November 18, 1947prev home next
I was correcting - that is, making the texts legible. I read Jesus’ words to his disciples on the Friday before entering Jerusalem, where He compared the soul to a young swallow getting stronger and stronger for flight.
Jesus’ voice sounded very lovingly, at my side and filled me with joy. He said:
“You have also been like that young swallow. You have been my swallow. You have fortified and oriented yourself more and more energetically for the major flights. You opened your wings at the dawn of life to my pain: the Victim was always the point orienting you. How you loved Me then, O innocent one marked by pain, and you felt predilection for my hour of pain in the midst of all that my earthly day was.
“You then loved Me as the Bread of Life. Later, as the Heart of hearts. But the figure of the Victim has always held precedence over all the others. It has been your polestar, your blood-red sun. The blood of my wounds, your honey. My gaze in agony, your comfort. The consummation of my life, your example. And you have flown ever more powerfully and securely, longer and longer, higher and higher, soul, victim soul, little sheep of the Martyr, Maria, loving like the other Mary, but possessing the innocence of your upright life to make you dear to Me.
“Oh, come! Come here with Me. Come, for the last wound is becoming a nest for you, my little swallow tired of earthly flights and of what the world is. Weary, as my heart was in the final days of life. Come into Me.
“You have given Me everything, rising higher and higher. And I have given you everything. All my love and all the knowledge of Jesus of Nazareth. And I have given you more. But this is the love which is not disclosed to men. This is the love which is fulfilled under the gaze of our Father and which the seraphim note down.
“Maria...!”
I do not want to transcribe the rest, referring to a most unfortunate soul who stayed - to no avail, I believe - here, where God’s fragrances are, and my relations with her.
I abandon myself to the joy of the Divine Presence and its caresses. It is certainly true. I really have acted like that young swallow. The first flights were clumsy, uncertain, and filled with fear, and then.... But it was not because of me that I became such a queen as to glide through the heavens of love securely. It was love that always held up my wings, which always sought to fly higher, not for my own glory, but to give glory to Him who attracts us, to Him who draws comfort from the loving acts of heroism by souls, but they would fall in weariness without his help. Oh, it has been and is Love that transports me with love.... Jesus...!