The Book of Heaven
—Unofficial Version—

October 1, 1909

Jesus counts, weighs and measures everything in the soul, so that nothing may be lost and she may be repaid for everything.

Being very afflicted because of my poor state, I felt nauseating to myself, and abominable before God. I felt as if the Lord had left me halfway on the path, and without Him I feel I cannot go on any further. I feel He no longer wants to use me in order to spare the world the chastisements, and so He has moved crosses and thorns away from me; He has discontinued all my sharing in His Passion, the communications… The only thing I see is that He is on the alert so that I remain at peace. My God, what pain! If You Yourself did not keep me distracted from these losses - of crosses, of You, and of everything, I would die of grief. Ah! if it wasn’t for your Holy Will, into what a sea of troubles I would have fallen! Oh! keep me always in your Holy Will - this is enough for me.

Now, as I was in my usual state, I was crying and saying to myself: ‘Good Jesus has taken me into no account, nor the years of bed, nor the sacrifices – nothing; otherwise He would not have left me - and I cried and cried. At that moment, I felt Him move in my interior and I lost consciousness, but also outside of myself I kept crying. Then, as if a door had opened in my interior, I saw Jesus. I felt huffy and I did not say anything to Him; I just kept crying. Jesus told me: "Calm yourself, calm yourself, do not cry; if you cry, I feel my Heart touched and I faint with love for you. Do you want to increase my pains because of your love?"

Then, assuming a majestic air, as though sitting on a throne within my heart, He seemed to hold a pen in His hand and to write; and turning to me, He said: "See whether I do not take your things into account – not only the years of bed, the sacrifices, but even the thoughts you have for Me. I am writing your affections, your desires – everything… everything, even that which you would want to do or suffer, but you don’t because I do not concede it to you. I count, weigh and measure everything, so that nothing may be lost and you may be repaid for everything. And as I write it, I keep it in my own Heart."

Then, I don’t now how, I found myself in Jesus, while before I was in my interior. It seemed that the head of Jesus was in the place of my head, and all of my members served as His body; and He repeated: "See how I keep you – like the members of my own body"; and He disappeared. After a little while, as I continued to be afflicted, bursting into crying every so often, Jesus came back and told me: "My daughter, courage, I have not left you; rather, I am hidden, because if I let Myself be seen as before, you would bind Me everywhere, and I would not be able to chastise the world in anything. Nor have I left you halfway on the path; don’t you remember what these last years of your life are? These are the years wanted by your confessor. Don’t you remember that, not once, but as many as four or five times you found yourself fighting with Me – I wanted to take you with Me, and you would tell me that obedience did not want it; and while I had prepared you in order to take you with Me, I was forced to leave you again? Look now at the consequences you are bearing; these are years of pause and of patience. Charity and obedience have their own thorns, which open large wounds and make the heart bleed; but they make the most ruby-red, fragrant and beautiful roses bloom. In fact, in seeing in your confessor the fruit of his good will, and charity, and fear that the world might be chastised - because of this I somehow concurred with him; but if I had not found anyone who would pray Me and interpose himself, you would certainly not be here. But, come – courage, the exile will not be too long after all, and I promise you that the day will come when I will not let myself be won by anyone."

Who can tell in what bitternesses I swim – comforted, yes, but embittered down to the marrow of my bones. I cannot remember this without crying; so much so, that in telling it to the confessor, the heat of my tears was such that It seemed I would get upset with him; and I truly said to him: ‘You have been the cause of my troubles.’