For one who lives in the Divine Will it is always Christmas
Our Lord Jesus Christ to the Servant of God, Luisa Piccarreta,
The Little Daughter of the Divine Will
December 26, 1923
For one who lives in the Divine Will it is always Christmas, and the mysteries of the Life of Jesus are a continuous act. There are no rags of misery for her. The continuous dying of Jesus, and like Him, of Luisa, in the Divine Will.
I went through most bitter days because of the privation of Jesus. I felt like a most vile rag which Jesus had put aside because it was disgusting to Him, so dirty as it was. In my interior, I heard say: “In my Will there are no rags, but everything is Life – and Divine Life. A rag is torn, becomes dirty, because it does not contain life; instead, in my Will, which contains life and gives life to all, there is no danger that the soul may be torn to pieces, or even less get dirty.”
Not paying attention to this, I thought to myself: ‘What beautiful Christmas holidays Jesus is making me spend! It shows how much He loves me!’
And He, moving in my interior, added: “My daughter, for one who does my Will, it is always Christmas. As the soul enters my Will, I am conceived in her act; as she performs her act, I develop my Life; as she completes it, I rise again, and the soul remains conceived in Me, develops her life in Mine, and rises again in my own acts. See, then, how Christmas holidays are for those who, once a year, prepare and place themselves in my Grace, and so they feel something new about my Birth within them. But for one who does my Will it is always Christmas: I am born again in each one of her acts. So, would you want Me to be born in you once a year? No, no – for one who does my Will, my birth, my Life, my Death and my Resurrection must be a continuous act, which is never interrupted; otherwise, what would be the difference, the immeasurable distance, from the other sanctities?”
On hearing this, I felt more embittered, and I thought to myself: ‘What fantasy! What I am hearing is nothing other than a most subtle pride of mine… Only my pride could suggest this to me, and reach the point of making me write so many things on the Will of God. The others are good, humble, and this is why no one ever dared to write anything…’ And while I was thinking about this, I felt such pain as to feel my heart break, and I tried to distract myself so as to hear nothing. What a terrible fight, to the point of feeling like dying!
Then, while I was in this state, my beloved Jesus made Himself seen, as though wanting to say more about His Most Holy Will, and I: ‘My Jesus, help me. Don’t You see how much pride there is in me? Have pity on me – free me from this subtle pride; I want to know nothing – it is enough for me to love You.’
And Jesus: “My daughter, crosses, sorrows, pains, are like a press for the soul. Just as the wine-press serves to crush and peel the grapes, in such a way that the wine remains on one side and the skin on the other; in the same way, crosses and pains, like a press, peel the soul of pride, love of self, passions, and of all that is human, leaving the pure wine of virtues. And so my virtues find the way to communicate and lay themselves within the soul, as on a pure white canvas, with indelible characters. Therefore, how can you fear, if every time I manifested to you my truths on my Will, these truths have always been preceded by crosses, sorrow and pains – and every time, by more intense and stronger pains? It was nothing other than the pressure of the press which I exercised in you, in order to peel you of all that is human. It was my interest, more than yours, that these truths would not mix with the skin of human passions.”
And I: ‘My Jesus, forgive me if I am telling You this, but You Yourself are the cause of my concerns. If You did not leave me, if you did not hide and did not deprive me of You, there would be no place in me in which to let these fears arise… Ah, Jesus, You make me die, but of a cruel death and of a double death, because I do not die. Ah, if I only could experience death and die, how sweet it would be for me! Ah, Jesus, I am telling You – I cannot take it any more; either You remain with me, or You take me with You.’
Now, while I was saying this, my adorable Jesus clasped me in His arms and with His hands, as though tying me with ropes; and it was as if I were put, pressed – crushed, under a press. I myself am unable to express the pain I felt within me; He alone knows it, who made me suffer.
Then, afterwards, He told me: “Beloved daughter of my Will, look inside of Me, how my Supreme Will did not concede even one breath of life to the will of my Humanity; and even though It was holy, not even that was conceded to Me. I had to remain under the pressure – more than of a press – of a Divine, infinite, unending Will, which constituted the life of each one of my heartbeats, words and acts; and my little human will died in every heartbeat, breath, act, word, etc. But It died in reality – It actually felt death, because It never had life. I only had my human will to make die continuously, and even though this was a great honor for my Humanity, it was the greatest of portents: at every death of my human will, it was substituted by a Life of Divine Will. However, this continuous dying was the greatest, the hardest, the most bitter and painful martyrdom of my Humanity. Oh, how the pains of my Passion shrink before this continuous dying of mine! And only through this did I complete the perfect Glory of my Celestial Father, and I loved Him with a love which surpasses every other love for all creatures.
To die, to suffer, to do something great once in a while and at intervals, is not so great. Also the saints, the good and other creatures have worked, have suffered, have died. But since it was not a continuous suffering, working and dying, it constitutes neither a perfect Glory to the Father, nor a Redemption which can be extended to all. Therefore, my daughter, Newborn of my Eternal Volition, take a look at where your Jesus calls you and wants you: under the press of my Divine Will, so that your will may receive continuous death, just as my human will did. Otherwise, I could not make the new era arise, in which my Will will come to reign upon earth. It takes the continuous act, pains, deaths, in order to snatch from Heaven the “Fiat Voluntas Tua.”
Pay attention to this, my daughter; do not pay attention to others – either to my Saints, or to the way I behaved with them, which makes you be surprised about the way I behave with you. With them I wanted to do one thing; with you it is something else.”
And as He was saying this, He took the shape of a Crucifix and placed His forehead on mine, laying Himself upon my whole person; and I remained under His pressure and all prey to His Will.