06.01.2007. Before the Holy Mass I saw a picture of a solitary house in a lush green grass. Its windows overlooking the east. There was a forest around it. Through the windows I could see the light of the setting sun. The window panes were brilliant with a light-orange glow. There was surreal silence around. I approached the window gingerly attracted by this beautiful vista. And what a great surprise! The window was open and inside I saw a table with a white tablecloth, and a figure of a man dressed in white robe, with shoulder-length hair. He was proceeding with the mystery of the Mass, like a priest. However, the table was empty.
This vision “helps” me in my concentration during the Mass. A few days later I realized that the splendid “window” meant the monstrance with the Holy Host. While adoring The Most Holy Sacrament, we really and truly adore Jesus who looks at us, at each one that is on his knees before Him. I was aware of this fact but the picture of “the house” helps me look more deeply into my soul, direct it more strongly toward The Most Holy Sacrament. The awareness of the fact that Jesus is looking at us, makes Adoration much deeper. Our physicality that is our human dimension and the Divine spiritual dimension, are united  in front of The Most Holy Sacrament. The two worlds communicate through love. My human dimension, the face, the eyes, the thoughts are recognizable by the Countenance of Jesus that is hidden in the Holy Host. We look at each other: He and I. I direct my soul but also myself, the physical person, toward the concrete Countenance, the concrete Person. We talk to each other. Adoration is not just a ritual; it is the real Meeting, when we recognize each other, as if we were at a sumptuous banquet table, filled with friendship and love. Suddenly I hear in my heart: come to Me, I Am lonesome quite often. I gaze at the church  columns, icons; My eyes look for your eyes, talk to Me, I am listening.

 

A sculpture

I carve You, Jesus, as a living statue
In the gray clay of life
With the Bible on my knees …

I form the shape of your beautiful body
Out of happy days
I - an unaccomplished sculptor …

Many years have passed in this act of artistry.
But the lines in the sculpture are still irregular
There is still so much work ahead …

I paint the tears with the sadness of hard times
They add warm smoothness to the gray clay
And mark the traces …

I change Your Countenance every day
I want to know the secret of beauty
But the sculptor’s chisel is so miserable … 

Sometimes I see your eyes open 
At the mystery of our encounter  
But the chisel slips out of my clumsy fingers …

I forget Your look of love
That knowing smile, the blessed aura
I revere and pray …

I stretch my sculpture on the cross
I nail the hands and the legs, like the hangmen
And smear the wounds with scarlet paint

I attach the cross to my sculpture
And look for the face that I want to see
And Your lips mutter:

We mould each other, everyday
I - with the chisel of Love 
You, with the chisel … in the gray clay

11.01.2007 During the Mass, I asked in my heart how The Divine Mercy “touches” a person. It was in relationship with the death of an endeared person. I saw a picture of the scales. There was a golden coin on one scale, on the opposing one, there were clumps of human sins piled together. The scale with sins didn’t get the balance down. The one little coin counterbalanced the scale of sins. I easily guessed how to interpret this picture, but at the same moment I saw the same scales, but instead of the coin, there was lying the white Holy Host (light arid frail). I thought how great the Divine Mercy is, if God is ready to forgive us our sins which we are sorry for, we do penance wholeheartedly. The Divine Mercy can’t by undermined or outweighed by any human devices of material scales. It is a great Mystery of Love.

 

Death

The sun rises and sets
It rains and snows
The clock’s and pendulum swings and strikes the hour
And Life passes away regardless …
It passes like sunrise or sunset
The clock ticks in no hurry  
As if it forgot to honor 
That one holy moment of no compromise
The Death …
The empty bed, the wardrobe still ajar
The flowers not watered and thirsty
Left glasses, like orphans, a TV remote control 
Man strolled out with Death, arm in arm
For a walk, on a trip of no return
Lady Death doesn’t change the agenda of the day
She takes you away silently, and doesn’t tell you to pack the suitcase
Maybe I’ll take a warm coat? — Life asks
What for? - it is warm where we go to
May I switch off the television?
What for? 
Those for whom the clock is still ticking
Will switch it off …
Life and Death wander along the way
That they don’t know
Life sees more ritual and is euphoric  
Funeral, tears, flowers, a priest re-quern 
And I …
A little man dressed in black
Have I crossed over yet? — Life asks, a bit confused
Death smiles:
But You are talking with Me now …
May I make one request? Life asks
What? Death mockingly asks
I want to goand wipe the tears off the weeping 
They look so sad.

19.01.2007. During Adoration I was considering the problem of the spiritual world that is not tangible and we, people, are so physical in our existence. We recognize the world by touching.. We want to touch the object of our love. I prayed to Jesus and I said: I would like to touch You so much.. Then I hear deep in my heart: but I touch you in the Holy Communion, I Am in It, did you forget that? I remained on earth in the form of the Holy Host. When you, people receive Me, you forget about the holiness of this “touch”.
I continued my considerations about human existence. We are physical in this world, imperfect, susceptible to diseases, injuries. But thanks to our “physicality”, we can aspirate to get more perfect. This is what God wanted when He created us as human beings. And only here, on this earth, in these conditions we can try to live with dignity –holding the Decalogue in our hands. Whenever we don’t follow the Decalogue - then our human dignity is eroded and we suffer. Our egotism “comes back” to us some day in a form of despair, considering our bad deeds God has given us free will of the mind so that we could direct ourselves toward positive values. Our passions, anger, hatred “kill” dignity in us; we also abuse our own body that is so important for God. He created it with love. He sanctified it through Baptism. Jesus, by taking on the human form didn’t “humiliate” Himself. He showed man’s value. He portrayed  how good man could become using his own hands, his mind in this world which is so physical.

Transition

Is our life like a large granary
In which we gather people and events?
Or is it just a tiny corner
Where our soul should be taken care of?

Where have you gone, the world of my youth?
The songs of the past years haven’t got silent yet
And I still hear the quaver of those voices
Although I see empty seats around my table

In the granary of my life I tried to shut out
The reserves of love for the time of starving feelings
Somebody unlocked the bolts or they might get rusted?
Time itself has given out the loafs but the after-taste is still lingering

When I close my eyes, I see the world of my youth
And those celebrants dancing with their lives 
When I open my eyes, they disappear like tired pilgrims
I touch cold stone with their unforgettable names

There are more and more pearls in my Rosary of life
Which I sanctify with prayer in memory of the dead
There are more and more chairs that won’t be sat upon
By those who were like daily bread of my life

I don’t gather stocks or look for the granaries anymore
To store in them whatever the hand perceives
You, Lord have blessed me with such a teaching:
It’s time for you to store the treasures in the world that does not pass away.

Free will

Free will is not running after the power of the mind 
It is the courage to accept our own weakness
Free will is not the space for our flights to shuttle through
It is the stone where we stumble over another man
Free will is not free choice
It is the wall on which God has written the Decalogue
Free will is the wonderful gift  
Which must be offered, otherwise, it will lose the splendor of the gift
Free will doesn’t have wings, though, some believe otherwise
It has the legs that get weary
It has the eyes that cry 
It has the heart that loves
Free will is the altar …
At this altar, the Love of God blesses the love of man.

 
20.01.2007. I was falling asleep and I pray to Father Pio to protect me day and night. At night I had a dream.
I saw John Paul II in silver amour; he had a golden miter on his head (like a bishop’s during a ceremony). He had a red stulla around his neck. I was surprised and ask why he dressed like a knight, like Archangel Michael? He smiles, his face was young and he looked strong and so regal in his posture. He was sitting on the throne. He answered; “I am dressed this way because I am going to defend the Polish church.”
The next day, after the Holy Mass I prayed in front of the picture of Merciful Jesus. Suddenly I heard a voice nearby: ‘they offend me, persecute me’ I turned my head, because the voice was exceptionally strong. I listened up,
I love You - I say it to Jesus in my prayer. Then I heard as if someone replayed a recording in my head – ‘Love is not the beautiful chants of angelic choirs. It is suffering! The Merciful Love that I bestow upon you, it’s notsatisfaction, ecstasy - it is responsibility and devotion. Only the saints know such Love and are absolutely obedient to My Will. Look at the cross, there you find The Merciful Love. Man gets to know such principles as justice, treason, hostility more easily. It’s more difficult for him to embrace and acknowledge the Love of God’. Then I answered: we have a longing for Such Love, deep in our hearts. This longing gives sense to our faith.
After a while, I heard in my heart: When you feel depressed, cast away evil that surrounds you. Don’t think over the thoughts that depress you. Don’t fill up your heart with them. Leave some room for Love. Leave human affairs to God. When you keep the space for Love in your heart, then Jesus will act, will bring peace; Hewill “lift” you over telling worries. You will see them as insignificant, in Love’s perspective. All assessments of other people’s activities bring confusion to our souls. Go along the right path, although “the evil voice” prompts and defines it asnaivety. God’s Justice doesn’t work like human justice, so let God’s Justice be active and prevail.

Prayer for help

I am on my way to You, Lord
The way isn’t straight and friendly
The drill of the day and frequent worries
Becloud Your Light like fog
Sometimes I meet people on this way
They hold my hand in aid with love
We wander along, assisting each other 
We pick up those who fall down
There are also moments when Night falls
And I stop to rest, tired and lonely 
Those who assisted me relentlessly
Keep going on, looking for the light
On this way there are still many temptations
They come like phantoms out of the side roads
They tempt: stay with us, have some rest
Your legs aren’t strong enough to cover the distance
I try to be deaf to their soliciting and flattering propositions 
I recall memories of endearing encounters with You, Lord
I glow with faith, a little candle-end
And I pray:
Come out into my way, Jesus
Stand a cross that I can lean against
And a modest chapel with Holy Mary
So that I could be sure that I am going toward You
Along the way
On which once - You walked through.

