The hour Saint is an exercise of devotion asked by Our Lord Christ for himself saint Marguerite-Marie Alacoque. He/it consists in uniting spiritually to agonizing Jesus in the Garden of the Olivier during at least one hour. She/it corresponds to this complaint in love that, as the gospel mentions it, Notre-Seigneur made to the three apostles, and more especially to Pierre saint, when it found them sleepy during his/her/its terrifying Agony of three hours. He/it told to them: & laquoAinsi, you didn't have strength to watch one hour with moi?» The devout souls and the contemplative that like Jesus' Sufferings, consider this complaint as if she/it was addressed to them and endeavors every Thursday evenings, in particular Thursday before the first Friday of the month, to pass at least one hour in company of suffering Jesus in the garden.

Those that would like to practice this very devout exercise recommended by Our Lord Christ to Marguerite saint will find here, in the three Hours of Gethsémani, a matter more that sufficient to stimulate their compassion for suffering Jesus and to hold him company with love during one hour, during which the Graces that the soul attracts on herself are incalculable! And considering the multiple damages of which are rich this text, the religious soul will not only be herself full of Graces, but it will get big kindness for all the church.

To practice this devout exercise according to the suggestion of the auteure, it will be useful to agree one hour to browse the three Hours in the agony, that means the Hours spreading from 21h to 22h, of 22h to 23h, and of 23h at midnight. If one only browsed one of it, it would take too little time. One could only read two of them, and to meditate until one hour went by. The one that makes the devout exercise of the hour Saint will be able to start with the preparatory prayer that here it is:

Preparatory prayer on time Saint

Oh Jesus, my divine Redeeming, condescend to admit me at the sides of your three dear apostles, to attend your Agony in the Garden of the Olivier! Warned well by the soft reproach that you made to Pierre and the two others that slept, I want to watch one hour with you. Make me feel at least an Injury of your agonizing Heart, a Breath of your unsettled Breathing. I want to fix my look on your divine Face and to contemplate it when he/it becomes pale, when he/it is moved, when he/it feels a big anguish, when he/it tilts until earth!

I see, oh my Jesus, your divine No one to vacillate and to fall, soon on one hand, soon of the other, and I see you joining the Hands. I hear the whining of love and Suffering that you raise skywards! Oh my Jesus, agonizing in this dark Garden, during this hour where I will value you company, make sink on me some drops of the infinitely adorable Blood that flow out of all your Members!

Of grace, oh my beloved Redeeming, that I drink at least a mouthful of your bitter chalice, that I feel some of the Pains of your divine Heart, and that I feel my heart to break by the repentance to have offended my Lord that, for me, is reduced some to this terrifying Agony!

Oh my Jesus, give me the Grace to suffer and to cry with you during at least one hour in this Garden! Oh Marie, Mother grief-stricken, make me feel the compassion of your Heart transfixed towards agonizing Jesus. Amen.

y Jesus, it is attracted by your Love that I come to hold company in the Garden. You call my heart injured, and me I run while telling to me: & does laquoD'où come this attraction of love that I feel? Ah! maybe that my Jesus is in such a state of bitterness that he feels the need of my compagnie!» And I fly toward you. But I tremble of horror while entering in this garden because of the cold weather and the obscurity of the night. The slow movement of the leaves, like a plaintive voice, announces me the pain, the sadness and my Jesus' death! The stars, by their soft flicker, as eyes that cry, are all attentive to watch. Making echo to Jesus' Tears, they blame me for my ingratitudes.

While trembling and uncertainly, I look for Jesus. I call it: & laquoJésus, where you are? Do you attract me to you and don't you let yourself see? Do you call me and do you hide? All is terror here, all is terror and silence profond!» I stretch the ear and I hear a laborious Breath. It is Jesus. I have just found it. But what terrifying change! It is not anymore the soft Jesus of the Last Supper Eucharistique whose Face was resplendent of a charming beauty, but a sad Jesus, of a sadness so deadly that it disfigures it! He/it agonizes. And me, I feel uneasy while thinking that, maybe, I won't hear his/her/its Voice more! I kiss his/her/its Feet. Then I make myself more audacious, I approach of his/her/its Arms, I put my hand on his/her/its Forehead to sustain it and, in a low voice, I tell to him: & laquoJésus, Jésus!» And him, challenged by my voice, look at me and says to me:

& laquoÂme, are you here? Ah! I waited for you. Because the sadness that oppresses me the more, it is the total abandonment by all! I waited for you to return you spectator of my Pains and to make you share the chalice of bitterness that shortly my celestial Father will send me by the intervention of an angel. We will drink it together. It won't be a chalice of comfort, but of intense bitterness! I feel the need that some soul magnetizes drinks at least some drops of it. Therefore, I called you so that you share my Pains, and to assure me not to stay alone, in a total abandon!»,

--& laquoAh! yes, oh my Jesus anguished, we will drink the chalice of your Pains together, and I won't leave you pas!» Reassured by me, Jesus enters in a deadly Agony and endure the intense Pains, seen before ever.

& laquoÔ my Jesus, my Love, say me why you are so sad, if afflicted, and only in this garden and in this night? It is the last night of your deadly Life! And few hours remain you before beginning your Passion! Here, I would have believed to find the celestial Mom, Marie Madeleine full of love and the faithful apostles; but I find you only and in prey to a sadness that is for you pleased that a cruel death, but that doesn't make you die!

& laquoÔ my Good and my All, don't you answer me? Speak me. One would say that the sadness that oppresses you is so big that it made you lose the speech. Your Look so investigator and full of Light is sad. One would say that you look for help and the comfort. Your pale Face and your dry Lips, your divine Person who trembles of the head to the feet, your Heart that beats very strong in search of souls, shows an anguish as one would say that any moment you are going to expire. All says to me that you feel very alone and that you search for my company.

& laquoMe has you very near, oh Jesus. And my heart doesn't support to see you prostrate on soil. I take you between my arms and tighten you strong on my heart. One by one, I want to count your anguishes and, one by one, the offenses that one makes to you, in order to give you for all the relief, the damages and compassion. Oh my Jesus, while I have you here and that I tighten you in my arms, I see that your Sufferings increase. I feel, oh my Life, that circulates in your Veins a fire; your Blood boils in your Veins, and one would say that it is going to tear them and to take some!

& laquoDis me, oh my Love, that you have? I don't see whips, thorns, nails, nor crosses, and yet, whereas I push the head on your Heart, I feel that some cruel thorns transfix it, that of the whips pitiless n' save no parcel of your divine No one, nor inside nor outside. I see your stiffened Hands and contorted more that by nails. Say me, oh my soft Well, that is therefore this that has so much to can, even in your heart of hearts, that makes you undergo as many torments and morts?»

Ah! he/it seems me that the soft Jesus half-opens his Lips and says me an extinct Voice: & laquoFille, do you want to know what torments me more that the very executioners, and why the torments of these won't anything be compared to this that I suffer currently? It is the love, the eternal love that, wanting the supremacy in all, makes me endure all whole and in my deepest Fibers, what the executioners will make me endure little by little in my Person. Soul, it is the love that predominates in me; the love is a nail for me, the love is a whip for me, the love is a crown of thorns for me, the love is all for me, the love is my eternal Passion, whereas what I endure in my Humanity is temporary. Ah! my child, enter in my Heart, come to get lost in my Love! In my Love you will understand only how much I suffer for you and how much I like you, and so you will learn to like me and to suffer by amour!»

--& Jesus laquoMon, since you call me in your Heart to make me see that that the love made you suffer, then me there between. But that I see? I see the prodigies of the love: it is not with natural thorns that the love crowns you the Head, but with thorns of fire; it is not with whips of ropes that it torments your adorable Body, but with whips of fire; it is not with nails of iron that it pierces you the Hands and the Feet, but with nails of fire. Everything that penetrates you until in the marrow of your Bones is late. Transforming all your infinitely holy Humanity in fire, the love gives you some unspeakable and deadly Pains, certainly more that your Passion herself, and it makes of your Blood a bath of love for all souls that want to clear some stain that it is and to acquire the right of the sons of the love.

