The Garden (an allegory)

+JMJ

Inspired by the writings of St Therese of Lisieux

“The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily

do not rob the little violet of its scent nor the daisy of its simple charm.

If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its loveliness.” ― St Thérèse of Lisieux

228

Day after day, enormous azure waves crashed against a towering cliff that overlooked the sea. The sea shone with bright turquoise and gold under the sun. The cliff was white and dazzling as it rose from the waters. At first, nothing particular could be seen on the cliff except a flat, barren plateau of rocks. Yet if one were to look very closely and in just the right place, they would happen to see a tiny flower growing in a bit of soil between the rocks. It was light blue and it often felt forgotten and alone, because there were no other flowers on the cliff.

On the other side of the cliff, there could be seen a fragrant green valley with many wondrous gardens and meadows. The little flower spent its days gazing at the valley and watching the other plants. It could see towering trees with their many branches swaying in the wind and their leaves casting intricate patterns of sunlight and shade on the ground. The flowers it could not count, for they were as numerous as the stars in the sky. Thousands of them could be seen, interweaved in a dazzling mosaic of blue, yellow, lilac, crimson, and other vibrant colours. Bright streams ran through the valley providing it with water, colourful butterflies fluttered above the meadows, and mountains with their glimmering peaks shone in the distance. A soft breeze brushed through the valley, rustled the leaves, and carried a lovely fragrance to the top of the cliff.

Captivated by all this beauty, the little flower gazed on the valley, but there was Someone dearer than all others that it eagerly awaited to see each morning. With each sunrise, shining with light more radiant than the rays of the sun, the Lord and Creator of the garden would walk through His creation. In fact, He had made everything that there was, but the little flower did not know this. All throughout the night, the little flower awaited His coming. Upon seeing Him, its little heart was pierced by both joy and sorrow. How kind and tender He looked! Longingly, it wished that He would visit it too, but this was not to be… The cliff was very far from the valley and very high up. Often, the little flower wondered why it was created to be so lonely and placed so far away from the other plants. It could see other little blue flowers that grew in cheerful little groups, but it was all alone, surrounded only by sharp rocks. It had no one with whom to share its pain and it spent its days and nights hoping for the Lord to come and visit it and this was the greatest happiness that it could imagine.

The little flower watched the Lord as He walked among His flowers in the most beautiful garden. It was filled with magnificent roses, lilies, lilacs, tulips and magnolias. The apple orchard was in full bloom and its little white blossoms filled the air with a light fragrance. The Lord delighted in these flowers, and held the delicate roses in His hands and they scattered their petals before Him on the path where He walked. The path was strewn with beautiful red, rose, white, and yellow petals. How the little flower wished to scatter its little petals on the path, even to give all its petals, though they were so few, just to see the Lord smile and delight in its love! It thought it could surely love just as much as the tall gorgeous roses and the pure white lilies. Then, more than ever, it grieved to remain on the rocky cliff. Sometimes, one of its little blue petals would fall on the ground, and the little flower wished for the wind to catch it and carry it to Him. It watched as the Lord then walked to the lilies and rejoiced in their purity and innocence. They bent to the ground before Him and He blessed them.

The little flower observed the Lord walk among His other plants. The tall majestic cedars offered Him their shade, and as He lay on the grass in the meadow, the little violets and daisies delighted Him. Again the little flower wished to give such comfort and love to Him but it could only send its love from afar. Did Jesus hear it at all? Did He know about this little flower, all alone on the cliff, hoping against all hope to be one of the flowers in the valley? It watched as the Lord smiled at the flowers and longed so much to be among them that its heart almost broke.

During the nights when a piercing cold wind blew from the sea and stars could be seen sparkling in the heavens, the little flower would ask the birds that perched on the tall rocks to fly into the valley as it lay shrouded in twilight and describe what they saw. Eagerly, it awaited to hear about the Lord, but when the birds returned, they only described the sleeping flowers and the silent, tall trees.