Light and darkness

It’s so beautiful to stride along the way of faith
In the procession of lights, with sublime sounds
Every step is … like a victory
The Angels’ wings carry like the chariots
The comrades gallantly like the knights with the Archangels’ shields
The wind-storm choruses the holy hymns
And the soul soars toward The Most High

When lights go out, hymns get silent
The Angels go away to rest
Friends fall asleep, tired from the journey
Darkness shrouds the way of faith
Then we look for strength and hope blindly

Instead of a wide road, there is a narrow path
Quite near, there are dark waters with unknown depth
And the devilish whisper of the outside world; return!
Where are your friends, where are the helping hands?
A soul is striding painstakingly along a narrow foot-bridge
Like Hiob, the soul accepts God’s conditions for the trip
She strides in silence, she listens to God’s whisper
And then a holy thought is born, with painful courage

In deep waters
On a narrow foot-bridge
You put me, Jesus …
Do You trust me, on this way of hardship?

14.02.2007. Today before the Mass, I told Jesus that I came to Him on St. Valentine’s Day to offer Him my heart. I experienced a feeling of “closeness” with Jesus, as if someone in my heart was saying: “your eyes are like mirrors in which I see your problems and other people. You recommend your close friends to Me. I receive them like photos and store them in my memory. I remember, although not always you get what you ask for.’ At this moment I recalled St. Monique who had asked God for many years to convert her son Augustine. How precious the intercession prayer for other people is! The very awareness that the prayer doesn’t soar up in to space (as some think), but it directly ‘touches” Jesus and exists in His Memory — this is a wonderful religious experience. Your eyes are like mirrors in which I see your needs - I keep hearing it in my heart. I’ve been praying to You, Lord, for so many years... Then I see a peculiar picture: there is a box filled with the photos of this person. I see that Jesus is smiling and I hear in my heart: I remember. Sometimes these requests are difficult because they concern the people who are far from the Church, then we ask The Holy Mother for intercession. Jesus never refuses The Holy Mother; She takes over our photos and brings them to Her Son and “puts off” justice. Jesus  receives her requests in candor.

I was surprised with the simplicity of the rationality and interpretation of this vision. Our eyes can’t be blank, like an empty film. We go to Jesus and we recommend our beloved ones, affairs to Him, out of our hearts, sometimes out of our will or mind. We “show” Him the “photos” of our desires. Only then can a dialogue become meaningful.

Thanksgiving

Thank You, Lord
For the beauty of the mountains, oceans and streams 
And for a little clearing in the wood, bathed in the sun
For your inspired wise-men’s holy books and beautiful paintings
And for the simple words in our daily life

Thank You, Lord
For the cathedrals richly decorated
And for a small roadside chapel, adorned with heart-felt flowers
For martyrs and all saints anointed
And for the sinner who knelt down with humility

Thank You, Lord
For those who pray in churches piously
And even for one “Hail Mary” of my mother and father
For the green forests, in the vast wilderness
And for the little lone tree at my bedroom window

Thank You, Lord
For psalms and songs that ring like a bell 
And for pacifying lullabies that are hummed when sleep in slow
For the great Miracle of the Offering of The Holy Mass
And for the crumb of this Miracle, received through the Holy Host

Thank You, Lord
For the Love of Heaven, the Light and the Angels
And for Your Son who descended unto this hostile world of ingratitude
For the people who carry their crosses patiently
And for my cross … which I couldn’t carry without Your assistance

Thank You, Lord
Do I deserve your warm and noble embrace? 
But you did show us one of Your Mysteries 
Although You are the Might and the Power
You fortify our little life with Your Love.

20.02.2007 Tuesday, before Ash Wednesday.

At our local church, the Most Holy Sacrament was put out all day. About 4pm, I was in front of the Most Holy Sacrament alone and the church was empty. During Adoration I banded over to Jesus the problems that I can’t manage myself and I ask Him for consolation. Then I heard loud and urging words in my heart, ’it is you who should console Me because people hurt Me. Console Me” – I heard several times. I asked how I can console You, Lord Jesus?’ I heard: console Me through the prayer, through penance, through fasting – He  replied. I said: there are people who love You. Then I heard: “where are they? If they loved me, they would be here in front of the Most Holy Sacrament!’
On the same day in the evening, a priest read a fragment of St. Faustina’s book on the radio. There is a quotation in this book about the so-called end of the carnival in 1937. St. Faustina saw the range of transgression committed then. She was horrified with this vision and she was surprised that mankind still existed nonetheless. Then she heard: you still exist thanks to the chosen souls, full of grace. She was overwhelmed with wonder.

Amazement

I offer my soul on the altar
During the Mass, like in the Holy Ark
And I ask: take care of me, Jesus
Speak to me every day
Then I hear a silent whisper that flows
Over the unknown waters, like the humming of the sea 
Maybe I will dwell in your heart
Like in the Ark
I will not take up too much space …
Maybe you will protect Me
From the world that is often so hostile to Me?
You will allow Me to lodge and rest here for a while 
Watching over My heart
 
I was astonished and very perturbed
My soul trembled with fear 
How is it possible, my dear Lord
That I, a sinner, can be Your shelter?
When I transmit my request to the altar today
I lay down my soul for Your wholesome protection
Your knowing look follows me trustfully
And a painful question sounds in my ears:
Is your heart ready to become My home?

When I clasp my hands

Today I fold my hands in prayer
Let them in communion give warmth to each other in this gesture
So much time has trickled through my fingers
While You wanted to sanctify me with Your grace
Yet I still possessed 
Problems like granite clods in my hands
With ambitious thought in my heart
That I could crush them without help

Today I know when I fold my hands in prayer
In this gesture so beseeching
That with Your grace, You, Yourself
Crush the granite that plights my palms
You turn the sadness of my ambition
Into the joy of humility or a child’s trust
You, Lord, pour the warmth of Your grace
Into my hands, as I pray today.

26.03.2007. The Feast of the Annunciation of the Most Holy Virgin Mary. Before the Mass I thought about love and hatred and how these feelings affect us. Love is like a spark that lights up the heart for God. It is like a torch that can be lit up, but the “material wick” should remain flammable (like in Nature). Wet wood doesn’t burn … The flame will go off. Our hearts must be “prepared” for the flame; must be “dried” from the moisture of our attachments, sins, evil feelings. Our souls must “pile up” Holy Communion, prayers, confessions - they must try their best to light up the flame of Love and hope.

Hatred and other vices explode like a missile (in war), and devastate the attacker and the attacked. Hatred has many “missiles”, it is a destructive force. Hatred is a “contagious” disease. Love is a healer and gives strength; It consumes even what is “wet” (sinful) when we put it into the “fire of Love” ever burning in us. True Love in its nature will “burn” evil, but hatred multiples evil.

Do you love me?

You asked Peter at the Galilee Sea, Lord
Three times:
Do you love me?
You also asked me in my life
Not once …
When I stop by the fountain of Your grace
For The Holy Spirit’s transfusion
There were years when my heart responded:
Yes, I love You
Silence reigned over my soul and mind
You asked at the moments of fear
Yes - my mind replied
My heart and my soul were apprehensive
You asked and waited, Jesus, like an earnest shepherd
You used a silver cup to pour The Holy Spirit
Drop after drop
The Eucharist after The Eucharist
You opened my eyes, You remedied my clogged ears
And Your patience and Your Love surrounded me
Like a hedge of beautiful roses
And the day came, like an undeserved grace 
My spirit my soul and my mind
Were united as one
And they sang in concordance three times
I love You, my Lord.

My Gethsemane

Once I heard You in silence
In a light blowing of the leaves
Among the words of a prayer
In solemn songs
And suddenly a loud noise drowned the serene scene
It fell like a thundering waterfall 
My heart shrank in dryness
And I was engulfed by the imposing world

I am holding out my hands toward silence
But I can hear loud voices
Strong wind numbs my thoughts
And my heart becomes rebellious
My tears, once so refined, defenseless
Are flowing down my face bitterly
Don’t let me get lost, Jesus
Please keep me with You …
In Gethsemane

Show me Your face, full of pain
And the sweat cascading down Your body
Let the black-bird take off me
The noise of this world
Please hold out Your excruciating palms
With the glass of bitterness from God.
And give courage to my mouth
To cry in despair, like You:
“Not My will, Father, but Yours
May it be”.

30.03.2007 Time has come when man has to defend God within himself, offering rewarding prayers. But we, while praying to God try to keep imploring, persisting and demanding …
Today, I prayed at the Stations of the Cross and I asked before the Mass, for taking care of me, and during the Mass, I suddenly heard a voice, ‘and maybe you will take care of Me? Take Me along with you to your home. I will take up little space in your heart. All I want is just a little prayer, silence, peace.’
Then I thought that such time comes when God wants us to take care of Him!

The cradle

How many drops of your blessed blood, Jesus
Have flowed down across my heart?
Now I know
My heart cries with tears of penance

How many drops of Your blood could be my food ?
Well, I didn’t feed myself with it
Now I know
And my anxious soul desires healing

I lay out my heart and my soul
At the altar
Like a cradle
For Your tears, Your blood

Like for the unborn children
And for the unfulfilled graces
I call for Mercy
Fill up my cradle,Jesus, with Your Mercy
And I will rock it with a song of penance.

