The Book of Heaven
—Unofficial Version—

July 8, 1906

The soul is drawn by the light of Jesus, but obedience does not want it.

It continues almost always in the same way; I only feel a little bit more strength. May God be always blessed. Everything is little in the face of His love, even His very privation, even being away from Heaven - and only to obey. Now obedience wants me to write something about the light which I still see from time to time. Sometimes I seem to see Our Lord inside of me, and another image, all of light, coming out of His Humanity. More and more His Humanity ignites the fire and the image of the light of Christ, as if It were riddling this fire; and from this riddled fire a light comes out, fully similar to His image of light. He is all pleased and awaits it anxiously to unite it to Himself, and then it becomes incorporated once again into His Humanity. Other times, I find myself outside of myself, and I see myself all fire; I see the light which is about to take off from the fire, and Our Lord blowing His breath into that light. The light rises and begins its way toward the mouth of Jesus Christ, and with His breath He rejects it and attracts it, He enlarges it and makes it more shining; and the poor light wriggles about and makes every effort, for it wants to go into His mouth. It seems to me that if I arrived at that, I would breathe my last; yet, I am forced to say in my interior: ‘Obedience does not want it,’ in spite of the fact that saying this costs me my life - God. The Lord seems to delight in playing many jokes with this light.

It also seems to me that the Lord comes and wants to review everything that He Himself has given me - whether everything is orderly and clean of dust. Then He takes my hand and removes the rings which He gave me when He espoused me to Himself; one of them He found intact, and the rest He dusted with His breath; and then He placed them back. Then, it is as if He clothes me completely, and then He places Himself near me and says: "Now, yes, you are beautiful. Come to Me, I cannot be without you. Either you come to Me, or I to you – you are my beloved, my joy, my contentment." While He says this, the light wriggles about and makes every effort, for it wants to go into Jesus; and as it begins its flight, I see that the confessor blocks it with his hands and wants to enclose it inside me, and Jesus remains quiet and lets him do it. Oh, God, what pain! Every time this happens, it seems I am going to die and reach the harbor, but obedience makes me find myself on the way again. If I wanted to say everything about this light I would never end; but it is so painful for me to write about this, that I cannot go on. Also, many things I am unable to express, therefore I keep silent.