Sometimes, a deep mist covered the cliff and isolated it entirely from the valley and even the sea. Then the little flower was tossed about and torn in the wind, often covered with dirt and mud, and could not even see through the mist to watch its Beloved Lord. At these times, it was no longer sure if it had ever seen Him or if it was only a very beautiful dream. Sadly, it wondered if it had ever seen anything other than this dense darkness surrounding it. It hoped that at least the Lord had been real, and it no longer even cared if the valley had been imagined, as long as He really existed. Sometimes it was tempted to think that the Lord did not care or love the little flower, and in these desolate times, it could not figure out why it had been placed in this distant, lonely place. It tried to imagine Him as He was, walking through the valley in His white robe, with a radiant crown of light on His Head, smiling and blessing the flowers as they bowed before Him. Most of all it tried to remember His kind eyes and tried to imagine what it must be like to look into them. Thus day after day, year after year, the little flower remained alone, feeling forsaken under the deep night sky and cold distant stars, shivering in the freezing wind that came from the sea, and exhausted from struggling against the storms that tore its little petals.

One evening, the little flower was thinking of the Lord as it did always, and being deep in thought, it did not notice the lonely figure walking on the plateau towards it. The figure was bowed down as in grief, and did not look at the evening sunlight glimmering on the sea, or the birds flying overhead, or the valley. The figure was that of a man, and he barely walked but had nothing to help or support him. He stumbled over the rocks and the sharp stones pierced his feet painfully. As the man came closer, the little flower was shocked to realize that his whole body was covered with wounds and blood ran from his head which was pierced with sharp thorns. The blood had soaked his garment and hair and was dripping on the rocks as he walked. Tired and worn out from the journey, the man collapsed on a rock right near the little flower. He was barely moving but his hands were shaking. The little flower felt such sorrow for this man and wished with all its heart that it could help him. But what could it do, being so tiny? It raised itself a little to look at the man’s face, and as it did so, it felt as if the world had stopped…

The man’s face was covered with blood and dirt, but as the little flower looked at his eyes, it recognized the unmistakeable eyes of the Lord it had so often watched in the valley. Its little heart fluttered so quickly that it could not speak. It was truly Him! It would surely know His eyes anywhere.

Now, tears fell from His eyes to the ground, but they were still just as kind and beautiful as when He had blessed the flowers. As the little flower was contemplating this, one of His large tears fell on its petals. Then, drops of His blood began falling on the flower. Yet the whole time, it was only glad to see Him, though overcome by sorrow and helplessness. It saw as one of its petals fell right near the Lord. It was no longer blue and looked very tattered, as the little flower had endured a terrible storm the night before. But with all its heart, it offered this little petal to Him and wished that like a tree, it could offer its leaves to wipe the blood from His face and cover the hard rocks on which He lay. It thought of the other flowers in the valley, and how they probably did not know what had happened to the Lord and how they would have wanted to comfort Him if they only knew. Why was He here, on this desolate cliff, all alone?

Suddenly, the Lord looked at the little petal, picked it up and laid it on His hand. The little flower saw that both of His hands were pierced through. The petal covered one of the wounds on His hand. The Lord turned then and looked at the little flower. He looked upon it with such compassion and love, and despite His pain, He was smiling. “Thank you”, He whispered.

The little flower did not at first understand. “Dear Lord, for what do You thank me? If I had been like one of the roses or the beautiful flowers in the valley, I could have done so much more to help You”. And the little flower bowed down sadly until it touched the ground.

“My very little one.. Do you know why I have placed you here? I know you often felt so forgotten and alone. But I never stopped thinking of you and supported you when you knew it least. And now you have consoled Me.”

The little flower still could not understand. What has it ever done? How had it ever consoled Him? It raised itself to look into His eyes.  He looked back with immeasurable kindness yet did not at first answer. The little flower gazed at the wounds on the hands that were stretched towards it. It thought of His weariness and loneliness as He was walking on the cliff, as if carrying the weight of the world. Then, it remembered… the cold, the storms, all the nights of wishing to see Him, wishing that He would visit the cliff. Oh, what were these sufferings compared to His? And yet only on this cliff and only through these nights, could it know and experience for itself at least a part of His pain. With Him, it had suffered and loved…

The little flower could not speak. In its amazement, gratitude, surprise and joy, it almost did not realize as the Lord picked it up with its roots and held it in His hands. “Share now in the joy of your Master”, He said. Amazing, beautiful rays of light came from His Heart and fell upon the little flower. It felt immersed in an infinite ocean of love and light, and completely overwhelmed with joy. His eyes were so kind, shining with such compassion and tenderness, that it wanted to be lost in Him forever. Somehow, without words, it understood that He wanted its love too, that He desired and longed for it, even more than it had longed for His love. It could almost not believe that this was happening. In this unspeakable joy, the Lord held the little flower in His wounded hands and carried it to His most beautiful garden.