& laquoÔ infinite Love, I feel confused before your Immensity and I see that, to be able to enter in the love and to understand it, I must be all love! My Jesus, as you want my company and that you want that I enter in you, I ask you to fill me completely of love. I implore you, therefore, to crown my head and each of my thoughts of the crown of the love. I implore you, oh Jesus, to flog me with the whips of the love. My soul, my body, my feelings, my desires, my affections, that all is flogged and under seal by the love. Make in sort, oh infinite Love, that all in me only lives by the love. Oh Jesus, center of all love, I implore you to nail me the hands and the feet with the nails of the love, so that I become Love, that I understand the love. That I am clothed by the love, fed by the love! That the love holds me all nailed to you, and that nothing, so much inside that outside of me, don't detach myself of the Amour!»

Reflections and convenient

Abandoned by his/her/its Father, Jesus endured during this hour a fire of love as he had the power to destroy all conceivable and possible sins, to inflame his/her/its Love all creatures, even of millions and millions of worlds, all reprobate of the hell, they were not so only eternally obstinate in their iniquity. Let's enter in Jesus, let's penetrate in his/her/its deepest Fibers, in his/her/its flaming Throbbings, in his/her/its blazing Intelligence, and let's seize of all this Love that fires it. Then us plunging in his/her/its Will, we will find all creatures there. Touching the heart and the intelligence of each with Jesus' love, with his/her/its Desires, his/her/its Palpitations and his/her/its Thoughts, let's form Jesus in each. Then, let's present him all creatures who carry it in their heart and let's put them around him while telling to him: & laquoJésus, I present you all creatures who possess you in their heart, to give you of the relief and the comfort. I don't know another means to relieve your Coeur!» That making, we will give a true relief to Jesus, because there is so many flames that burns it, that he/it tells us and retells us: & laquoJe is charred by the love and there is not no one that wants my Love. Of grace, relieve me, accept my Love and give me of the amour!»

To conform us in all thing to Jesus, we must go back in ourselves and put us this question: & laquoEn everything that I make, then me to say that there is a continuous flux of love that circulates between God and moi?» Our life is lived by an unceasing flux of love coming us of God. When we think, there is this flux of love; when we act, there is this flux of love; the speech is Love, the beatings of our heart are Love. Do we receive all of God, but our actions run them toward God with love? Does Jesus find in us the soft enchantment of his/her/its Love who, through us, return toward him, so that, done delight by this enchantment, does he abound with an even bigger Love for us? So in everything that we make, our love for God is not our first mobile of action, let's enter in ourselves and let's ask him forgiveness of it to have made lose the soft enchantment of our love return.

Do we let worry us by the divine Hands as that was the case for Jesus' humanity? Everything that happens to us, except the sin, us must consider it like an intense divine Activity in us. So such is not our attitude, we refuse to the Father the glory that is him, we take in flight the divine Life in us, and we lose the holiness. Everything that we feel ourselves of it: inspirations, tribulations, graces, are not anything else that the activity intense of the love in us. Do we see the things in this manner? Do we give to Jesus the liberty to work in us? Or while taking everything that happens to us in a human, stingy sense all as indifferent, do we repulse the activity intense of God in us, the coercive to cross itself/themselves the arms? Do we quit enters us his/her/its Arms as deaths to receive all brushstrokes that the Lord will give us for our sanctification?

& laquoMon Love and my All, that your Love floods me of all part and burn in me everything that is not of you. Make so that what is mine runs toward you, so that you can burn everything that could sadden your Heart. & raquo
(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Of 2h to 3h

Jesus, divine Sentry, whereas I sleep and that, you, you don't want to remain alone, you wake me up and make me be with you at Anne. He/it interrogates you on your Doctrine and your disciples. And you, oh Jesus, to defend the Father's Glory, you answer for a resonant and worthy Voice: & spoken laquoJ'ai in public, and all those that are here have me entendu!»
To these Words, all tremble but, perfidiously, a servant approaches of you and one-handed iron-shod gives you a slap so strong that she makes you vacillate and makes livid your soft Face! Now, oh my soft Life, I understand why you woke me up. You were right! In fact, who would have sustained you when you were about to fall?

And while your enemies explode a satanic laughter, hiss and beat the hands, applauding to this act so unjust, you, shaky, you don't have anybody on that to push you. My Jesus, I kiss you and I make of my being a protective wall for you; I offer myself to you to support all pain by love for you! I sympathize with you for this outrage and with you I repair the shyness of so many souls that discourage themselves easily, of those that, being afraid, don't say the truth, of those that lack respect for the priests, of those that express themselves by whispers.

Oh my Jesus grief-stricken, Anne sends you in Caïphe. But I see that, during the displacement, your enemies make you fall in a staircase. And you, my Love, by this fall, you repair for those that, taking advantage of darkness of the night, fall in the mistake. Jesus, I want to unite my damages to yours, and while you will go to Caïphe, I will send you my affection to defend you of your enemies. Enter time I will sleep. And you, continue to be my sentry of love; wake up me when your Love will push you to call me to hold you company. Give me your soft to Kiss while me, giving a kiss to your beloved Heart, I close the eyes, taking the sleep that my nature requires.

Reflections and convenient

Jesus is interrogated by Anne on his/her/its Doctrine and his/her/its disciples. To glorify the Father, he/it answers as for his/its Doctrine, but he/it doesn't speak of his/its disciples not to miss to the charity. And us, when it is about glorifying the Lord, are we audacious and courageous, or do we let defeat us by the human respect? We must always say the truth, even before important people! When do we speak, do we look for still God's Glory? And to exalt God's Glory, we support all with patience as Jesus? Do we always know how to avoid to speak in pain of the neighbor, and know to excuse it to us if we hear other people who say some of the pain?

Does Jesus watch over our heart, and us, do we know how to supervise us in all things, so that our looks, our words, our affections, our emotions, our thoughts and our desires, are as many sentries around Jesus to watch over his/her/its Heart and all to repair? And when Jesus calls us, are we ready to answer? God's Calls can make himself/itself hear numerous manners: by the inspirations, by the reading of good books, by the examples received, by the appeals of the Grace, and even by the inclemencies. My Jesus, that your soft Voice always resounds in my heart and that everything that surrounds me either a continual voice me appelant to like you! That the harmony of your divine Voice stops from paying attention to all other voice that could distract me of you!

(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Oh my afflicted Good and abandoned, my weak nature sleeps, however my sleep is very often interrupted by the squeezings of love and the Suffering of your divine Heart. And while I am between the waking state and the one of sleep, I hear the strokes that carry you your enemies. My poor Jesus, abandoned of all, doesn't have no one that takes your defense? I offer you my life to serve you of support when they will make you knock something. Enter time, I doze again. But another squeezing of love of your divine Heart wakes up, and I feel my ears to become deaf because of the people who arrive, the whispers, the screams and the abuses.

My Love, why are they all against you? What did you make so that, as as many starved wolves, do they want to put you in pieces? I feel my blood to freeze itself/themselves in my veins to see the preparations of your enemies. I tremble and feel sad while I think about the manner that I will use to defend you.

And Jesus seems to tell me: & laquoMon child, I didn't make again quite! The love includes all sacrifices; the love is of an immeasurable cost; we are again in the beginning. You, remain in my Heart: observe all, like me, say nothing about you and learn. And that your blood, frozen of compassion, circulates in my Veins to restore my Blood that is in fire. Your tremor, make so that he/it browses my Members, so that identified to me you can fortify yourself and can warm you, to feel a part of my Pains. You will acquire strength while seeing me suffering to this point. It will be the most beautiful defense that you can grant me. Be faithful and attentive!»

My soft Love, the uproar of your enemies is so considerable that it prevents me to take a little sleep. The strokes become more violent. I hear the noise of the chains with which they attached you tight so that springs of Blood of your Wrists, which mark these streets. Remind you that my blood is in yours and, while you pour yours, mine you give a kiss there, adores you and repair, so that your Blood is Light for all those that offend you in the night. That he/it is a magnet to attract all hearts to you.
My Love and my All, while they drag you, air is burdened of screams and hisses. And you arrive at Caïphe. You are restful, modest and humble; your Sweetness and your Patience are such that they terrorize your very enemies. And Caïphe becomes furious; he seems to want to devour you. Ah! as the innocence and the sin overrule themselves easily!

