Retreat with St. Paul of the Cross- Day 35, December 27, 1720

     On this day Paul Daneo wrote: “Feast of St. John, Apostle and Evangelist. Through the infinite goodness of God I enjoyed great repose and tenderness, especially at holy Communion. Through infused understanding and the deepest consolation of the Spirit I enjoyed a certain spiritual repose, mingled with the sufferings of the Redeemer in which my soul takes its delight. There was a mingling of love and sorrow. On this point I cannot give a clearer explanation because it is impossible to explain.      “During the time I was serving Mass and while I beheld Jesus in the Blessed sacrament, I kept asking Him to send a Seraphim to pierce me through with darts of love. This comes from the loving impulses which the infinite mercy imparts to the heart. I also asked Him to allow me to quench my thirst for His love by allowing me to drink from the infinite font of His most Sacred Heart— but this last happened to me at holy Communion.”

      Berta’s entry: Dear Jesus, that’s exactly how I feel when I look upon Your Cross and see You hanging there, “a mingling of sorrow and love”– sorrow because of the horrible things done to You and love because of why You allowed it to happen. And I have to add joy to the mix. I don’t look away in horror, like many do, I look at You on that Cross all hurt and broken and I feel joy because I know how You love us. Your sacrifice shows me. Love, suffering, and joy, emanate from that scene in Calvary. Thank You, my God!

     Orlando’s entry: During my private prayer I re-read, slowly and lovingly, Paolo’s powerful entry. I stopped to let each image carry me into the arms of God. It was wonderful; my Lord gave me a taste of how He felt about His Beloved Disciple. I tasted His infinite Goodness, His repose in my heart and mine in His, the consolation of His Holy Spirit. My guardian angels with all the angels of the people I have loved reminded me of how God has always been there. I felt His Mercy, but also His pain and sorrow on the Cross. It was too much for me. St. Paul of the Cross once wrote that “ Love is one great wound.” The Lord took me, like the little microbe that I am, into that ghastly wound at His side. Within, my Papa awaited. He held me like a baby.

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