14.04.2007. I woke up on Saturday morning with a strange feeling. I am alone at home but it seemed to me that somebody wanted to pass on some thought to me. During the next few minutes I felt great suffering that was not justified by any latest events. The suffering was so deep that I was suffocating and it was not a physical suffering but rather a deep spiritual one. I thought that if it lasted longer I would start crying desperately. Suddenly a thought ran through me like a breeze - this is the way souls in Purgatory suffer. They suffer because they didn’t accept the great Love of God here on earth. They missed It, or failed to notice It. Up there in Purgatory, they can see this great loss vividly.  Flames of fire surround these Purgatory souls - this is a great metaphor. They are rather the flames of pain that is penetrating like great sorrow over their egotistic hearts. This pain has a spiritual overtone and it lasts. We, here on earth, can soften it with our prayers, our intentions of the Mass.   

Our Calvary

We announce our own Calvary by shouting
And we start our life like defenseless, blind men
God puts back the miracle of our birth into our hands
Some are tender and intimate, others are as cold as a stone

There are Stations standing on the human Calvary
We must pass by each one, and never to return
There is joy, despair and tranquil paths
Only God knows the number of our Stations

We pick precious apples of life greedily
We use the orchards where devil is the master
And although their taste is sour, we still have free choice
Whether to choose God’s traces or get lost in darkness

On Calvary way, everyone is entitled
To have different paths and crosses, people and encounters
God designed for everyone, with Love and Faith
The track that Jesus followed before us

When the track is rugged, there are heavy crosses on it
We cry to God: have mercy on us  
We water our stumbles with prayers and warm tears
But the impatient heart waits for an answer

Sometimes a mysterious ray penetrates us
And a question thunders in the head like a waterfall
At which station cross were You standing, Jesus
When we, like the blind, were passing by?

Our eyes open, like an offered gift of grace
And our mouth is whispering a beseeching prayer:
Lord, please, put up a station for everyone, on his Calvary way
With the divine words that … God is Merciful. 

17.04.2007 Before the Mass I adored Jesus in The Most Holy Sacrament. I thought about what connects us here on earth with eternity of Heaven? Then I saw something like a little cloud, it had beautiful eyes. Then I heard in my heart, ‘this is a human soul?’ The soul with open eyes looks at God. The eyes of a soul – it’s a gift of God, it’s a communicant with Him. There are souls that have their eyes closed, asleep. Maybe God will open them with His grace some day I could see a road between the open eyes of the soul and God. There were obstacles on this road I call them “trash”. These are various distractions, objects, temptations that darken this road. The eyes suddenly become short-sighted and they see a blurred vision of the road to God. The task of man going along the road is his ability to shift them away; to understand that they are false. It requires strong faith and great grace to look at the world with the open eyes of the soul, vigilantly “clearing” the road to God, of the mischievous phantoms which try to teach us sinister philosophy, different from the one that is in the Gospel.

Request for faith

Sometimes I meet You, Jesus
In closeness so marvelous
That I can’t hide my tears of joy

Sometimes I hold out my hands to You
Like a child desiring protection  
And You disappear out of my sight

Sometimes I feel cold in my heart
As if you abandoned me
But my longing lingers on

How many tears will I shed?
How long will I hold out my hands to You?
How righteous will my longing remain?

So that You, Jesus, could strengthen my faith
In a silent, devoted Adoration
Without tears, cold heart and feeble longing

20.04.07. I often think about the sense of human suffering. It sometimes seems as if we suffer for no apparent reason. But I think that every suffering has a certain significance. Maybe it heightens our sensitivity. We don’t know God’s plans; we don’t know what burdens are offset by our suffering. We don’t know which and whose sins will be forgiven through our suffering, if we offer it sincerely, with a definite intention.

I also thought how difficult it is for a man to be “devoted” to Jesus. In spite of the acts of penance, we commit the same sins and mistakes although we want so much to achieve a higher level of spiritual atonement. I saw a picture of stairs, almost vertical (like a ladder). On top, there was the monstrance with The Most Holy Sacrament. The part of the stairs that was near the floor had railings on them but the part that was higher, didn’t have them. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked, calling for the light of The Holy Spirit. I heard an interesting answer. ‘The people who begin their spiritual way toward Jesus, toward Truth - need a great initial support, maybe from a prayer group or a charismatic priest or sometimes it is a grace of a swift conversion. The railings on the stairs are meant to be this “support”. Many people want to begin their “way to Truth”. They need the railings, that is, the people who will help, and accompany them on their difficult way. At the very beginning of the stairs, there are many difficulties and temptations to stop us from climbing these stairs, in spite of the “railings”. Once you step on them and start going up - you must fight for purity of your soul and you must trust that this is the only way. The saints who achieved a high degree of their spiritual development, don‘t need the support of the railings any more, they climb toward Jesus with faith and trust, staring into His domain. They don’t turn back and look for help of others. Their strength is in Jesus. They move on courageously, with no fear of falling down. ‘What is the value of the painstaking efforts for Jesus, I asked, of these who are beginning their way and these who are close to God? I heard in my heart, ‘Jesus puts His feet on all the steps of this “ladder”’? For Him - the important ones are both those who still hold on to the railings and those who keep moving on to Him courageously. He moves along all the rungs with the same Love.

Human being

Who is he?
He has have been weighed and valued
For centuries
By a scientific “eye”
But he is still non-measurable
He carries that secret like a burden
The mystery of the immortal soul 
And the question: believe it or deny it?
Man plods on, he changes the pace of the rhythm or stops
As if his legs were an obstacle
I look at him, I know him
He smiles
He has lived many smiles and woes of life
Maybe he learned the secret of man’s aspirations?
And humbled it with prayers
He welded it with the Rosary, like a ships anchor
And covered it with an old-fashioned coat
He has been dragging it for dozens of years
I see his faith, it leads him, hand in hand
It is as trustworthy as day, and night
Hope supports him when the heart ticks
Like a broken watch
Hope and faith lead him
Towards Love
So that Love … weighed his soul
And proudly answer the question:
And answered the question:
‘Who are you, man?’

25.04 2007 It was three p.m. and I prayed the Chaplet to the Divine Mercy. My husband just came back after a visit to his acquaintances who had health problems. I decided to devote the last part of the Chaplet to their intentions. Later in the afternoon, we were going to visit our family in the suburbs. During the last part of the Chaplet, I heard in my heart: these ill people need a special Mass for The Divine Mercy - too few people pray for them, we assumed.

I finished the Divine Mercy Chaplet and retired to bed with great difficulty. I have an impression that “somebody” spins me around like a windmill. The bed circulates around the room like a merry-go-round. I was scared and felt even worse in the sitting position.  I couldn’t move and when I tried to stand up, the ceiling and the floor seemed to whirl. First I thought that I had some problem with my eyes, like a damaged eye-ball. It lasted about thirty minutes. When my husband saw my condition, he decided to call those acquaintances. He told them about the necessity of Holy Mass for them, and we stressed that it should be intended for the Divine Mercy. As soon as he uttered the words, ’The Divine Mercy, on the phone, everything came back to normal with me. It felt as if “somebody” took a “hood” off me, which was the cause
of these awesome strange whirling. My husband came back to my room and was shocked when he saw me rise from the bed well-balanced,although moments ago, he saw me almost paralyzed. I still had some trepidation
in praying but I overcame this soon.
I assumed that Satan wanted to frighten me to desist from praying for spiritually afflicted souls in distress.

The answer

I prayed:

Move the suffering away from me, Lord
But it came along regardless
As if the prayer got stuck in an ethereal
And the Heavenly messenger was going on foot

I prayed:
Be in my anguish, Lord
And You were indeed
As if the singing hosts of angels carried my supplication
On their fiery and swift chariots

I prayed
Silently demanding, ‘Why me?’
Bowing in humility and defiant in rebellion
Yet You waited
With an answer too difficult

I prayed
And You waited for my rebellion and humility
To fly up high  
Like the birds for the offering
And You waited for the silence of the heart

I prayed
And You answered in psalms and chanting
That suffering teaches what love is
And it reaches The Heart of the Son
As the offering at the altar

I prayed:
How many more rebellions, how much humiliation will I go through?
So that I could accept Your intricate answer 
A sunray suddenly lit up the altar, like a sign
And beyond the windows, the tears of rain were falling down.

13.05.2007 During the Holy Mass, the priests raised up The Holy Host (two halves). I thought that the Host looked like a sail. In order to “flow”, there must be a blow of … The Holy Spirit. Lord Jesus is the might, the strength and the gift in this Host. If we don’t call The Holy Spirit, then we won’t flow toward the Truth, toward God.

After a few days I felt an inner necessity to pray to The Most Holy Trinity. I sent various words of prayer spontaneously to Each of The Holy Persons. I heard in my heart: ’praise The Holy Trinity with the words that are deeply hidden in your soul, with the words coming out of your heart, so that each word reflects the state of your spirit, so that your prayer may not ”flow” smoothly but was strongly, imprinted on your soul. Carefully consider, meditate every word that you convey to The Persons of The Most Holy Trinity passionately.

After three days of such a consideration I tried to follow the “advised” meditation. I asked what God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit expect from us. When I mentioned God father, I saw a big inscription, ‘humility;’ when I mentioned Son of God, the inscription illuminates the word, ‘thanksgiving’. With the Person of The Holy Spirit, the word; ‘prayer’, showed up. The prayer as a cordial dialogue with God. The prayer that is spoken with love, without confusion and bias.