My Love, you are in front of Caïphe like a guilty party in the process of to be condemned. Caïphe asks the witnesses what are your offenses. Ah! he/it would have made to implore your forgiveness better! One shows of a thing, another of another; one says some silliness and one contradicts itself. And while one accuses you, some soldiers pull you Hair, slap you of manner so horrible that they make resound the whole room. They mistreat you, beat you, prick you. But when you look at them, the Light of your Eyes descends them in the heart, and as they are not able to the supporter, they move away of you.

Other soldiers take the relief. And you, in the middle of so many accusations and outrages, you keep the silence; your Heart beats strong so that it seems about to explode. You receive with a lot of love the brutalities of your enemies; you offer them for our salute. Thus, in the biggest calmness, your Heart repairs the calumnies, the hates, the false evidence, the hurts the innocents deliberately; it repairs the offenses made to the instigation of the chiefs, and the mistakes committed by the dedicated souls. I feel that a new Suffering afflicts your Heart. Say me what it is, oh Jesus; make me participate in all! And Jesus seems to tell me: & laquoMon child, do you want to know it? I hear Pierre's voice that doesn't pretend to know me, that swear it, and swears it again. Ah! Pierre, don't you know myself? Don't you remember all Kindness of which I filled you? If the other make me die of pains, you, you make me die of pain! As you made to expose you on the occasions badly while following me of loin!»

My Good disowned, as they recognize themselves quickly the offenses of those that you are the dearest! Oh Jesus, I want to make pass the beatings of my heart in yours to ease your tortures. And my palpitations swear you fidelity, love, and swear a thousand times that I know you. But your Heart doesn't calm itself: you try to see Pierre. To your Looks of love, to the Tears that you pour because of his/her/its repudiation, Pierre is moved, cry and move away. And you, having placed it at the shelter, you calm yourself and you repair the offenses of the soulsdedicated; you repair for the souls that get voluntarily in the opportunities of sin.

But your enemies continue to accuse you. Seeing that you don't answer anything their accusations, Caïphe tells to you: & laquoJe implores you by the living God, say me: you are indeed Then the Son of Dieu?» you, my Love, always having at heart the Truth and your Father's Glory, you answer with a resonant and majestic Voice as all remain struck to some and that the very demons penetrate in the abyss: & laquoC'est you that say it; I am God's Son, and one day I will descend on the clouds of the Sky to judge all nations. & raquo
To these solemn Words, all makes silence and shiver of terror. After some instants of his/her/its own terror, Caïphe, furious like a ferocious beast, told all,: & laquoÀ what good the witnesses now? He/it has just uttered a big blasphemy. For what do we wait besides to condemn it? He/it is guilty of mort!» And to give more pomposity to his/her/its sacrilegious words, he/it tears his/its clothes with so much wrath as all, as if they only trained one person, scream: & laquoIl is guilty of death! He/it is guilty of mort!» And they speed along on you and, as much as possible,distribute you punches, kicks, slaps and spits to the Face. The Torments that they give to you, oh my Good, are as the earth and the Sky are upset some!

My Love and my Life, during these terrifying moments, my heart is torn by the pain! Of grace, allow me to go in your Heart grief-stricken and to face these outrages in your place! Ah! if it was possible to me, I would like to make to you escape you of the hands of your enemies. But you, you don't want, because it is required for the salute of all. And I am obliged to resign me! But, my soft Love, let me set you in condition, to arrange your Hair, to remove the spits and the Blood that cover your Face, and to lock me in your Heart in, because I see that Caïphe wants to leave the piece and to put back you between the hands of the soldiers.

I adore you oh my Jesus. Bless me, give me the mystical Kiss of the love. I lock myself in the furnace of your divine Heart to take a little sleep in.I push my head on your Heart, so that, by my breathings, I give you some kissings and that, according to the diversity of the Beatings of your Heart, I can realize if you suffer or if you take a rest.
Oh Jesus, I kiss you, I tighten myself strong against your Heart, and I fall asleep.

Reflections and convenient

Owing Caïphe, Jesus is accused unjustly and is submitted to extraordinary tortures. Interrogated, he/it always says the truth. And us, when the Lord permits that one calumniates us or that one accuses us unjustly, do we shelter ourselves solely in God, him that knows our innocence? Or let's beg ourselves the esteem and the honors of the creatures? Do our lips say still the truth? Are we enemies of all ruse or all lie? Do we support with patience the derisions and confusions coming from the creatures? Are we ready to give our life for the salute of these creatures? Ohmy soft Jesus, as I am different from you! Of grace, make so that my lips always say the truth in order to reach the heart of those that listens me to drive them to you!
(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Mon Jesus grief-stricken, one now came you out of jail. You are if exhausted that you vacillate to each of your Steps. Permit that I stand near you to sustain you when you will be about to fall. I see that the soldiers present you again before Caïphe. And you, oh my Jesus, you appear among them like a sun. And although you are disfigured, you radiate of Light. I perceive that Caïphe exults to see you in bad shape so. And before your Light, he/it becomes even blinder.

In his/her/its fury he/it restarts to interrogate you: & laquoDonc, you are the Son of Dieu?» And you, my Love, with majesty, but of your usual, soft and moving Accent, you answer: & laquoOui, I am the Son of Dieu!» although they feel in them the whole strength of these Words, these iniquitous men choke in them all good feeling and shout an unanimous voice: & laquoIl is guilty of death! He/it is guilty of death. & raquo
Caïphe confirms the sentence of death and sends you to Pilate. And you, my Jesus convicted, you accept this sentence of the iniquitous Pontiff with Love and resignation. You repair the sins thus committed deliberately and with mischief, the sins of those that, instead of being distressed of the pain, exult and exult of him sinned even, what drives them to the blindness and to the dismissal of all Light and all Grace. My Life, your Damages and your Prayers make echo in my heart: I want to repair and to pray with you.

My soft Love, I see that while seeing you convicted to death by Caïphe, the soldiers lost all mercy: they add you of the ropes and chains and tighten you strong so that they nearly remove you all possibility of movement. And they push you and drag you to make come you out of the palace. Some crowds wait for you, but there is not anybody to defend you. And you, my divine Sun, you leave among them to illuminate them of your Light. While not making these, you want to contain in yours all steps of the creatures. You pray and you repair for those that make their steps to act in the pain, to take vengeance, to kill, to betray, to fly, etc. And to prevent so much pain, you pray, you repair and you offer yourself to the Father.

Oh Jesus, I see that while coming down from the palace of Caïphe you meet the one that is your sun, Marie, your soft Mom. Your Looks meet and, although you are happy to see you, some particular Pains transfix your Hearts: it is for you the Pain to see your Mom grief-stricken, pale and overwhelmed by the mourning; and it is his/her/its Pain to see you, you, divine Sun, eclipsed by so many opprobriums and all covered of Blood. You also live the pain not to be able to exchange would be that that a speech. Your Hearts, however, communicate themselves all, founding one in the other. But you stop looking at you quickly, because the soldiers push you, oh my Jesus. And jostled thus and dragged, you arrive at the Roman governor Pilate. My Jesus, I unite to your Mom afflicted to follow you, me melting in you with her. And you, throwing me a Look of love, you bless myself!

Reflections and convenient

Jesus leaves in light of the day and one brings it before Caïphe. There, with firmness, he/it confirms that he/it is God's Son. And us, when we leave, do we let drive us by Jesus? Do we add witnesses of the Truth? Is our behavior an example for the other? Do our steps drive the souls to Jesus?
My Jesus, absolute Holiness, guide me, and make so that all my to be, including my outside behavior, manifest in me your divine Life.

(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.My Very chained, your united enemies to the priests present you to Pilate and, affecting the holiness and the rectitude, remain outside, in the atrium, not to be soiled, since they must celebrate tomorrow the Passover.And you, my Love, through their mischief, you repair all hypocrisies of church people. And I want to repair with you.

