Jesus remained silent. My poor mind was troubled by the so many evils that invest and will invest the earth. In the meantime the Sovereign Queen made Herself seen, with Her eyes all red, as if bleeding for so much crying. What a heartbreak, in seeing my Heavenly Mother crying. Then, with Her Maternal tone, with Inexpressible Tenderness—crying—She told me...
“Dearest daughter of Mine, pray together with Me.
It breaks My Heart to see the chastisements that will invest the whole humanity. The volubility [radheid, vluchtige snelheid] of the leaders—today they say something, tomorrow something else—will throw the peoples in a sea of pains, and of blood, too.
Poor children of Mine!
Pray My daughter, don't leave Me alone in My suffering!
May all happen for the Triumph of the Divine Will.”
Then I was following the Divine Will in Its Acts, all abandoned in Its arms, when my sweet Jesus continued:
“My daughter, as the creature enters Our Will to make It her own, It makes Our Will her own, and We make her will Our own. In everything she does, loving, adoring, working, suffering and praying, Our Will forms Its Divine seed in her acts. O! how Beautiful, fresh and saintly she grows.
Our Will is like the lymph for the plants. If there is lymph in the plants, they grow beautifully—green, thick of leaf, producing mature, big, tasty fruits. But if the lymph begins to be missing, the poor plant loses the green—the leaves fall, she can't produce her nice fruits, so in the end it dries up.
The lymph is like the soul of the plant.
Like the vital humors that sustain the plant and make it bloom.
Such is the soul without My Will. It loses the Principle, the Life, the soul of the Good. It loses the vegetation, the freshness, the Strength. It becomes faded, moronic, weak and ends up losing the seed of Good.
If you knew how much I pity a soul who lives without My Will.
I could call her ‘the painful scene of the Creation.' I, who Created all things with such Beauty and harmony, am forced, because of human ingratitude, to see the most Beautiful creatures I made, poor, weak, covered with wounds.
To move to pity.
And still, My Will is at everyone's disposal.
It is not denied to anybody.
Only those who reject It, who - ungrateful - do not wánt to know It...
v.o.l.u.n.t.a.r.i.l.y. deprive themselves of It.
Great Pain for Us.”
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