I Am

There is such love …
Held in the hand like a blooming flower
It dries without water or soil nourishment
It loses its petals, its beauty
There is such love …
It clings to the heart affectionately

It beats with its rhythm
It loses its freedom like a prisoner
How greedy human love is …

There is such Love …
It doesn’t wither from people’s hands
it looks for the heart’s noble patronage to be a guest
Even as a prisoner
Stretched over on the cross
Closed in the Tabernacle, It whispers silently
Sometimes It shouts: I Am!

The blue curtain

It flutters by the window 
On one side is my world
On the other, is the world with the blue curtain
I am waiting by my window 
For a light breeze
I plead to the Angel; Please,
Hold up the curtain with your wing
Set apart a fine space for the soul that is hungry
For Might and Love

I am holding out my hands with crumbs of prayer
Let them fly in thanksgiving and beseeching
At this little moment of exhibition  
My world is touching the world
Behind the blue curtain 
And I stay in merciful silence …

A gentle request is breaking the silence
It’s hardly audible
It’s like a ray that penetrates with pain:
Relay the ardent prayer in your hand

For those who bolted the windows of their souls
With the shutters of indifference
Let them open these windows for the song about God’s Love 
The Love that is behind the blue curtain.

 
17.05.2007. After the Holy Mass, the priest takes The Most Holy Sacrament to the side chapel. When people knelt for Adoration, I said to Jesus, ‘there are so many people who adore You.’ Then I heard a severe voice in my heart, ‘but how many people offend Me at the same time. There are more of these than those who praise Me.

An old man and God

He looked for small pleasures in life
Fortune didn’t give him a chance for the big ones
But he still waited to be a winner
Like a typhoon which changes
Soil into gold
And he, the old man, will give ransom for his death
White Lady began to turn over
The calendar sheets so fast
Too fast for the old man
To take up new hope

He began to hear his mother’s lullabies
Long time forgotten  
He saw a boy who loved God  
The war came and cut up this love
It dispersed it into small fragments
The old man assumed that somebody
Would have them put together
By means of a miracle …
He suspended prayers and Masses until later
Until his knees got stiffened with age
They hardly carried the weary body
His sad soul, like a clock’s second hand in the clock of life
Was ticking stubbornly, reminding him …

You still have time … God is waiting
He is still waiting …

19.05.2007. Early in the morning, after a prayer to the Holy Spirit, I felt a strong communion of my soul with God. This feeling was even painful. At the same time, it occurred to me that each soul is connected with God, like a child’s umbilical cord in the mother’s womb. God feeds us with many graces through this “spiritual” navel cord, provided that we want to use them prudently and we don’t selfishly block its passage. Many people tighten up this navel cord with their hearts (souls) and can’t use these graces. It can be caused by the influence of man’s will, social problems, numerous sins, but man still exists in God’s log book. And every opening-up to God, brings about new graces. Sometimes we have an impression that God is too generous for the newly converted sinners, while He simply “stopped”  intended graces, and He waited for the conversion of man. He waited for the “relaxation of his clenched fists” that were

blocking the ties with God.

White coat

I spread myself on earth like a white coat
Earthly nails fasten me to the grass
Sometimes a wind blows softly
And it moves the white coat
Life corrodes the earthly nails slowly
And important things become trivial
I permit with the power of undeserved grace
To make the white coat soar
Toward Heaven
I look for You, Jesus …
There are still indelible marks of those rusty nails
On my white coat
 
I am still looking for them, sometimes …
But my soul has already experienced the beautiful flight
Toward You, Lord
I feed my soul with the crumbs of Your bread 
I teach her how to pray
So that she didn’t get lost
Let her fly through the clouds like a dove of paradise
Looking for the kiss of Holy Mary.

To the Holy Mother

Oh, Mother of  services in May
In churches and at small chapels
You - filled with goodness
Like a font with the Holy Hosts
Inexhaustible
I ask for one drop of Your goodness
For my life
Let it extinguish the pile of bitterness
That I have been gathering for years
Made up of the sins of temptation and conceit
Of moments without prayer
Let Your flame of redemption light up in me
Inflamed by a drop of Your goodness

And don’t let the tears of a dark night
Fuel it up with corruption
I beseech You, Virgin Mary, for a drop of Your goodness
Let it be like a pearl in the shell of my heart
Let it be an immortal memory
Of The Most Holy Mother.

31.05.2007. Feast of Visitation of the Most Holy Virgin Mary
.During the Holy Mass, I prayed for graces for my soul and my heart. After the Communion, I heard in my heart, ‘you are like a little sparrow that I can only feed with little crumbs, a big loaf could do harm to a little sparrow, but these tiny crumbs (Holy Communions), can expand you to large size or spirituality, and you can bake a big loaf then.’ Is it possible that the great grace or gift that we strive for, consists of little daily gifts or graces that will manifest to a “big loaf” some day, when we have grown spiritually to be able to bake a big loaf? I think that it is also important to appreciate small things which can be bountiful graces in our lives but we often shun them ignorantly, looking for great gifts and emotions.

Castles

Only children build castles of sand
Only they hope
That rain or tide will not wash them away,
For when morning comes
A prince with a princess will live in them

Only children believe in castles of sand
Only children still rebuild again
Destroyed dreams, trampled castles

Adults don’t trust castles made of sand
They need steel, bricks and cement
To erect their dream adobe
And when they build their castle
They dread that someone may destroy it
They expel hope
As a material that can’t last long
They don’t believe that in their strong houses
A prince and a princess can dwell.

07.06.2007. Feast of Corpus Christi. During The Holy Mass, I was surprised to feel a big cup with wine nestled at my chest. The wine was as thick as blood. At this moment I felt great heat, especially in the heart (as if someone poured scalding coffee down my throat and I started to sweat profusely. I was afraid to touch it, or hug it, thinking that it would be a sacrilege. I thought that it was the Cup from the altar, meant for the priests and it should not be in my possession. Then I heard ‘I Am meant for each one of you.’

The unusual house

This is a house of no walls
I move around it, following God’s will
I don’t run against the walls
I don’t hurt my body
The sun shines brightly
The rays don’t go out on the walls
The wind sows the seeds freely like friendly children
When night falls, the stars look in curiously
I don’t feel perturbed when it snows or rains
I don’t demand for protection from You, Lord
The darkness that You send, Lord
I change into hope, and a shining star
The rain washes the tears off my cheeks
The frost freezes my smile
Which is so precious at times of despair
When the cold of human hearts teaches humility
I love this house without walls
But it is not protected
And is an impediment to Your plans, Lord
I have no windows that You must wait for
When I am ready to open
I don’t pay taxes to anybody
It is You, Lord, Who send me the bills
Sometimes they are so high
As if You believed that I am capable to pay them off.

12.06.2007. I thought: how does it happen that some people achieve perfection and are worthy, but others just live on and nothing bothers them? I was curious to know how God assesses people, and with what criteria. Then I heard a witty answer to my doubts; ‘a bird will not roar like a lion, and a lion will not chirp like a bird!’
A few days later, while I was at The Holy Mass, I heard a strange phrase, ‘I offer you My loneliness on the cross’ I didn’t understand this message although I know that Jesus as man, was alone on the cross, during His Passion. Each of us is lonely during his “passing away to another world”, even if his close ones accompanied him. The next Mass helped me reconsider this phrase. Man exists in his body (emotions, feelings,  living, social and cultural status) but his soul belongs to God. And only in his loneliness, man stands before God and presents Him his life. God is the Father of our soul. Man has a choice whether to devote himself to this life on earth completely or not? People, ideologies and feelings may fail him badly. Then he suffers and criticizes, he feels “betrayed” by mankind. When he realizes that his soul belongs to God,
then he “gives back his wisdom, love, feelings and help to the world. But he doesn’t forget that his soul belongs to God, and he can’t “sell” it to the world for his personal goals. Here we have this dilemma of loneliness of man and his standing in Truth before God. God has given each man a peculiar jewel - soul and we come back to God with this jewel. We mustn’t mortgage it for the world’s vain treasures. We must give back to God what is His property … This loneliness of Jesus on the cross reminds us that although He redeemed us with His Passion, each of us separately, possesses and disposes of this beautiful gift from God, this soul jewel and should present it back to Him. Not through the medium of others but on our own, standing in front of Him. We are responsible for the bequeathed to us jewel; individually. The world will not excuse us “how much” we pawned it, to enjoy life on earth. We forget to be grateful to God for this jewel (soul) that is unique. Therefore, it is lonely. We try to attract the world and we suffer when others take something from this world. We feel poor. We forget about the richness of our soul where power comes from. This power is superior and strong because God Himself is its Master. He doesn’t forget about the jewel that He offered us at birth. Sometimes He “helps” us regain it by “taking away” some joys of this world from us for our own good. But when we are not able to “carry” this heavy jewel by ourselves, we scrape of all its richness, and then materially give away value of our soul to the world; we sell ourselves to others and quite often we want to forget that this loneliness with the jewel - is our greatest treasurer of revival and thanksgiving.