But while you worry on the contrary of their good, them, begin to accuse you by the tribune, vomiting against you the whole venom that they carry in their heart. But, not being satisfied with the accusations that they carry against you and to be able to support his/her/its judgment better, Pilate calls you aside, and examine your situation deprived some. He/it asks you: & laquoEs you the king of the Juifs?»s And you, my true King Jésus, you answer: & laquoMon Reigns is not of this world; if my Reign was of this world, my ministers would make all their efforts so that I am not handed to the power of the Jews. & raquo

Pilate, surprised and touched by the suavity and the dignity of your Words, told to you,: & laquoComment, you are roi?» And you take: & laquoJe is it, and I came in the world to teach the Truth. & Pilate raquo asks you for what it is, the Truth, but he doesn't wait for the answer. Convinced of your innocence, he/it leaves on the terrace and says: & laquoMoi, I don't find any mistake in this man. & raquo The Jews, mad, accuse you of a lot of other things, and you, you are quiet and don't forbid you. Thus, you repair the weaknesses of the judges when they face the violent people, and you pray for the oppressed and abandoned innocents. Seeing the fury of your enemies and to pull itself/themselves a thorn of the foot, Pilate sends you at Hérode.

My divine King, I want to participate in your Prayers and your Damages, and to come with you until at Hérode. I see that, furious, your enemies would like to devour you. They drive you at Hérode among the abuses and the mockeries. Hérode, happy to see you, asks you a lot of questions. You, you don't answer anything; you don't even look at it. Angry because his/her/its curiosities are not satisfied, and as feeling humiliated by your silence, he/it proclaims before all that you are a mad, and he/it orders that you are treated like a mad. So he/it makes you don a white garment and puts you between the hands of the soldiers, so that they ridicule you most possible. My innocent Jesus, no one finds mistake in you; only the Jews find some, because their affected religiosity stops the Light of the Truth from being resplendent in their intelligence.

My Jesus, infinite Wisdom, what Sufferings bring you the fact of have been declared mad by Hérode! The soldiers abuse you: they throw to you on the floor, trample you, soil you of spits, ridicule you, beat you with stick. The pains, the humiliations and the opprobriums that you receive are such and so numerous that the angels cry and cover themselves the face of their wings not to see you if brutalized.
Me also, oh my soft Jesus, I want to be called mad, but mad of love. She/it is so big your madness of love, that to the place to crumple you of everything that one makes to you, you pray and repair for the kings who establish their reign while ruining some peoples, for the numerous massacres that they make, for the blood that they make flow by caprice, for their sins of curiosity, for the mistakes committed in the courses and in the armies.
My Jesus, what moving spectacle that to see to ask you and to repair with leniency and fidelity in the middle of so many outrages! Your Prayers reverberate in my heart. And now, let me, oh Jesus, to hold me close to you, to take part in your Pains and to comfort you by my love. And to move away of you your enemies and to comfort you, let me take you between my arms.

Oh my Jesus, I kiss your infinitely holy Forehead; by all Pains that you undergo, purify my thoughts. I kiss your Eyes sparkling of Light; that this Light surrounds me and penetrate my thoughts, my looks, my words and my heart. I kiss your infinitely holy Ears; sanctifies my ears.
I kiss your soft and holy Face; make me me éprendre of your Beauty, me and all creatures, to compensate you of all abuses and the mockeries that you receive to the palace of Hérode. I kiss your saint Mouth; give me the Grace of ever to say the words that could offend your divine No one; and I want to repair all offenses that makes you the other. I spread your divine Arms and I tighten you strong on my heart, asking you to really want to print your picture in my intelligence, my heart, my works, in all,. I kiss your right hand; distributes your efficient Graces for the conversion of the sinners, and give to all beneficial fruits of your infinitely holy Acts. I kiss your left Hand; prints in me your Virtues and especially your Charity.
I kiss your left Foot; give me the knowledge of myself. I kiss your right Foot; give me the Grace to obey with promptness. Finally, I kiss your infinitely pure Heart; consume me in the ardent Flames of your Love!

My soft Love, I see that these sinister individuals don't give you any respite and that Hérode sends back you to Pilate. If your first arrival at Pilate was painful, your second the is more again, because I see that the Jews are infuriated more than before, and that it is to all price that they solved to make die you. Therefore, before you leave the palace of Hérode, I want to tighten you on my heart to testify you my love. And you, fortify me by your mystical Kiss and by your Blessing; and I will follow you until before Pilate.

Reflections and convenient

Jesus, presented to Pilate in the middle of so much abuse and contempt, remains always soft. He/it doesn't disdain anybody and at all he/it tries to make be resplendent the Light of the Truth. And us, do we try to defeat our bad mood if someone doesn't reveal us a friendship? When do we have business to the creatures, do we always try to make know Jesus and to make be resplendent for them the Light of his/her/its Truth? Oh Jesus, my soft Life, dish on my lips your Words and make that I always speak with your Language.
Owing Hérode, Jesus is quiet when one dresses it like a mad; and he endures extraordinary Pains. And us, when we are calumniated, done ridicule, done insult, done joking, do we think that the Lord wants us to make him look? In our pains, or when the other despise us, or in everything that our poor heart can feel, we think that that who, by his/her/its divine Key, is Jesus give us these sufferings and transform us in himself? And when the suffering restarts for us, do we think that Jesus, visiting us again, gives us another embrace for us to be able to make him look quite?

To Jesus' example, we have the mastery of ourselves? Instead of retorting at the time of the annoyances, we know how to say nothing about us? Do we let defeat us by the curiosity? My Love and my All, be the only one to take the mastery of my heart, and hold enters him your Hands, so that in my meetings, I can reproduce in me your big Patience.
(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

The flogging

Of 9 hs at 10 o'clock

My Jesus, infinite Love, more I look at you and more I see how much you suffer. You are quite torn; doesn't have any healthy part in your Body. The executioners are furious to see that in spite of so many Sufferings, you always look at them with Love. And your Look in love, forming a soft enchantment, research of new Sufferings. Your executioners, not only because they are cruel, but as forced to their unawareness by your Love, establish you to inflict you of new torments. But you, at the end of strengths, you fall again in your Blood. And it is with foot and while pushing you that the executioners, angry, made you to arrive instead where they will crown you of thorns. My Love, if you don't sustain myself of your Look, I won't be able to continue to see tortured you thus.

I feel some thrills in my bones, I have the heart that beats, I feel to die: & laquoJésus, Jesus, help-moi!» And you, you seem to tell me: & laquoMon child, courage, don't lose anything of that that I endure, be attentive to my Teachings. I must redo the man in all things. His/her/its mistakes crowned it of opprobriums and confusion, so that he/it cannot appear before my Majesty; his/her/its mistakes dishonored it while making him lose straight ahead to honors and to the glory. Therefore, I want to be crowned of thorns to put back his/her/its crown on his/her/its forehead and to restore him all his/her/its rights, his/her/its honor and his/her/its glory. My thorns will be in front of my Father damages and exculpation for his/her/its numerous sins in his/her/its thoughts, especially for his/her/its pride. My thorns will be light sources for every created intelligence, of the supplication voices so that they don't offend me anymore. You, unite you to me, pray and repair with me. & raquo
Pursuing in their cruelties, your enemies make you sit, deposit on you a rag of purple, take a crown of thorns that they have just manufactured and, with an infernal fury, place it on your adorable Head. Then, with stick, they make you penetrate the thorns in the Head. The thorns arrive to your Eyes and your Ears, penetrate your Skull until behind your Nape. My Love, what torment, what immeasurable sufferings! How many cruel deaths you don't undergo! Blood flows on your Face: one only sees Blood. But under these thorns and this Blood, one sees your beaming infinitely holy Face the Sweetness, the Peace and the love.

Pursuing with their mockeries, your executioners put you a reed to the Hand in manner of scepter and begin their sarcasms. They greet you like King of the Jews, beating your crown and slapping you. And you, you are quiet and repair the ambitions of those that long for to reign, that searches for the dignities, that, being in authority and not behaving well, cause the ruin of the peoples and souls on which they have authority! By means of this reed that you hold in your Hand, soft Jesus, you repair a lot of works, maybe good in itself, but emptiness of interior mind and make even in bad intentions. By the abuses and the mockeries that you undergo, you repair for those that desecrate and ridicule the holy things. My King Jésus, your enemies continue their abuses. There is Blood that sinks your Head that he/it reaches some so until in your Mouth, stopping you from making me hear your Voice clearly. Jesus, I want to put my head under these thorns, in order to feel their stings. Oh Jesus, as it is good to be with you, even in the middle of one thousand torments!