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She who loved much

meditate meditate

+JMJ

“And one of the Pharisees desired him to eat with him. And he went into the house of the Pharisee, and sat down to meat. And behold a woman that was in the city, a sinner, when she knew that he sat at meat in the Pharisee’ s house, brought an alabaster box of ointment; And standing behind at his feet, she began to wash his feet, with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. And the Pharisee, who had invited him, seeing it, spoke within himself, saying: This man, if he were a prophet, would know surely who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him, that she is a sinner. And Jesus answering, said to him: Simon, I have somewhat to say to thee. But he said: Master, say it. A certain creditor had two debtors, the one who owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And whereas they had not wherewith to pay, he forgave them both. Which therefore of the two loveth him most? Simon answering, said: I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. And he said to him: Thou hast judged rightly. And turning to the woman, he said unto Simon: Dost thou see this woman? I entered into thy house, thou gavest me no water for my feet; but she with tears hath washed my feet, and with her hairs hath wiped them. Thou gavest me no kiss; but she, since she came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint; but she with ointment hath anointed my feet. Wherefore I say to thee: Many sins are forgiven her, because she hath loved much. But to whom less is forgiven, he loveth less. And he said to her: Thy sins are forgiven thee. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves: Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman: Thy faith hath made thee safe, go in peace.” (Luke 7, Douay-Rheims)

This is one of my favourite parts of the Gospels. It is so beautiful. I wonder how this woman felt.. was she afraid to come uninvited like this, to boldly kiss Our Lord’s feet and pour the perfume on them? She must have realized that others knew about her life, and that she might not be welcomed… but love overcame any fear. She came to Jesus with such gratitude and perhaps forgot everything else. She had believed in Him.. even though she lived a sinful life, she reached out to Jesus, not only to ask for forgiveness, but to show Him her love.

At times, I come to Jesus, so unworthy and sinful, and – how can anything we give be enough? But Jesus in His great Mercy accepts it. Even if our love is only so small. If we have an intention to love Him, He receives this intention. St Gertrude wished to suffer for Jesus till the end of the world: and even though this did not happen, He told her that He accepted her intention as if it had happened. How many treasures are there in our good intentions!

The story of the “sinful woman with the perfume jar” is one of the most moving stories I have ever read. I sometimes imagine how it happened, and how this woman felt, and how it must have been for her when her worship was accepted by Jesus. Though she had lived a sinful life, I imagine Jesus looking at her so kindly, because she was repentant and loved Him so sincerely.

Our Lord is so gentle and compassionate, and this story can give courage to sinful souls to approach Him with confidence, and not be afraid to ask for forgiveness and open up to His love. Maybe sometimes, people don’t repent because they are despairing, or maybe afraid of facing their sins? Jesus longs to forgive them; He stands with arms outstretched, calling them to His embrace.

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Looking at Our Lord – 2

Angels, tend you your chalice Receive this precious blood on the altar of my sacrifice Carry it to the heights of Heaven_ Letaille 669

+ JMJ

Cars and people pass by a church. People are running errands, shopping, meeting friends… everyone is so busy. How many know that Jesus waits for them? How many know that He is not only spiritually, but physically, substantially, present in the Blessed Sacrament? There, in the Church, within the Tabernacle… He is alone. Would any visit Him, even greet Him from outside? If only they would… He longs to meet this soul that just walked past. Or this other soul who just drove past quickly thinking of other things. How many thoughts are worthless, not about eternal things, but of the world, entertainment, fashions, temporary enjoyment… If only they would come in, and pour out to Him all their troubles and worries and heartache and weariness. He longs to give them grace… to have them recognize His love, – and this is like a thirst, which nothing else can quench. He longs immeasurably for them to finally receive His love, and His Mercy burns Him because He is forced to keep it within His Heart, and souls would not accept it (2). Blindly, they continue on the road that leads to the dark abyss… blind and not hearing His calling. Some, aided by the prayers of the Blessed Mother, the Saints, and other Christians, turn towards Him, and are enfolded in His Mercy… but so many are lost, and fall one after another into hell (4).