 
Lost words

You answer with silence, Jesus
To so many words that were sent to You
As if you wanted to check how much  I remember
During my incessant conversations, long forgotten

I collect Your words today
From the days when they were falling defenselessly
Against the silence of the stone
Which dwells in me

I put them together as a beseeching song
Relating them to my life
I would like to rephrase them in my songs
Of beautiful hymns, but my vocal chords are blocked

I am standing before You in  silence
I gather Your words in my heart
And if I missed some
Show me the place, don’t be silent anymore

Show me where this word is
I will run after it, grab and cuddle it
I want so much to create out of them
The prayer of a sinner, Lord.

 
27.06.2007. Feast of the Holy Mother of Perpetual Help

To The Mother of Consolation

I am not an angel, full of sweetness
I don’t have clean robes, unstained with sin
I don’t have a mouth full of prayer
Or the eyes staring at You, constantly
My heart is often filled with bitterness
My robes are washed in daily life
My mouth speaks unpleasant words
The eyes see evil that is ever present
I am only a helpless child
Against the world that goes round and round
Though I wish to put the dazzling beam out of my eyes
It is stuck there, like a hawk, ready to jump
When I have no strength to fight any more
I kneel before You, Mary
And staring at Your lips and Your eyes
I want to seek refuge under Your robes
At these moments, I beseech You, Mother
To give me Your tender hand and console my ravaged soul
And when I rise from my knees and resume my pilgrims trail
Follow me along the way that I must follow
I don’t ask You to shower roses  there
The roses of happiness and human consolation 
I only ask You
My beloved Mother to give me Your caring hand
So that we could go along together.

 
06.07.2007. Before the Mass, I thought about something that I haven’t thought about for a long time: why does evil rule in this world? During the act of the Offering, I heard a very logical answer in my heart: good is eternal, evil has its termination, its end. This answer was enough for me - one sentence, but how helpful in clearing my doubts. I was considering the words  which were a little old-fashioned. Why did I hear the word: extermination? The word “termination” contains a wider meaning in my opinion. In God’s plans, there is “place” for evil on earth, but it is God who decides when it is curtailed. He has power over it; He permits it to exist for some purpose (transformation of man, of the world, of nations). And only God knows its limits. Evil has a “bottom”; it is not eternal, while good is eternal, it is infinite!

 
The Land of Trust

I look for The Land of Trust
The Land that I enter without fear
The Land without treacherous, hurting rocks  
Without menacing deep waters where good sinks
The Land where people live in harmony
Their eyes are happy and gentle
Their hands are full of gifts  
The Land where downfalls and injuries are superficial

This Land is covered
With a carpet of moss and sweet scented flowers
Man talks to  man there
Like a child, anxious to hear his father
Where are you, my Land of Trust?
Are you a dream only or a reality
My heart longs for you indeed
But my legs stand fast

Lend me your wings, my angel
Let me fly up, even in my dream
High up, toward my Land of Trust
Don’t be deterred, I will give your wings back
I know that I am not an angel
I am desperate to feed my earth bound soul
With trustful hope
So that it doesn’t stop dreaming and believing
In this beautiful Land of Trust.

 
09.07.2007. During the Mass, I stared at the picture of The Holy Mother, there was peace in my heart, and I was free from any confusing thoughts. And suddenly in front of my eyes, I saw the face of Jesus with beautiful, light, curly hair. His eyes were covered with a big, black band. I exactly recall the outline of His beautiful hair and the light that reflected from it. I thought: why are His eyes covered? Somewhere in my heart, it occurred to me that Jesus wants to point out to me that man’s eye-sight may distract man in understanding God. We can “evaluate” others by means of human aesthetics. On the other hand, Jesus with the “band”, not seeing, seemed to me to be the One Who will go to each one of us if we only want to receive Him. He shows His “readiness” to go any place, to go to anybody, with no exception, if only our hearts felt the need of His presence. He doesn’t choose “the prettier”, “the better”, “the wiser” ones. He comes to an encounter with man with the grace of offering Himself. What we will do with this “encounter” - it depends on our heart, our will. Jesus is always ready for the encounter; He is like the “blind-man”, defenseless in the presence of man. We can “bring” Him to our heart or to another man at any time (even in the situation of a great downfall or sin). He will lift us up, greet us, and heal us. All we need is to believe in it.

Oh, Jesus, who art blind in the face of our offences and Merciful for our downfalls – please, convert us in this “encounter of the hearts” which is more precious than “the encounter of the eyes”.

Grace

The grace of God looks for the heart of man
God wants to lay His gifts in man’s cradle
When people’s mouths sing psalms
They become a beautiful lullaby for the Virgin Mary

Man’s heart is like a drop of water in this world
It is like a pearl of the Rosary
When he sincerely whispers one Hail Mary
The whole Rosary flows down the golden thread

When man asks for a slice of bread, for trust and faith
Looking into Her eyes
The Holy Mother feeds him with a loaf
And fills him up with the food of love

When our mouths are thirsty
They desire some nectar, a drop of enlivening Spirit
Then we have a downpour of bountiful gifts
And it’s hard to hold  them in the hands

How bitter the tears of despair are
How poor and empty the heart of man is
When his blind eyes can not see
The graces abundantly flowing down from Heaven

But one Hail Mary is enough
And a look at the cross with adoration
Then graces will flow into the heart that’s empty
And Mary will wipe the tears with Her blue Heavenly veil.

2O.O7.2OO7. After the Holy Mass, I got a subject in my heart to consider: time. What is time to man and what is it to God? Human time is arranged in a straight line - hours, years flow on. We try to fill our human time with our own plans and aspirations. We are happy when we can “bend” time according to our own needs. But can we be masters of our time of life? The situations that we didn’t plan - occur, the “quality” of human time changes. What we planned becomes unimportant. Among our daily events, other events begin to appear, which change our spirituality. For example, we decide to change something in life, in our human time, make it our new way to God. When we don’t succeed, we come back to the previous “human time”. But there comes the moment, like a flash, when the grace flows down on us, like a gift that changes us completely. And we didn’t plan it. Some didn’t even think about it. Suddenly somebody gets rid of a long lasting addiction; somebody becomes a strong believer although he was indifferent about God. The “time of God” entered our human life, the time of transforming our hearts and souls. It was God Who decided to liberate man from “his time”, He granted him the grace of changing his life. God decided its high time that man went along the way where our desires are aimed at God. And it is He Who becomes the clock by which we count time, looking for the will of God and not our own will.

Human suffering

It has a human face
The eyes are closed with pain
Sometimes they are wide open with surprise
Like a heart that beats too fast
And at last ... it dies

Suffering, in the beginning
Is sprinkled with hot tears
As if it wanted to dissolve it
Into oblivion
Suffering that lasts
Changes tears into icicles
Hurting the soul and the body

Suffering needs time
To get spilled and get melted
And it needs the prayer
Which changes human suffering
Into the memory
Like  once a beautiful, but now withered flower
Which is like the memory of human suffering.

 
22.07.2007. When I looked at the people who were praying during the Mass, I thought that each of us is like a book. Sometimes it is thick because it is themed on many events of life, in other cases, it is thin - with only few events. Every book is of value to God. He knows its title. Maybe He wrote an individual scenario for each of us? Do we act it out? Do we record only trifling evens and sensationalized in large print volume! Isn’t it worth “reading” the events of other people, their experiences? Maybe we wouldn’t get lost when we stand before God with “our book”; He will show us the “note” about fidelity, honesty. But we didn’t notice it. Maybe God entitled our book (life) with a beautiful word like: the call, the courage, the heroism? And actually, we didn’t fulfill the call, we changed courage into cowardice. Maybe we should read our own book more carefully and “look for” the word of God in it. Especially, when we know that we won’t receive another “book”. Everyone is entitled to one volume …

 My poems

 My words flow, arranged in poems
Out of my hot heart and longing soul
They are like birds in their first flight, often clumsy
They look for the truth, how to fly higher

I let out my words and put them as the offering
For the love of the Trinity and The Holy Mother
If any man wants to hug them
They will be like a guest in the heart, in loneliness

As long as I don’t lack words in the cage of my heart
I will praise The Lord and ask for graces
For those whose words fell asleep soundly
And it’s too hard for them to say: I love You, Lord

Perhaps I count on a miracle, a tiny one?
Then the bars which locked love, will break to smithereens
And the sleeping words will flow out in prayer
With the tune more melodic than the words of my poems.

Sin

It falls into man’s heart
Like a bird with broken wings
It tries to be a guest
And demands food

We feed it with an excuse
For weak will, coveting, pride
And the bird grows stronger
The wings mend astray

The man’s soul beseeches: get it out
Leave it in the cage of a confessional
Clear your heart of sin
Let it breathe with a pure rhythm

A beautiful tune will touch us
Like a memory of a child’s prayer
A friendly smile will embrace good words
Then the bird of sin flaps its wings in discord

When it plagues the heart with pain, we look for medicine  
Collecting the treasures of the Divine words of the Gospel
We then feed the sin with seeds of love
Sin is afraid of them like of poison

The hurt soul appeased with love looks desperately
For the Gift of Mercy from above
On Its beautiful rays, like on the wings
The soul kneels at the confessional

Jesus - the soul asks:
Give hope for freedom from sin
Give my soul silver wings
So that it could fly up to Love.

27.07.2007. Friday Morning Rosary prayer on the radio. I heard a woman caller crying miserably and incoherently speaking. I heard a voice in my heart: this woman’s life lacks the presence of God in the people who surround her. I start to think about her complaint and I felt as if someone wanted to explain this situation to me lucidly. We are constantly on the run. Engaged in our problems, we have no time to “receive” other people into our heart or patiently listen to them or accept them for what they are or look for the causes of their suffering in life. Sometimes it’s nice to spare a few moments to hear a man in despair, soliciting relief. Isn’t our lending a hand to this man a worthy prayer? Maybe then there would be less crying during a Rosary prayer?