And you seem to tell me: & laquoMon child, these thorns say that I want to be King of every heart, that it is mine that come back all domination. You, take these thorns and prick you the heart, make leave everything that I don't belong of it, and let a thorn in your heart as recall that it is I your King, to prevent that something else there between. Go to all hearts and, while pricking them, make leave all smoke of pride, all rot, of it and constitute me King of all. & raquo Oh my Love, I ask you to prick me the ears of your thorns, so that they can only hear your Voice; my eyes so that they only look at you; my mouth so that my language remains mute in relation to everything that could offend you and free to rent you and to bless you in all things. Oh my King, surround me with thorns, and that these thorns keep me all attentive to you. Jesus, I want to wipe your Blood and the kiss, because I see that your enemies drive you to Pilate, who is going to condemn you to death! My Love, help me to continue to come with you on your painful path. My heart, that has been wounded by your Love and transfixed by your thorns, cannot live without you.

And there are you now before Pilate. What moving spectacle! The Heaven is seized of horror and the hell trembles of fear and rage! Oh my Life, I cannot support to see you in such a state, but the attraction of your Love brings me to look at you nevertheless, so that I understand your Sufferings well. Through my tears and my sighs of love, I contemplate you.
My Jesus, you are nearly naked. Instead of your clothes, you are donned of Blood. Your Fleshes are torn, your Bones are denuded, and your infinitely holy Face is hardly recognizable. The thorns driven in your Head you arrive until the Eyes and to the Face. Your precious Blood flows out until earth.

My Jesus, I don't recognize you anymore. As you are in bad shape! You arrived to the deepest excesses of the humiliations and torments! Ah! I cannot support this view so laborious anymore. I feel to die! I would like to avoid of Pilate's presence to lock you in my heart in and to give you of rest. I would like to heal your Wounds by my love. I would like to flood of your Blood the whole world to reach all souls and to bring them to you as your conquests! Oh patient Jesus, it is with difficulty that through the thorns you watch me. And you tell to me: & laquoMon child, come between my Arms, push your head on my Chest, and you will discern some Sufferings more intense and crueller, because what you see my Humanity outside is only the echo of my interior Pains. Pay attention to the Beatings of my Heart and you will understand that I repair the injustices of those that order, the oppressions that they exercise on the poor people and the innocents, their pride that, to get the dignities, of the functions or wealth, don't be inconvenienced to disobey the elementary laws of their conscience and to scrape their neighbor, closing their eyes in light of the Truth.

& laquoPar these thorns, I want to break their pride, and by the holes that they make in my Head, I want to pave me a path in their intelligence, for all there to reorganize according to the Light of the Truth. As being humiliated thus before this unjust judge, I want to make all understand that the only virtue is the one that returns the main man of himself. And I teach to those that order that the virtue united to the honest knowledge is the only one that makes capable to govern and to direct the other, while the dignities without the virtue are dangerous things and to deplore. My child, make echo to my Damages and continuous to contemplate my Pains. & raquo My Love, I see that, you seer so in bad shape, Pilate shivers and, impressed, exclaim: & laquoEst him possible that has so much cruelty in human chests? Ah! it was not what I wanted when I condemned it to be battu!» And, wanting to free you among the hands of your enemies, all humble and while diverting from you his/her/its look--because he/it cannot support the view of your horrible state--, he/it restarts to interrogate you: & does laquoMais say me, that you did make? Your people handed you between my hands: do say me, are you a king? What is your royaume?»

As you don't answer his/her/its questions, Pilate adds: & laquoNe knows you not that it is in my power to free you or of you condamner?» Then, oh my Love, wanting to make be resplendent in Pilate's intelligence the Light of your Truth, you answer: & laquoTu would not have on me any power if it didn't come to you of in top; however, those that handed me between your hands committed a more serious sin than yours. & raquo Then, touched by the sweetness of your Voice, Pilate decides, the tormented heart, to show you to the people from his/her/its stall, hoping that the Jews would be taken of compassion while seeing you if disfigured, and that he be able to thus free you. My Jesus saddened, it is with difficulty that you walk, bent under this horrible crown of thorns. Your Blood marks your Steps. And while arriving outside, you see the crowd in tumult that, anxious, waits for your condemnation. Pilate imposes the silence to bring back everybody to the attention and to make itself/themselves hear all. He/it takes with disgust the two shreds of the crimson that cover you the Chest and the Shoulders, raise it, so that all see the pitiable state in which you are. In a high voice he/it tells: & laquo Ecce Homo! Look at it, he/it doesn't have a man's appearance anymore. Observe his/her/its Wounds, one doesn't recognize it anymore. If he/it made the pain, he/it already endured enough, even too much. Me, I regret it to have made suffer so much, let's let it therefore libre!» TO these words, he/it makes himself/itself a deep silence in the Sky, on earth and in hell! Then, as only one voice, I hear the scream of all: & laquoCrucifie him, crucify it! We want it Jesus mort!», my Love, let me sustain you, because I see that you vacillate under so much dejection. Jesus, my Life, I see that you tremble. This scream of condemnation to death penetrates your Heart. And in these voices you discern the Voice of your dear Father that says: & laquoMon Son, I want you death, and death crucifié!» You also hear your Mom that, although she/it is grieved some, makes echo to your dear Father while saying: & laquoFils, I want you mort!» The angels, the saints, the hell, all, of an unanimous voice, shout: & laquoCrucifie him, crucify-le.» so that there is not no soul that lives that wants you death. And, to my biggest horror, me also I feel constraint by a supreme strength to shout: & laquoCrucifie-le!» My Jesus, forgive to the miserable sinner that I am to want you death! I ask you to make die me with you.

And you, oh my Jesus tortured, he seems that, touched by my suffering, you tell to me: & laquoMon child, tighten you on my Heart and take part to my Pains and to my Damages. The moment is solemn: or it is my death, or it is the death of all creatures. At the moment, two currents flow in my Heart; has the souls in one that, if they want me death, it is because they want to find in me Life; and so, as I accept the death in their place, they are freed of the eternal condemnation and the doors of the Sky open up to them. In the other current, there are the souls that want me death by hate and for the confirmation of their condemnation; my Heart is torn some and feels the death of each and the very pains of the hell where they head! Ah! my Heart doesn't support these cruel Sufferings and makes me repeat: why so much versed Blood in vain? why will my Pains be useless for so many souls? My child, sustain me, I am not able to some anymore, take part in my Pains. That your life is a continual offering to save the souls, to ease my tortures!»,And I want to participate in your Damages. I see that to the screams of the crowd, Pilate is stunned. He/it hurries to say: & laquoComment, must I crucify your King? Me, I don't find a mistake of it him to condemn it. & raquo And the Jews shout while deadening air: & laquoNous doesn't have another king that Caesar. If you don't condemn it, you are not Caesar's friend. Crucify it! Crucify-le!» Pilate, knowing how to make only and fearing to be deposited, makes itself bring a bowl of water and, washing the hands, said,: & laquoMoi, I am innocent of the Blood of this just. & raquo And he/it delivers you to the crucifixion.


But the Jews add: & laquoQue his/her/its Blood falls again on us and on our enfants!» And, you seer convicted, they make the feast, beat some hands, hiss, scream. And you, oh Jesus, you repair for those that are in the high ranks of the society and that, propelled ba vain fear and not to lose their station, disobey the most sacred laws, not worrying of the ruin of whole peoples, encouraging the impious and condemning the innocents. You also repair for those that, after their mistake, incite the divine Anger fiendishly to punish them. And while you repair all it, your Heart bleeds because of the Suffering to see your chosen people marked of the malediction of the Sky that it comes himself to call, sealing it of your Blood that they called on their own head! Ah! your Heart vanishes. Let me sustain you, sharing your Damages and your Pains. But your Love pushes you further, and, impatient, you look for the cross! My Life, I will follow you, but, for the meantime, rest you in my arms. After, we will go together to Mount Calvary. Remain in me and bless me.