He calls to souls: “Dearly loved son, I am Jesus, which name signifies Saviour! why else are My hands transfixed with nails which fasten them to a cross? On it, for love of you, I died. My feet are wounded, My Heart wide open, riven by the lance after death… Thus do I stand before you that you may know who I am and what My love is. But do not fear – My law is one of love… and in knowing Me you will find peace and joy. It is sad to live as an orphan: come, My sons, come to Your Father”. (Jesus’ words in “Way of Divine Love”, written down by Sr Josefa Menendez).

If someone walks into the church… do they think of Jesus? Do they recognize Him, waiting for them on the Altar? Jesus spoke to Sr Josefa Menendez of waiting for a chosen soul: “Still, I wait all night and watch in the tabernacle for that soul… fervently hoping that she will come and receive Me… that she will converse with Me with all the trust of a bride (…) Yet when she receives Me in Holy Communion she barely says a word to me (…) she is indifferent, bored… wishes it were time to go… Is it thus that you receive Me, O soul whom I have chosen and for whom I have watched with the impatience of love throughout the livelong night? Yes, I earned for her coming that I might rest in her share her anxieties.. I had prepared fresh graces for her, but she does not want them…” (Way of Divine Love).

Though these words were spoken about His brides, the religious, it shows the strength of His love and longing. All night, He waited for the soul, knowing she would come… looking at all her troubles, wishing to consume them all in His love, and to bring grace, peace, and perfect joy… all night He thought of this, and waited for her arrival (1).

When souls come to visit Him… would they say a word to Him? Would they come close and say “I love You Jesus..”. How much He earns to share this love with them, to hear these words from them. To hold them in His arms and bring them to the Father. How much it would hurt Him, if after such love, they would receive Him out of habit… or worse, in a state of mortal sin… or would come only to admire the architecture of the church and not think of Him at all… but still He is patient, longing, welcoming them, loving and waiting for them… So many Angels worship and prostrate themselves before the Holy Eucharist, giving their love and adoration to their Creator, yet He is there for us.. and so often, forgotten, and abandoned. Such humility on the part of God… that He would hide His own glory, the glory for which all things were made, and stay hidden under the appearance of a little Host.. and in this Host, His Heart is beating just as it does in Heaven. (3).

Then it is night… most cannot come and visit. It is dark in the church. Jesus has no one to comfort Him. It moves His Heart with love if someone remembers Him at home, and spends some time in prayer, wishing that they could visit and console Him in the Blessed Sacrament. He delights in their love if they seek to offer reparation for so many sins done throughout the night.

IF WE COULD SEE JESUS….

Then we would not want to ever look away. Can we come to Him in His suffering? We have come to adore His beautiful eyes, so kind and welcoming, but now filled with tears. We kiss His Face… but it is unrecognizable, covered in Blood and dirt… Judas gave a kiss of betrayal and others scorned Him, hit His Face, even spit at Him… when we lean to kiss Him, not as Judas did, but with love, do we feel the thorns? When we lean to embrace Him as Our Savior, do we feel the scourging, and when we are close to Jesus, do we feel the spear that pierced His Heart…(5). When Jesus is ignored and mocked, do we listen lovingly to His words, do we come close and listen to every beat of His Heart? Do our hearts beat for Him? Can we with humility lie down beside Him as He is on the ground when He fell, unable to get up; do we help to carry His Cross like Simon of Cyrene, or show Him compassion as St Veronica did when she wiped His Face with her veil. How can we shield His Face from those who want to hurt Him further, blaspheme, commit terrible sacriliges… (6,7)

We are nothing, and He is everything. How incredible it is that something that we, mere creatures, can do – could actually console Jesus, or bring Him joy… Jesus said that when we say the Golden Arrow prayer, we “wound His Heart delightfully” in reparation for blasphemy (11). Our Lord also said to St Gertrude that turning to Him with strong confidence, amidst temptations, moves Him to help this soul. Actually, Jesus used incredibly strong words to describe this, which are so moving and beautiful: “Anyone suffering from human temptations, who flees to My protection with firm confidence, belongs to those of whom I can say: ‘One is My dove, My chosen one out of thousands, who has pierced My Heart with one glance of her eyes.’ And this confidence wounds My Heart so deeply that were I unable to relieve such a soul, it would cause My Heart a sadness which all the joys of heaven could not assuage . . . The confidence that I truly have the power, the wisdom and the goodness to aid a soul faithfully in all her miseries, is the arrow which pierces My Heart, and does such violence to My love that I can never abandon her.” (8). He also said of St Gertrude, that He takes pleasure in gazing at her because she desires the perfection of every virtue, in her heart (8). How incredible is this!