On the same day, during the Stations of the Cross prayer, which was devoted to the family intentions, I heard a sentence, ’we offer You, Jesus, young married families able to carry the cross in harmony.’ I thought that we talk too little about it. We want to have only joy out of our marriages, hardship breaks us down. We can fall under “the cross” of marriage, but at the same time, we must be aware that we can rise - like Jesus during His Stations of the Cross. There are too many of us who surrender too easily. Can we run away from the cross?

Penance

It sits by a dark road
Of our life
It has the face of sin
That we want to forget about
It has been mute since birth
We try to bypass it
With our eyes diverted
Then penance gets up and overtakes us
It wakes up sad music in the heart
Tears - in the eyes
The conscience shouts like a child
Awakened by a bad dream
It doesn’t concede to be passed by
Even if we hasten our steps
Penance is like a niggling thorn
You must approach it

And hold out your hand
Admit that it’s yours
You say, ‘get up, let’s go together’
With prayer, with good deeds
We will bring reparation
To those whom we did harm with our sin.

09.08.2007. Reminiscence of St. Theresa Benedictine Stein of the Cross. There is Adoration of The Most Holy Sacrament in our local church after the morning Mass and some people pray The Chaplet to the Divine Mercy.
I decided to devote it to those who “don’t have time” to commiserate with Jesus for their negligence. I heard in my heart, ‘My Love is the same for each of you, I wait for each of you’. Jesus and the faithful, His children, are in harmony? I mused.

Jesus wants to give His love to those who come for it, they behave like loving children before their father or mother. They show love, they are grateful for it. But does earthly mother or father stop loving their ungrateful children? They wait for their good word for years. Jesus is no comparison ... (The parable of prodigal son). Jesus also remembers those who forgot about Him. He waits and loves. His love is never exhausted. He waits for the sinners who are often afraid of confession or coming close. But it was He who came to this world to save sinners because we all are such. The saints know Love and Its value, sinners are often afraid to stand before Jesus, but even those who stare at Him also commit sins. We are such and Jesus came to “such people”. I understood that the Chaplet to the Divine Mercy is a great gift of recommending people who are “afraid” to show Him their love – to Jesus. It’s a gift of recommending the ungrateful children that He waits for, the same way as an earthly father and mother wait patiently for the love of their earthly, ungrateful children.

The Truth

I look for the way to Your hands, Lord
Awkwardly and impatiently
Prayer soars me like the wings of a dove
The burden of sin weighs me down to earth
You gave me free will as a dowry

You allotted a place for me for the pilgrimage
Like a lost child with the Decalogue Table
As the memory of Your love
I look for the return way
To Your hands, Lord

The pilgrims of my time
Make corrections on Your Table
What is stony and heavy
They change into a scroll
And write their own laws …

I gather the left-over pieces painstakingly
The pieces at the Moses’ Table
I try to put together Your Truth, Lord
Sometimes I hurt my hands
Sometimes I hurt my soul

As the years go by
It’s still very far to complete it all
But the sanctity of Your hands
Of Your love
Lifts me up from my downfalls.

12.O8.2OO7. During Sunday Mass, I thought about a woman sitting in front of me. She kept looking sideways. It felt irritating to me. Suddenly I heard in my heart one sentence that taught me “cordial” tolerance, ‘Be tolerant to others, as I Am tolerant with you.’

Leaving the church, I saw some beggars. They sat on a bench counting solicited money. I heard some vulgar curses used by them and I felt great annoyance. How is it possible, Jesus that these people can stay in church and behave like “demons”? Does evil go on in the church too, and does it have the boldness to attack people inside?

For a moment, I forgot about this question but received an answer sooner during the Mass: Satan dwells in the human heart. With “such hearts” some people bring Satan into the church. So it is very important to “enter” the church with love, forgiveness …

 
The street-cross

I love You most in the rain
When You hang on the cross
Lonely and defenseless
In the street bustle
Rain washes dust off Your body
And off the artificial flowers
Under Your feet
People under umbrellas
Don’t raise their heads 
Their hands are too busy
With the shopping bags
Their heads, busy with thoughts
They don’t hail You
You are like a part of the city landscape
Like another house …
Defenseless at the crossroads 
And often, very lonesome
Like many of us, passersby
Lost in the city’s indifference.

 
21.08.2007. Pilgrimage to Banneux, Belgium.

We had a Holy Massin the chapel of the Holy Mother of Meditation. The chapel was very small, there was a big cross mounted over the altar, with a golden silhouette of Jesus on it. I noticed that the arms of Jesus were not sticking to the horizontal beam, they hovered a little over it. It seemed that the artist, while creating “golden” Jesus, did not “adjust” His arms to the cross. I asked in my heart: Why are You, Jesus, so shiny, golden, and almost hovering over the cross? I felt concerned by this cross with Jesus. During the Holy Mass, in meditation, I “heard” an answer: contemporary people “gild” Me; they don’t want to see my wounds, my pain. They want to see me as a beautiful symbol, tradition, but not as someone who suffers every day.

The chapel with the picture of the Holy Mother of the Poor in Banneux.

In this successive pilgrimage to the Holy Mother of the Poor, I devoted some time to praying. I dedicated this pilgrimage to the intentions of the Holy Mother; I put aside all my requests. During my prayer I had a feeling of great gratitude for being privileged to be in this beautiful place again. In this sanctuary one can feel unusual euphoric peace and individual strong ties with Mary. Maybe it is caused by the modest-looking chapels, located in the park; and a nearby hospital with seriously ill patients. I had an impression that the Holy Mother of the Poor is waiting for everyone in a modest chamber, and listening … During the prayer, with my heart full of gratitude, I “devoted myself” to Mary. And then, as if with the humming of the wind, I heard a voice, ‘I shall take care of you ...’

 I was ecstatic and enormously grateful because, during this pilgrimage, I never came to Mary with my personal problems. I wanted to devote the austerity of this pilgrimage to Her intentions. Especially when you see seriously ill patients in their wheelchairs, moving around us, along the alleys - their pain so visible. Their caretakers dressed in white aprons, looking like angels when they bring them to the Spring of Mary. I understood the message that came to me. Mary - the Nurse takes care of people, but we also should “devote ourselves” to Her Care. It is like in hospital, where we are taken care of. And it cannot be just a moment, with a light genuflection and a short prayer. We must pray to Mary every day, with trust and faith, asking for the remedy for our soul and body.

 Hidden treasure

I thought that love for You, Jesus
Is flowing down like fire and water
With a cascade of sparks and waterfalls
And is as violent as a storm
It overturns old trees which are our sins
It brings back light after darkness
Like grace that we don’t deserve …

My love for You came in silence
It stood by me like angelic protection
It paused my thoughts, my time
And surrounded me with warmth
A strange hand dropped
A little pearl into my heart
I keep it like hidden treasure
It sets afire when I think of You
And sometimes it gets cold
When I yield to the world’s caprices
Then it pulsates with pain of woe
Hidden, invisible, like love without words
It radiates with thoughts, prayers, and bends the knees
It continually searches for You, Jesus …

 
The Holy Mass on Chevremont hill.

There stands the miraculous cross, before which the authoress of “The Message to the Little Souls” was praying. At one moment I saw the picture of this cross, and below the cross, there were flowers, grains - rambling toward Jesus. Jesus on the cross “saw” ears of grain, flowers that were growing toward Him. Under the cross, there were people kneeling and “sowing seed” - as little as our prayers, requests and resolutions. But only Jesus “saw” their final growth … a beautiful flower or an ear of grain. Sometimes we don’t realize that our “little love” for Jesus – gratefully and faithfully, can produce a beautiful flower or an ear of grain.

 
When Heaven descends

There is such a hill in Belgium, Chevremont
Lord Jesus sanctified it … with The Message
Margaret has written down everything
Jesus called her a little soul, a daisy
For many years, every August
In a big tent
People have prayed here, for peace
In the world and in people’s hearts
Just like Jesus wished it to be
And just on this very day
Heaven descends to the Earth
And beautiful Jesus of Chevremont
Blesses the world with the hands of a bishop
Holy Mother of the Poor from nearby Banneux
Sits in the lodge of priests

The believers’ mouths whisper their prayers
In many tongues of the world
The long-served tent is like a chapel
That was built with the hands of angels
This is the time when Heaven touches the Earth
And visits the sacred
Green hill of Chevremont.

 
The Cathedral of Holy Mother in Luxembourg.

It is beautiful, rich, full of eager tourists with cameras. There are rather few people who pray extensively, while more visitors just look around the richly decorated interior. There was always someone with a camera or a loud appraisal that “interrupts” me in my meditation. Holy Mother as a beautiful figure (I associate it with “golden” Jesus). Well-off people from the west take photos of themselves with Holy Mother. They were in this particular place because many hundreds of years of existence gave extra souvenir value to this temple. I pray. ‘Oh, the Most Holy Mother, please remain in our hearts, and not only in our photos’ …

 
The children of Mother of Grief

In Your eyes, Mother of Grief
There is pebbles of sins of ours
You dissolve them with your tears
And bring them to Your Son, asking for mercy

Your hands, Mother of Grief
Are waiting for requests and promises of the sinners
With faith and love; You reach out to them
And bestow Holy Memory and gifts upon us all

Your heart, Mother of Grief
Is entangled with thorns of ungrateful children
In spite of the pain, you cuddle them with relief
Waiting patiently for moments of mutual love

You stand, Mother of Grief, like a living statue
On the way of every man
And we tread along the traces of Your painful tears
Blinded with our own tears …

The Abbey of the Clysters in Clervaux, Luxembourg.