Reflections and convenient

Crowned Jesus of thorns is treated like a king of joke and is submitted to abuses and the extraordinary Pains. He/it repairs our sins of pride thus. And us, do we avoid the thoughts of pride? Do we know how to assign to God the although we make? Do we know how to estimate us lower to the other? Do we know how to keep our intelligence exempt of frivolous thoughts? Often we are not receptive to the Grace, because we keep our intelligence occupied by frivolous thoughts. And then, as our intelligence is not all full of God, the demon finds the free way to bother us; it is a little as if it was ourselves that fomented our temptations. When our intelligence is filled of God, then, not finding in us of place where to direct his/her/its temptations, the demon moves away confused. The holy thoughts have so much by force against the demon that, when he/it wants to approach of us, these thoughts, as as many swords, wound it and makes it to move away. It is therefore to wrong that we moan when our intelligence is bothered by the enemy; it is our lack of vigilance that incites it to attack us. It is as if he/it spied on our intelligence to discover some shortcomingses there and to go up to the assault. Then, instead of relieving Jesus by our saints thoughts and to remove him his/her/its thorns, we are urgent them to him on the Head, and the Grace cannot present to our intelligence of saints inspirations.

Often we make worse. When we feel the weight of the temptations, instead of presenting them to Jesus to make the fire of his/her/its Love burn them, us worry, we sadden ourselves, we make some calculations, so that not only our intelligence is occupied by the bad thoughts, but again our to be entire in is impregnated; and Jesus' miracle is nearly necessary to free of it to us. It is as if, through his/her/its thorns, Jesus looked at us and said us: & laquoAh! my child, it is yourself that doesn't want to be close to me. So only you had immediately come to me, I would have helped you to free you of the enemy's vexations and you would not have made me sigh after you. I looked for your cooperation to free me of thorns, but it is in vain that I waited for you, because you were occupied by the intense work that your enemy had given to you. Oh! as you would be less so immediately tempted you came in my Arms. Then the enemy would fear me myself, rather than you, and it is immediately that he would let to you. & raquo My Jesus, that your thorns lock my thoughts in your Intelligence in and stop the enemy from overwhelming me of temptations. When does Jesus make himself/itself hear in our intelligence and our heart, do we answer his/her/its Inspirations or let's forget them quickly us? Jesus is treated like a king of joke. And us, do we know how to respect the holy things? Before them, do we know how to use the reverence that invites, as if we touched to Christ himself? My crowned Jesus of thorns, make that I feel your thorns, so that by their stings I understand how much you suffer and that I know how to consider you as my King.

Standing in Pilate's stall, Jesus is condemned to death by this people that he liked so much and to which he made so much good. To give us life, Jesus accepts to die to our place. And us, are we ready to accept some pains so that Jesus is not offended and endure less? As Jesus suffered extremely in his/her/its Humanity, us, that must continue his/her/its Life on earth, we must, by means of our pains, to pay it back. Do we know how to sympathize to the pains that Jesus endures at the sight of the numerous souls that are pulled to his/her/its Heart? The Jews want that Jesus dies crucified like an infamous, so that his/her/its name is erased of the face of the earth. And us, do we want indeed that Jesus lives on the earth? By our actions, our examples and our steps, we must spill the divine prints in the world so that Jesus is known of all. By our acting, we must make so that our life is an echo of his/her/its Life, and that this echo makes itself hear the from end to end three times re. s we ready to give our life so that our beloved Jesus is compensated of all offenses that are made to him, or let's imitate ourselves the Jews while shouting with them: & laquoque him is crucifié!»?
My Jesus convicted, I want, by love for you, to share your condemnation. And to comfort you, I want to pour my love continually in you and to pour you in the heart of all creatures to communicate your Life to all.

(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.

Of 10h to 11h

My Jesus, insatiable Love, I see that you don't give yourself one instant of respite. I feel your ardent Desires of love. Your Heart beats strong and, to every Beating, I feel your burstings and your violences of love. Capable to contain the fire that consumes you, you get tired, you moan, you sigh and, to each of your whining, I hear you to say: & laquoCroix!» Every drop of your Blood proclaims: & laquoCroix!» All your Pains, in which you drown as in an immense sea, repeat: & laquoCroix!» And you exclaim: & laquoÔ beloved Cross and wanted so ardently, you only will save my children. In you I concentrate all my Amour!»

Your enemies make you go in the court and, wanting to make you take your clothes, remove you the crimson of which you are covered. But what Suffering! It would be easier to die that to see to stand you so much! The garment clings to your crown of thorns and they cannot remove it. Then, with an inhuman cruelty, they pull to you suddenly and the garment and the crown. This cruel stroke breaks several thorns that stay driven in your Head. And your Blood flows abundantly. You moan under the pain. But, not worrying about your tortures, your enemies thread you your garment, and put back you the crown again. And as they are urgent it strongly on your Head, the thorns you arrive until the Eyes and to the Ears; so that there is not no part of your infinitely holy Head that feels the pains of it. Your Suffering is so big that you vacillate, aspens of the head to the feet and that you are about to die. And of your languid and full Eyes of Blood, it is with difficulty that you look at me to ask me of help in this extreme distress.

My Jesus, King of the Pains, let me to sustain you and to tighten you on my heart. I would like to take the fire that devours you to reduce in ashes your enemies and to put you to the shelter. But you, you don't want, because your Desires of the Cross make themselves more ardent, and that you want to sacrifice immediately on her for all, even for your enemies! But while I tighten myself on your Heart and than you you tighten yourself on mine, you tell to me: & laquoMon child, let me give free course to my Love and, with me, repair for those that, while making the good, dishonor me. These Jews make me take my clothes more for me déconsidérer before the people, in order to convince it that I am a malefactor. Apparently, the action to clothe me is good but, in their heart, it is bad. How many people make good works, manage the sacraments or frequent them, but to human ends, otherwise frankly bad.

& laquoLe well, when he/it is made badly, door to the toughness. I want to be crowned a second time, with crueller Sufferings than to the first, to break this toughness, and for so to attract the men to me. Ah! my child, this second coronation I am a lot more painful than the first; I feel my Head as if she/it swam in the thorns. And to every movement that I make or to every shock that one gives to me, these are as many cruel deaths as I live. I repair thus for those that, instead of thinking about their own sanctification, vanish and reject my Grace, while me, I moan and want their salute ardently. Ah! I make all to like the creatures and these make all to offend me! You at least, don't let me only in my Pains and in my Réparations!»s My tortured Good, with you I repair, with you I suffer. There I see that your enemies make you fall in a staircase. And after, feverishly, they make you arrive to the Cross, all ready, that with so ardent Desires you look for. It is with Love that you look at it and that, of an assured Step, you approach to seize of it to you. But first, you give him a Kiss. And while your infinitely holy Humanity shivers of joy, you look at it and in measures the length and the width. You establish a portion of it for every creature. You endow some sufficiently for each, in order to bind it to the Divinity by the bond of matrimony and to return her heiress of Kingdom of the Heaven. Then, capable to contain the love with which you like us, you restart to give him some Kissings and you tell to him:

& adored laquoCroix, finally I kiss you. You are the ardent Desire of my Heart, the martyrdom of my Love. You lingered until now, while it was always toward you that my Steps headed. Saint Cross, it is here below you the goal of my existence. In you I concentrate all my to be, in you I place all my children. You will be their life, their light, their defense, their guard and their strength; you will rescue them in all things and you will bring them to me glorious to the Sky. & laquoÔ Cross, chair of Wisdom, you only will teach the true holiness, you only will form the heroes, the athletes, the martyrs, the saints. Beautiful Cross, it is you my Throne. And while I must leave this earth, you, you will always be mine. I give you in dowry all souls; keeps them to me, save them to me. Me you the confie!»

And, anxious, you make it to you to place on your infinitely holy Shoulders. Ah! my Jesus, your Cross is too light for your Love. But to his/her/its weight is added the one of our mistakes, as heavy as the whole earth. Oh my Good, you feel crushed under the weight of so many mistakes; your Soul quivers of horror to their view and it feels the pain of each. Your Holiness is shaken before so much ugliness and, therefore, while receiving the Cross on your Shoulders, you vacillate, the breath misses to you, and of your infinitely holy Humanity sinks a deadly sweat.

