward me, throwing Himself into my arms, all burning and languishing. But soon I remembered the command received, and I said to Him: ‘Lord, do not want to tempt me this morning. Don’t You know that obedience does not want this?’
And He: "The confessor sent Me; this is why I came."
And I: ‘It is not true. Are you perhaps some demon who wants to deceive me and make me fail the obedience?’
And Jesus: "I am not a demon".
And I: ‘If you are not a demon, let us make the sign of the cross to each other.’
So we both signed each other with the cross. Then, I continued, saying to Him: ‘If it is true that the confessor sent You, let us go to him, so that he himself may see whether you are Jesus Christ or a demon. Then I will be sure.’
So we went to the confessor, and since Jesus was a child, I placed Him in his arms, telling him: ‘Father, look, yourself: is he my sweet Jesus or not?’
Now, while blessed Jesus was with father, I said to Him: ‘If you really are Jesus, kiss the hand of the confessor.’ In my mind I thought that if he was the Lord, He would accept the humiliation of kissing his hand; while if he was a demon, he wouldn’t. And Jesus kissed it, though not to the man, but to his priestly authority – in this way He kissed it. After this, it seemed that the confessor was pleading with Him, to see whether he was a demon; and not finding Him as such, he gave Him back to me. But in spite of this, my poor heart was unable to enjoy the embraces of my beloved Jesus, because obedience kept it as though bound - hampered; more so, since there was not yet a contrary order, so it did not dare to pour itself out, not even to say a word of love …
Oh, holy obedience! How strong and powerful you are! I see you before me, in these days of martyrdom, like a most powerful warrior, armed from head to foot with swords, darts and arrows; filled with all those instruments which are apt to wound. And when you see that my poor heart, tired and down, wants to be cheered, searching for its refreshment, its life, the center to which it feels drawn as by a magnet - looking at me with a thousand eyes, you wound me from all sides with mortal wounds. O please, have pity on me, and don’t be so cruel with me!
But as I am saying this, the voice of my adorable Jesus is making itself heard to my ear, saying: "Obedience was everything for Me, and I want obedience to be everything for you. Obedience made Me be born, obedience made Me die. The wounds I have on my body are all wounds and marks that obedience made to Me. With reason you said that she is like a most powerful warrior, armed with all kinds of weapons which are apt to wound. In fact, in Me, she left not even a drop of blood; she tore my flesh to pieces; she dislocated my bones, while my poor Heart, exhausted and bleeding, kept looking for a relief from one who would have compassion for Me. Acting with Me as more than a cruel tyrant, only then was obedience content, when she sacrificed Me on the Cross and saw Me breathe my last, as victim for her love. And why this? Because the office of this most powerful warrior is to sacrifice souls; therefore, she does nothing but wage a fierce war against those who do not sacrifice themselves completely for her. So, she does not care whether the soul suffers or enjoys, whether she lives or dies; her eyes are intent on looking at whether she wins, because in other things she meddles not. So, the name of this warrior is "victory", because she concedes all victories to the obedient soul; and when it seems that she dies, then does true life begin. What greater thing did obedience not concede to Me? Through her I conquered death, I defeated hell, I released man from his chains, I opened Heaven; and like a victorious King, I took possession of my Kingdom – not only for Myself, but for all my children who would profit from my Redemption. Ah, yes, it is true that she cost Me my life, but the name ‘obedience’ resounds sweetly to my hearing, and this is why I have so much love for obedient souls".
I continue from where I left.
After a little while, the confessor came, and when I said to him what is said above, he renewed the obedience – that I should continue in the same way. And I said to him: ‘Father, at least allow me to give my heart the freedom to ask Jesus, when He comes, to let me do the obedience to say: "Do not come, we cannot converse." And he: "Do the best you can to stop Him; and when you cannot, then give Him freedom."
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