It is beautiful, simple, monumental, archaic looking. This is the place for profound prayer. But the reality is to continue our pilgrimage relentlessly and move on, we could not stay here much longer.

A very modest place for the Adoration of the Most Holy Sacrament, it was sparsely furnished. While approaching this place I could feel embracing poignant warmth. I knelt down lacking words of prayer, I just wanted to be in this place and submit myself to “the breath of Jesus”, adore Him without words. A few minutes passed but it felt like I could remain like this for many hours without words, and emotions. It was a very profound feeling. I thought that if I gave in to it totally, the other pilgrims could have a delayed departure. “I eventually pulled myself” out of this state thanks to the will of my mind. The longing remains …

The Holy Time

Life is like every day tripping
To the hourly chime of a clock
And flipping of the calendar sheets
Daily life rotates like the Earth
Giving light of joy and darkness of sorrow
It pushes you forward irresistibly
As if it were afraid to die …

I know the place with no calendars and nervous clocks
The place of power and contemplation
Protecting you from intimidating time
Without the bedlam of infectious bazaar of the world
The place
Changing daily life into a feast
Where hope is joined with love 
And faith sees the invisible
The soul feels the touch in her unsatisfied longing
Words lose their meaning, even those heart-felt ones
During the Holy Adoration, on our knees
When silence becomes a dialogue with eternity.

 

Pilgrimage to Italy – 24.09.07

My great desire was to pray before the wonderful Countenance of Jesus of Manoppello. When I reached this place, I couldn’t turn my eyes away from this relic. In spite of a great crowd of pilgrims, I fell into a strange silence; I was all engulfed in the adoration of Jesus. There were words that “were coming” to my heart, as if Jesus was briefing me, ‘you look for My Countenance, but I am in your soul. It is you who put the barrier between Me and the worldly things. You expect Me in Manoppello, to be visible, as if you were afraid to reach the depth of your soul and see Me there. I reflect My Countenance like a photo on the film of your soul and you should look for Me there. My Countenance is not a work of art, although some treat it like that. It gives a chance of transforming your life, it is like a lost photo in the album of faith ... You should find clear space in you and My Countenance will be there. Sometimes I reach as far as “the grave of sin” in order to show “My Countenance”.’

I was particularly struck by the last statement. Jesus doesn’t abandon sinners, even those who reached the “bottom of sinfulness”. If a sinner wants to change his life, then the “Countenance of Jesus” is reflected at the bottom of sinfulness. It always waits like a forgotten photo, which was cast away long ago, and was lost among other photos from the life that was marked with sin. The Countenance of Jesus of Manoppello converts people. I strongly believe that.

I asked Jesus to be with us, even for a moment although it looked impossible because there were so many pilgrims. Then I prayed for a moment and felt strange peace. When I opened my eyes, I saw, to my surprise, that I was almost alone in front of the Countenance of Jesus. Beside me, there were only two women kneeling, engulfed in prayer, like silent angels, honoring the Countenance of Jesus. In my opinion, it was a little miracle because it lasted only a few minutes which seemed almost impossible with crowds of pilgrims at that time.

 The next day we are in Rome, in the Basilica of St. Peter. There was Adoration in the side chapel. The chapel was rich in gold. A thought occurred to me: there were such opulent and golden ornamentations around me and it was hard for me to concentrate. Then I heard in my heart: sometimes material, dazzling splendor is like bars for the heart of man. I thought that these bars may distract and intimidate the thirsty heart of man. Is it possible that the true contact between God and man was lost in rich dispositions? While observing the pilgrims who were visiting the Basilica, I wondered how many of them would experience similar conversion in their hearts. The pews in the chapel of Adoration weren’t filled.

 Jesus of Manoppello

Staring at Your Countenance
I show You my soul, with the scroll of life
And for the grace so visible, Lord, I thank You
I can still improve the outline of my soul
I can still straighten the curved lines of my life
I can still register Your Words, Jesus
In my heart, so that it throbs
To the rhythm of Your divine desires
I can still kneel in a beseeching prayer
And stare at Your ever knowing eyes
I, the lost pilgrim that is often stumbling in his world
Can place  my soul before Your Countenance
Take off the cover, Lord, that separates love
From the world of the mortals and the palace of the saints
Give us benediction that flows with inspiration out of Your eyes
That our encounter will last till eternity
Carve Your Countenance, Jesus of Manoppello
With a flash of holy light that flows from The Spirit
So that my soul will carry It  through all my life
As a holy relic, as a gift from God.

 
05.10.2007. The first day after the pilgrimage, at The Holy Mass in my parish. Maybe these are the fruits of the pilgrimage because I “hear” many sentences in my heart, as if someone were giving me a teaching: this blue curtain from your poem is like faith. If your faith is strong, the curtain becomes transparent, you see more, you feel God’s presence much stronger. Faith that is weak, doubtful - this is the curtain that doesn’t let the light from God’s kingdom through. The sinner, who doesn’t believe in God, is separated from God’s reality, is shrouded in darkness! The kingdom of God and His Love are ever close to you; only the people who are without faith, don’t feel this closeness. Faith is a gift, a grace that we should pray for and then The Holy Spirit will illuminate our soul’s curtain and the world of eternity will touch our world of mortals.

 
Happiness

I thought that happiness
Is like a geyser that erupts
And the spewing rich particles nourish
The present and the future

I thought that happiness
Was as noisy as a little child
Who laughs joyously and carefree
And doesn’t taste salty tears

And unexpectedly, like a blind man
That was given a few moments of sight
I encountered another happiness
Which wasn’t geyser-like or noisy

This happiness was like a serenade
Quiet and uplifting toward the beauty
It filled the aura of my entire being
It overwhelmed me like the clear dawn of the morning

I begged it to last …
Like a never-ending song of adoration
I wanted to retain this happiness
But … it wasn’t from this world

It got mixed up among the words of the morning prayer
For a while, like a lost ring of a saint
What was left was the memory of it, like a little smoldering flame
A few teardrops of happiness on a held-out hand.

 
18.10.2007. Holy Mass (memory of St. Luke).

During the whole Mass I kept hearing in my ears: and the Word became Flesh. Jesus became Flesh. His Body was perfect; ours was infected with the original sin. It is because of our weak body, we are touched by all kinds of sin. How to strengthen our body, our heart, our mind? Through a confession and a Holy Communion. It seems evident, but do we remember about that?

The Holy Communion, confession raise us from our down-falls, strengthen our body, like holy medicine, it immunizes us against sin. When we get refreshed with the Body of Christ, we become stronger in our fight against idleness, vanity and other weaknesses.

Obviously, the contemporary word corrupts our psyche through the body. It excuses our down-falls resulting from debauchery (love is most important), it strengthens our vanity (fashion), it takes away the value of modesty, chastity and fidelity. The contemporary world tells us to be strong, successful, healthy and fashionable. The youth succumb to these values. After many years, they feel deceived. Evil strikes the submissive body, the most gullible and weakens our soul. The weakness of the body is not its physical illness, it is the ease with which it succumbs to sin.

Letters of Love

I am an Earthling
And I know the earthly alphabet of love
You, Lord, describe Your Love
With Heavenly letters
Your Love became Flesh
Mine that was written with the human alphabet.
Crucified The Divine Love 
I look for Your letters in my heart, Lord
The earthly alphabet gets squeezed in like a virus
Daily life against Heaven
Prayer, the Way of the Cross, they all indicate
That Your letters are marked with the cross
In the space of Your Passion
The cross on Your back, the fallen cross
The cross that is raised
The fourteen letters of the alphabet
Of God’s Love …
Have been written down on earth …
Simon read them, Veronica read them, too
Give the light, Lord, to our souls
So that we could mark our lives
With Your letters of Love.

 
21.10.2007. During the Holy Mass, I saw a silhouette of a man and on his chest, there was the Countenance of Jesus, like an icon, sticking to his heart. During the meditation, I was thinking about that. Each of us comes to this world with the Countenance of Jesus in our heart. Whatever we will do with this Countenance depends on our free will. Some take care of this Countenance so that they never destroy Its value; they decorate It with their decent life and prayer, others put It off on the “shelf of oblivion”, being busy with daily affairs. Some tragic events in life make them begin to look for the Countenance that they put into oblivion. Some find It (a great grace), while the others fall into doubt. Some day we will stand before God with the Countenance that we had been offered. What condition will It be in? Will It be just a damaged sheet of paper or a beautiful icon?

 
Sense of life

I thought that life
Is like a concert of wishes for You, Lord
And Your silence is like punishment
I thought that I am like a bird
Locked in a cage
And You feed me at will

Many years passed
Like the leaves, swept by a hurricane
My soul, embraced with silence
Was looking for the truth about life
And at one moment, a light blow surrounded her
Or maybe an Angel touched me with the wings?
A thought came like a golden ray
About the truth of our life

You didn’t send us, Lord, to the Earth
For mere joys and sufferings
You had a design in Your heart
That we, here on earth
Should learn … the way to love You
I think that You hoped, Lord
Like Father, after years of separation
That someday, Your Love for us
And ours for You
Would get together, along the same way.