If we could see Jesus, we would look at Him with so much love, but when we look at the Host, Jesus is looking at us. So amazing – Jesus is looking at us! If we could see Jesus looking at us, such love would pierce our hearts, and we could never forget Him. What joy it is to kneel before Him in the Blessed Sacrament, at Holy Mass or Adoration, and look at smile at Him, – knowing that He sees this and it somehow, despite our unworthiness, delights His Heart.

Jesus told Sr Josefa Menendez: “I love souls and I look for a response of love. What is so wounding to My Heart is that often instead of love I meet with indifference. Give Me love and give Me souls… unite all your actions to My Heart. Stay with Me who am with you. I am Love and desire only love. O! if souls only realized how I wait for them in mercy. I am the love of all loves, and it is My joy to forgive”. (Way of Divine Love).

Sources

1. Way of Divine Love by Sr Josefa Menendez
2. Divine Mercy in My Soul by St Faustina
3. He and I by Gabrielle Bossis
4. Apparitions of Our Lady of Fatima
5. St Gemma Galgani: http://www.therealpresence.org/eucharst/tes/a7.html http://www.lovecrucified.com/saints/gemma/gemma_crucifix.html
6. http://godisatworkinyou.blogspot.ca/2013/03/kissing-sacred-face-of-jesus-profoundly.html
7. http://godisatworkinyou.blogspot.ca/2013/06/a-prayer-during-holy-communion-while_8.html
8. http://www.tanbooks.com/doct/gertrude_great.htm
9. Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by Bl. Anne Catherine Emmerich
10. “I thirst for you”, by Bl. Mother Teresa, http://www.osv.com/OSV4MeNav/BlessedMotherTeresa/SecretFireGuidedMeditation/tabid/6864/Default.aspx
11. GOLDEN ARROW PRAYER: http://www.catholicplanet.com/catholic/arrow.htm

“May the most holy, most sacred, most adorable, most incomprehensible and unutterable Name of God be always praised, blessed, loved, adored and glorified, in Heaven, on earth and under the earth, by all the creatures of God, and by the Sacred Heart of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the Most Holy Sacrament of the altar.”

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Looking at Our Lord

Blessed be the most holy Sacrament Sers

+JMJ

A Reflection on the Holy Face of Jesus

“Look at My face, Josefa, it is sin that has thus disfigured it. The world precipitates itself into pleasures of all kinds; such a multitude of sins are committed that My soul is drowned in bitterness and grief… Where shall I find relief for My sorrow? I come here seeking shelter and love in order to forget for awhile the ingratitude of men.” (Way of Divine Love).

Looking upon Our Lord must be an unimaginable joy of the saints in Heaven. Once we look upon God…how could we want to look away, and not love Him? Forever, for all eternity… everything: His Holy Face, His eyes, Sacred Heart, the wounds that He bore for us with infinite love – all inflame our hearts to love Him more and more, the longer we spend gazing upon Him. Here on earth, people find joy in looking at those they love, and we hear of a person memorizing the face of their beloved. How beautiful to memorize His Face, to memorize every detail. After a thousand years, it would not be enough, every moment would be like the first time, that first moment and joy of knowing that we are His, forever and ever, resting in His embrace.

But to see Him looking back at us? God, our Creator, looks at us… with infinite compassion, love, and mercy in His eyes. Who are we, that we can look into His Face, His eyes. And if we can behold not a Judge, but a Merciful Savior, who says “your sins are forgiven, go in peace”. How can we hope, that He would smile at us… we cannot deserve this. It is only His Mercy, His love… such amazing love. We do not comprehend. What can we do in return? Nothing would be enough… not any of our good works, not any suffering, can be enough, it is only in Mercy that God accepts them. We can spend eternity lovingly thanking Him, kissing His holy wounds, thinking of the pain He endured to redeem us. He could have suffered much less and still saved us… He gave everything, everything He had, He suffered like no one has ever suffered, before or since. His love is such that even for one person, He would do this… His love is such that He would be ready to go through torments thousands of times. He died and rose again and now lives forever and ever. His love is infinite.