My Love, my soul doesn't support to let you only. I want to share with you the weight of your Cross and, to raise the weight of our mistakes, I tighten myself against your Feet; I want to give you in the name of all creatures of the love for whoever don't like you, of the praises for whoever despise you, the blessings, acknowledgments, the obedience for all. My Jesus, for all offenses that you will receive, I want to offer you my person to repair. I want to make the acts opposed to the offenses that the creatures make to you, and to comfort you by my kissings and my continual acts of love. But I know strong although I am too miserable and that I need you to be able to repair indeed. Therefore, I unite to your infinitely holy Humanity. I unite my thoughts to yours to repair my bad thoughts and those of all, I unite my eyes to yours to repair the bad looks, my mouth to her yours to repair the blasphemies and the bad conversations, my heart to yours to repair the tendencies, the affections and the bad desires. In a word, I want to repair everything that your infinitely holy Humanity repairs while uniting me to your infinite Love and to the very immense that you make to all.
But I am not even happy; I want to unite to your Divinity. I want to lose my nothing in your Divinity and, so, I will be able all to give you. I give you your Love to mop your bitterness, your Heart in repair of our coldness, of our lacks of reciprocity, our ingratitudes and our lack of love. I give you your Harmonies to compensate you of the outrages that you receive by the blasphemies. I give you your Beauty to compensate you of the ugliness of our soul when she/it is soiled by the sin. I give you your Purity to compensate you of our lacks of straightforwardness of intention and the mud that cover so many souls. I give you your Ardor to burn all sins and to warm all hearts, so that all like you, and that no one offends you more. In short, I give you everything that you are to give you a total satisfaction, an eternal and infinite Love.

My infinitely patient Jesus, you make your first Steps under the immense weight of the Cross, and I unite my steps to yours. And when, weak, bled to white and vacillating, you will be about to fall, I will be at your side to sustain you; I will lend you my shoulders to share with you the weight of the Cross. Don't disdain myself, but accept me as your faithful companion.

Oh Jesus, I see that you repair for all those that don't carry with resignation their cross, that swears, irritate, commit suicide or makes some murders. You implore for all resignation to their own cross. But you feel crushed under your Cross. You are some to your first Steps with her, and already you fall under his/her/its weight. And, while falling, you knock some stones, the thorns penetrate more in your Head, and all your Wounds worsen and let sink new Blood. And as you don't have strength to raise you, your enemies, angry, try to put back you on foot by kicks and hustles. My fallen Love under the Cross, let me help you to put back you on foot. I kiss you, I wipe your Blood and I want to repair for those that sin by ignorance or fragility. I ask you to help these souls.

Jesus, my Life, through extraordinary Sufferings, your enemies managed to put back you on foot, and while you walk while vacillating, I hear your Breath out of breath; your Heart beats stronger and new Pains transfix you; you shake the Head to rid you the Eyes of Blood that fill them, and, anxious, you watch. Ah! my Jesus, I understood everything: it is your Mom that, like a plaintive dove, try to meet you. She/it wants to tell you a last speech and to receive a last Look of you. You see it that, discerning in the crowd, wants to all price to see you, to kiss you and to make you a last adieu. And you feel his/her/its torn Heart: you are afflicted to see his/her/its deadly paleness and all your Pains that, according to his/her/its Love for you, are reproduced in her. If she/it lives, it is a pure miracle of your Omnipotence. You make some steps to meet it, but it is to big pain that you can exchange a Look! What transpercements in your two Hearts! The soldiers perceive some and, by hustles, they prevent that the Mom and the Son communicate together. They are such your reciprocal Sufferings that, petrified of Pain, your Mom is about to succumb. The faithful Jean and the holy women sustain it, while you, again, you fall under the weight of the Cross. Then, what your Mom cannot make by means of her Body because one prevents of it to him, she makes it by means of his/her/its Soul: she/it enters in you, makes his Want it of the eternal and, associating to all your Pains, she/it serves you as Mom, she/it gives you the Kissings, redone you, relieves you, and pour in all your Wounds the balm of his/her/its aching Love!

My Jesus overwhelmed of Pains, I unite to your Mom grief-stricken. I want to make mine all your Pains and, in every drop of your Blood and in each of your Wounds, I want to use mom. With her, and with yourself, I want to repair for those that make the dangerous meetings, that expose themselves on the occasions of sin. My Jesus, having fallen again under the Cross, you moan. The soldiers fear that you die before the time under the weight of so many Sufferings and by the loss of so much Blood. Nevertheless, it is with whip and with foot that with a lot of pain they arrive to bring back you on your feet. And you you repair the falls repeated in the sin, the serious offenses committed by people various classes, and you pray for the conversion of the obstinate sinners.

My Love, while I come with you in your Damages, I see that you choke under the enormous weight of the Cross. You tremble of everywhere. The thorns, because of the unceasing shocks that you receive, penetrate more and more in your Head. The heavy Cross penetrates more and more in your Shoulder; it makes a Wound so deep that it discovers some the Bones there. To each of your Steps, he/it seems that you die, what puts you in the quasi-impossibility to go from the before. But your Love, that can all, give you strength of it. And whereas the Cross penetrates in your Shoulder, you repair for the hidden sins. My Jesus, let me put my shoulder under the Cross to relieve you, and let me repair with you the secret sins. For fear that you die under the Cross, your enemies oblige the Cyrénéen to help you to carry it. He/it makes it of bad will, while grumbling. It is not by love that he/it helps you, but because one obliges it there. In your Heart all laments of those reverberate that miss resignation in the suffering, and you repair their revolts, their angers, and their contempt of the suffering. But you are afflicted well more when you see that your dedicated souls flee you, those that you call like companions and helps in your Suffering. If you tighten them on you with pain, they clear themselves to go in search of the pleasures. And so they let you only to suffer!

My Jesus, while I repair with you, I ask you to tighten me in your Arms. Make it so greatly that there is not any Pain that you suffer and to which I take part, so that I am transformed by these pains and that I compensate you for the abandonment of the creatures. My Jesus, it is to big pain that, quite bent, you advance. But I see that you stop and look for the Look. My Heart, that this is that is? What do you want? Ah! it is Véronique that, not fearing anything, bring himself with courage and wipe your Face all covered of Blood. And you, in sign of approval, you let printed on his/her/its linen your saint Face. My generous Jesus, I also want to be to wipe your saint Face. Not with a linen, but I want to offer me all myself to relieve you, I want to enter in your heart of hearts and to give you, oh Jesus, palpitation for Palpitation, breath for Breath, affection for Affection, desire for Desire. I hear to plunge me in your infinitely holy Intelligence and, making march in the immensity of your Will all these Palpitations, Breaths, Affections and Desires, I want to multiply them endlessly. I want, oh my Jesus, to form waves of palpitations, so that no bad beating reverberates in your Heart and that so are eased your interior bitterness. I want to form waves of saints affections and saints desires to move away of you all bad affection and all bad desire that could sadden your Heart. I want, oh my Jesus, to form waves of saints thoughts, to move away of you all thought that could displease you. I will be very attentive, oh Jesus, so that nothing afflicts you more and don't add to your interior Pains. Oh Jesus, that all my heart of hearts swims in the immensity of yours. So I will be able to find enough love there and of Will to make so that doesn't enter in you anything that displeases to you.

Oh my Jesus, I ask you to seal my thoughts in yours, my will in her yours, my desires in yours, my affections in yours, my feelings in yours, so that once under seal, they don't find life that in you. I pray you again, oh my Jesus, to accept my poor body that I want to reduce in pieces by love for you, to reduce it in extremely small parcels, to deposit them on each of your Wounds. On this Wound joined to the numerous blasphemies of the creatures, I put, oh Jesus, a parcel of my body so that she/it always tells to you: & laquoJe you bénis!» On this Wound joined to the human ingratitudes, I put a parcel of my body to testify you my gratitude. On this Wound that makes you suffer so much because of coldness and the lack of love of my brothers and sisters humans, I put a lot of parcels of my flesh, so that they always tell to you: & laquoJe likes you, I like you, me you aime!» On this Wound joined to the numerous irreverences towards your infinitely holy Person, I put a parcel of myself, so that it always tells to you: & laquoJe adores you, I adore you, me you adore!»