 
31.10.2007. During Adoration, I thought that man would like to see certain values decorated, “gilded”. He would like to change Jesus’ Love for people into the “golden love”. But Jesus’ love was bought off with great torment. True love (for example life of Mother Theresa, her help for the ill and needy in Calcutta), was difficult, and was hidden in the wounds of those sick people, in the painstaking nursing. The love that Jesus calls for, doesn’t have “the golden frames”, it is often invisible. We can decorate the cross with flowers but we can’t remove the wounds from the effigy of Christ. They are still bleeding so that man never forget that the true Love means complete submission, in spite of pain, illness, obstacles, trials and tribulations.
Such love can’t be locked in the golden frames, it gets out of any frames, and only the heart of the man who experiences this love, is able to share it with other people.

Night of a soul

It’s like the earthly sphere that revolves round the Sun
Giving day and night
Also the human soul has her day and her Night
I look for a lamp of faith in the darkness
But the Night goes on endlessly like suffering without reason
The words of prayer are like a futile echo
They rebound off the soul
And return with the fear of abandonment

I am propped up against the rock of my own Olive Garden
I look for You, Jesus, in my Night
I open my ears to Your voice
I feel so much pain in the darkness
As if Purgatory were my guest
And Jesus is silent and waiting
At the stake of whipping

During the Night of a soul, the eyes see better
Nothing deafens the painful silence
Darkness invites like a cell of a hermit
In great loneliness
I look for friendly eyes or hands
I cry for help
A little spark lights up the painful heart
The words of hope begin to glow
Jesus, I trust in You
And I come out of my Night of soul toward them …

It’s like the sun that warms up the day, giving light
Like the moon that brightens the darkness of the night
The same way the rays of The Divine Mercy
Watch over the Night of every human soul.

18.11.2007. I thought about our religious activity such as our frequent participation in daily Masses, and it occurred to me (maybe my Guardian Angel had something to do with it?) that when we want God to know about our attachment to Him, then we endear a very particular obligation for Him. God “counts” on our love and He expects from us more than from so-called ‘indifferent’ people. It happens so because, as it is in life, we suffer more when the close ones let us down. Not as much as when we experience harm or disappointment from strangers. I think that when we show God our unbridled love, we must more astute, according to the words of the Gospel: when you receive more (love for God), then you give more. Strong faith is a gift that can’t be wasted. God fights for the indifferent people, too, but didn’t He give us the gift of faith, so that we could eagerly help Him with this?

Visit of an angel

Human wisdom says
The Angel soars like a ghost
And we can’t touch him with the hand
Children feel him with their hearts
And their eyes can see more
Although my heart is mature
But hurt by the wisdom of this world
It still has some empty space
For beautiful longing
For the touch … of an angel
He arrived at dawn, dressed in white robe
Afflicted with my sorrow
He put his hand on my sad thoughts
And sheltered me with his wing like a blanket
He closed my eyes with his warmth
And opened my ears to music unknown
Our hands became intertwined
In the invisible space of the heart
And we kept obliged like a motionless pieta
I, the daughter of this world
And He, the Prince from Heaven.

 
23.11.2007. Before the Holy Mass in the Convent of the Sisters of The Holy Mother of Mercy, I was suddenly struck by a thought which showed me very clearly the essence of our being here on earth. God - Creator gave us this beautiful world, which is our temporary home, and we are its lodgers. Our duty is to take care of it. Like in every home, there are set rules to be observed; when we don’t follow them, the peace of this home is “destroyed” and mess and chaos prevail. I asked: ‘how can we meet You in this home’ I heard in my heart: ‘but you are with Me now, at the Feast at the Tabernacle, during this Holy Mass.’

In our home - world (like in separate homes), there is a table where we eat our meals. The Tabernacle – it is the Altar and the Offering of the Son of God. We meet Jesus at the Mass. God - Creator offered us The Encounter with Himself, He participates in our life, He is like Father – The Host of the Home that He built for us. This Home – World exists in peace when the housemates are in harmony and harmony prevails when people observe God’s laws, laws of The Creator of the world. Unfortunately, people defile these laws - hence there is chaos in our Home - World. We also disrespect and forget to worship The One who built this Home with Love. And as it is in every home where the father should be worshipped, the same should apply here. Our Creator waits for our love. Good family that abides by the Commandments of God – this is our great world (in miniature).

I think that the situation of families in the world in difficult now. Far from expected good standards and values. Chaos, lack of respect, abortion often occur in broken families.  Nuclear “miniature world” (family) contributes the world order. God - The Host of the world gave us free will to “protect” this world, with our endowed abilities. But unfortunately, this world is not Paradise; the “smiling evil” is a frequent guest here, happy about the chaos that results from the interference of Satan. When we observe the changes that appear in the society, as a result of introducing “values” which are not the values of God, we can hear Satan’s giggle that becomes exceptionally loud and contagious. Our hope is these wonderful families, people, who don’t succumb to “moral novelties” of excessive tolerance towards vane issues, but they stand fast by the teachings of Jesus. This “standing fast” is not devotion (as some scoff) but it is the wisdom and the awareness that The Host of this world, God Almighty, gave us this world with love, but He also expects love and respect from us.

The mercy of man

Man is going, he raises his head high
He would like to reach the sky, the cosmos
There are crosses under his feet, like blossoming flowers
He steps on them, looking at his dreams ahead
He wipes the tears of others impatiently
It’s only rain-drops, he thinks, they will dry out
He doesn’t help those who hold out their hands for help

Man is going, he counts the sins of others
He forgot about his, long time ago
How will You do it, Jesus?, You , Who is forgiving
How will You teach him Your Holy Mercy?
When you deflate his balloon of conceit
So that his eyes could open and see the light
How big will the cross be that You will put on his shoulders
So that he couldn’t heave it, unpunished?

Why are You silent, Jesus, when You see
Weapons in man’s hand, instead of the heart?
Why do You cry, nailed to the cross
And forgive the executioners of this earth?

When I kneel down at the cross and ask
I hear a voice that flows like a sad complaint:
I hear so few prayers for the sinners
How poor … the mercy of man is.

Touch me

Tired of trudging my hard road
I will sit at the foot of the cross
Like under a big shrubby oak tree
Its shadow will protect me
From the inclement  rays of the sun
There are so many deceptive
And crooked mirages around
It’s so hard to choose the right way
When man is weary and despondent

I will sit by the cross
Like under a big shrubby oak tree
I will watch and abide with You, Jesus
Through the night with burning stars
I will catch your falling teardrops from the cross
They will quench my thirst

Early in the morning, when dawn comes
Like an innocent child 
And You step down from the cross
To visit temples and people
I will hand You my humble scroll of request
Just one, a tiny one 
Please touch me lightly
So that I don’t oversleep …
And miss You when You pass by.

25.12.2007. I woke up early in the morning. I wanted to return to sleep again but in my heart and in my ears, I heard a “lecture”, as if someone wanted to teach me.

Human life is the way of the cross and suffering. In order to reach Truth - you must follow this way only, accepting God’s will. And what about the joy of life? I asked. The joy (the true one) can be achieved when we don’t turn off of the way of God’s destiny. Every suffering - cross, that God has put on us - brings us to the joy of finding God’s Love and protection and cuddling to it. People protest against suffering, they look for earthly happiness but they don’t find full satisfaction in it because it is the joy of the moment. Satan serves us such a joy of the moment because he knows the gullible nature of man.

God gives beautiful, fulfilling happiness that functions as peace of the heart. A momentary joy doesn’t give such peace, it wants more and more. God “fills” human soul and heart with sweetness, whenever man agrees to take up this cross, Satan brings constant anxiety.

The contemporary world is full of temptations for ‘short time joy’ and there is a theory that “everyone is entitled to happiness”. But what is it like? Does happiness mean to own something or somebody? Don’t people think how many things or people they need to fill their hearts with and then say: I am happy, joyous until the end of my life?

How many people have converted themselves through the cross? And how many claim that they were disappointed with God, because they were compelled to carry the cross. Do they find relief after they cast away the cross? Maybe they do, but then their “moments of joy” mean narcotics, alcohol, licentiousness and infidelity.

God hasn’t intended us to have only “the moments of joy’, which give more flavor and meaning to life but they don’t spiritually fill it up. We reach the fullness of knowing our own humanity and our own soul, when we move toward The Truth of God, which is Love. Indeed, He is The Only One who knows the needs of the human heart. It takes some people a whole lifetime to understand this truth, but God’s Love waits. This Love is not a momentary one, it is for eternity. And God intended us to exist for eternity.

 
My Jesus

 
My Jesus wears modest robes
And His cross is full of hurting knags
My Jesus gets wet in the rain
And He is freezing behind the door
That is locked
My Jesus feeds on tears
Of the people whom the world cast away
My Jesus begs for love like a mendicant
When we are passing by
My Jesus doesn’t have a Christmas tree with lamps
And He doesn’t sit at the banquet table
Every day He looks for a man - doctor
Who will dress His festering wounds with a bandage
My Jesus is not so colorful
As the painters sunflower field paintings
And there is no song that follows Him
With expectant loyal fans aloud
Unlike the choirs from the great cathedrals
My Jesus hums a quiet song
And sometimes He whimpers,exhausted
Toward the unbelievers who pass by the churches
Which are empty, bur richly decorated
An Angel said that my Jesus
Is not holiday-like and gilded
He Is simply like we are - worried
And so close to us …
Like our daily life.