How can it be, that God not only accepts our love but delights in it? What is our love? It is only what we have received from Him… and our cooperation, is often so weak, so lukewarm. He gives us the power to love, and we love so feebly, so little, and still we find this is like a treasure to Him, which He delights to look at, which brings joy to His Heart. It is His love that makes it so… our love is less than an atom compared to an ocean. His Heart is an abyss of love. He takes us into His Heart and unites us with Him, and our poor little hearts are consumed in His love.

Do we let Him?

Behold Jesus as He suffers… how much we want to see Him happy, joyfully speaking to His disciples, His friends… but He is all alone. Longingly, He looks at the people gathered around Him… would any comfort Him? He healed them of illnesses, cast out demons from them, with God’s power He helped them all… earnestly, He prayed to the Father for His disciples, for all who would follow Him. But He sees so many cold looks in return. There’s a hatred in their eyes, and for what? Gladly, He would give His life for them… they strike Him, and spit in His Face. One who was among those counted as His own – comes up to Him and kisses Him… but it is not a kiss of love, but of betrayal. Is there not one who would comfort Him? He prayed in the Garden and His sweat became drops of Blood. He saw the many souls throughout the ages, rejecting Him, persisting in sin, rejecting the gift that He is about to make for them, the gift of His own life… going into the darkness, ignoring His hand stretched out to rescue them, ignoring His pleas to turn their hearts towards His, even for an instant (9). Even if they show a little willingness, He could give them grace and do what they cannot (2)… but they refuse repentance, turn away and fall down into the dark abyss forever. Each soul, unique and unrepeatable, a soul made in the image and likeness of God, that can give God something no other soul can – is now forever set against Him, unable to love.

Our Lord’s love is met only with scorn, laughter… they pierce His Head and mock Him. The King of all and Creator of the universe, through whom all things were made, who is one with the Father in eternity – is crowned in mockery with thorns, a purple robe put around His shoulders… and so many souls throughout time join, mocking His kingship, ignoring His laws, preferring to make ones of their own over already set by the Father. So many not believing Him, denying God’s existence, blaspheming…

Shortly before, He is scourged. His pure and divine Body is cut, over and over, till His Blood covers the ground. They laugh and mock as they scourge Him. Why do they not have compassion? Their faces are only full of fury and hatred for Him. They strike over and over, His back, chest, shoulders… His flesh is torn off and you can see the bones and still they do not stop. He offers this suffering to the Father… and once again so many souls though out time, join to scourge Him as they commit sins of impurity, and prefer ‘a moment of enjoyment to His love’ (1).

“What struck me most was the expression of His tortured eyes – those eyes usually so beautiful and so expressive… to-day they were closed, swollen and filled with blood, especially the right eye” (Sr Josefa Menendez, Way of Divine Love – describing her vision).

Jesus falls and the only response from others is to hit Him harshly, and yell at Him to get up. His Blood is flowing from His many wounds… and as He carries His Cross, He falls again and again. He is trying to find the strength to raise Himself up, though it means more suffering, but He is ready to give it all… and the Creator of everything is on the ground, His wounds made more painful by repeated blows. (7)

He struggles to stand up again, and as He once again carries the weight of the Cross – and the weight of our sins – it wounds His shoulder and causes unknown anguish… how often do we think of this wound?

The Roman soldier bends down beside Jesus. Jesus looks at him… this is a man that He created. One day he was born, and lived as a child. Jesus sees everything about this man. If only he would turn, would meet His eyes, and understand the love shown there… but neither does he respond to Love, and – holding the nail to His hand, raises the hammer… a pain like thunderbolts goes through His Body. The other arm… then the feet… Jesus raises His eyes to the Father. Abba!

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

The soldiers cast lots for His garments.

Jesus looks into the eyes of His Mother, standing near the Cross… He beholds her suffering, as she sees her Son’s Body so torn, as to shreds, as she sees Him nailed to a cross before her, His Precious Blood flowing down… the Sorrowful Mother, and she weeps and her grief is as none can describe. How dear she is to Him. Mother and Son both suffering, her heart and her pain joined to His.

Incredible thirst overtakes Jesus. Not just thirst for water… but thirst for compassion, and for souls. How many would come to Him? How many would be willing to become one with Him, as He is one with the Father?

A darkness covers the whole earth… and Jesus looks to the Father but His Face cannot be found. “Eloi, Eloi, lamma sabachtani”?

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