Oh my Jesus, it is in all your Wounds that I want to distribute me. In your Wounds poisoned by the numerous incredulities, I want that parcels of my body always tell to you: & laquoJe believes, I believe in you, oh my Jesus, oh my God, and in your holy Church, and I am ready to give my life to reveal my Foi!» OH my Jesus, I immerse myself in the immensity of your Will and, while making it mine, I want to lock the soul of every creature in the power of your infinitely holy Will in.

Oh Jesus, I have my blood that I want to pour like a balm healing on your Wounds, to relieve you and to heal you completely, again. I want again, oh Jesus, to make march my thoughts in the heart of the sinners, to scold them continually, so that they don't dare pleased to take offense. And, by your own Blood, make so that all give up before my humble prayers. So I will be able to bring them all to your Heart! There is another Grace, oh my Jesus, that I ask you: it is that in everything that I see, key and sense, it is always you that I see, key and feels; and that your Picture and your Name infinitely holy are engraved in my being's parcel. Seeing a bad eye Véronique's gesture, your enemies whip you, push you and put back you in walk. But some Steps farther, you stop again. Even under the weight of so many Pains, your Love doesn't stop being active: seeing the holy women who cry because of your Pains, you forget yourself yourself and the consoles while telling to them: & laquoFilles, don't cry on my Pains, but on your sins and on your children. & raquo What sublime Teaching you give us, oh Jesus! As she/it is soft, your Speech! My Jesus, with you I repair the lacks of charity, and I ask you for the Grace to forget me myself, so that I only remember of you.

But, hearing you to speak, your enemies enter in fury, they pull you with the ropes, push you with so much rage that they make you fall. And, while falling, you knock some stones. The weight of the Cross crushes you and you feel to die! Let me to sustain you and to protect my hands your infinitely holy Face. I see that you touch soil and choke in your Blood. Wanting to put back you on foot, your enemies pull you with the ropes and by Hair and give you some kicks, but all it in vain. You die, my Jesus! What pain! My heart breaks of pain! It is nearly while dragging you that they drive you to Mount Calvary. While they drag you, I feel that you repair all offenses of the souls dedicated that you are of a big weight, so that all your efforts to raise you are useless! And this is how, dragged and strained to the feet, you arrive to Mount Calvary, letting on your passage a red trace of your precious Blood.

But here, new Sufferings wait for you. Again, the soldiers pull you your clothes and your crown of thorns. Ah! you moan while feeling you to pull the thorns of the Head. And while they pull you your clothes, they also pull the torn Fleshes that are glued there. Your Wounds tear themselves, and it is at streams that your Blood sinks. She/it is so big your Suffering that, nearly died, you collapse.
But no one has mercy of you, oh my Good! On the contrary, in a beastly fury, they hand you the crown of thorns while hitting it strongly. Because of all your lacerations and the dry stroke that they give to your Hair accumulated in Blood coagulated, your torture is extreme. Only the angels could say what you endure, while, horrified, they divert their looks and cry.

My Jesus stripped, allow me to tighten you on my heart to warm you, because I see that you tremble and that a sweat frozen of death invades your Humanity. As I would like to give you my life and all my blood to replace yours, that you spilled to give me life. As if he/it looked at me of his/her/its moribund Eyes, Jesus seems to tell me: & laquoMon child, how much cost me the souls! It is here the place where I wait for them all to save them, where I want to repair the sins of those that are going as far as deteriorating the beasts below and that persist so to offend me that they come from it to more power to live without sinning. Their reason became blind and they sin as madmen. Here is why a third time, one crowns me of thorns.

& laquoEt by my spoliation, I repair for those that don the indecent clothes, for the sins against the modesty, and for those that are bound so to the riches, to honors and to the pleasures, that they make themselves of it of the gods. Ah! yes! each of these offenses is a death that I feel, and if I don't die, it is because the Will of my Eternal Father wants it ainsi!» My Very bare, while with you I repair, I pray you that to the means of your infinitely holy Hands you strip me of all and that you allow no affection bad to enter in my heart. Eve on him, surround it with your Pains, fill it of your Love. That my life is anything else that the repetition of it yours. Confirm by your blessing my spoliation and give me strength to attend your painful Crucifixion. That I am crucified with you!

Reflections and convenient

Jesus carries his Cross. His/her/its Love for the Cross, his/her/its Desire anxious to die on her to save the souls, are immense! And us, as Jesus, do we like the suffering? Can we say that our feelings make echo to his/her/its divine Feelings, and than us also, we want our cross? When do we suffer, do we have the intention to make us Jesus' mates to alleviate his/her/its Cross? How do we come with it? And in the abuses that he/it receives, we are always ready to give him our small sufferings in relief of his?

When do we act, when we pray and when, under the weight of interior pains, we feel the difficulty in our sufferings, do we know how to present them to Jesus, so that, like a veil wiping his/her/its Sweats and his/her/its Blood, she/it fortifies it? Oh my Jesus, always call me close to you, and be always close to me, so that I always comfort you by means of my sufferings.
(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.

Jesus, my Love; tired, but non replete to torment you, your enemies strip you of your clothes to crucify you.

Your infinitely holy Body is if torn that you seem of a lamb scraped. I see that you tremble of all your Members. My heart tightens itself to see to bleed you of all parts of your Body!

But, oh unspeakable Suffering, while removing you your clothes, they pulled you another time your crown of thorns. Then, for the third time, they drove it to you on the Head, making you feel the extraordinary Sufferings, adding to the previous Injuries of even more painful others. Ah! my Jesus, at the time of this third coronation of thorns, you repair the perfidy of the man and his/her/its persistence in the sin! My Jesus, if the love had not sustained you, you would certainly have died because of the bitterness of the Suffering that you endured at the time of this third coronation of thorns. But I see that you cannot resist the Suffering anymore and, the Eyes covered with Blood, you watch to see if there would not be someone that wants to sustain you in so many Sufferings and confusion.

My soft Well, my dear Life, here you are not alone as the last night; has your Mom grief-stricken, that, the Heart transfixed by an intense Suffering, sudden as many deaths as you endures Pains! There is also Marie Madeleine full of love and the faithful Jean that, at the sight of your Pains, remain mute of pain. Do say me, my Love, who you to sustain you in so many Sufferings want? Of grace, permit that I come, me that, more that all, feel the need to be close to you in these moments. Your dear Mom and the other yield me the place. And has, oh Jesus, that I approach of you. I kiss you and I ask you to push your Head on my shoulder and to make me feel the Injuries of your thorns in repair of all offenses committed in the thoughts of the creatures. My Love, of grace, tighten me on you; I want to kiss, one by one, the drops of Blood that flow on your holy Face. That each of these drops is a light for every created intelligence, so that no doesn't offend you by bad thoughts.

Enter time, my Jesus, you look at the Cross that your enemies are preparing you. You hear the strokes of hammer by which they make the holes to drive the nails that will hold you crucified. And your Heart beats very strong, shuddering of divine drunkenness. He/it wants ardently that you spread on this bed of pain, to seal your death the salute of our souls. And I hear you to say: & laquoDe grace, oh Cross, receive me quickly in your Arms. I am impatient to wait! Saint Cross, it is on you that I come all to accomplish. Quickly, Cross, achieve the ardent Desire that consumes me to give life to the souls. Don't linger, it is with anxiety that I wait to spread me on you to open the Sky to all my children. Oh Cross, he/it is true that you are my martyrdom but, shortly, you will also be my victory and my most complete triumph. And it is by you that I will give copious inheritances, victories, triumphs and crowns to my children. & raquo And while Jesus speaks thus, his/her/its executioners order him to spread on the Cross. He/it obeys to them expeditiously, repairing our disobediences thus. My Love, before you spread on the Cross, allow me to tighten you stronger on my heart and to kiss your bloody Injuries. Listen, oh Jesus, I don't want to let you; with you I want to spread on the Cross and to remain with you.

The true love doesn't support the separation. Forgive the boldness of my love and concede me to remain crucified with you. And you see, my to stretch Love, that I am not the only one that asks you for it; has your Mom grief-stricken also, as well as the inseparable Marie Madeleine and the beloved Jean. All, we tell to you that it will be more tolerable to remain nailed with you on your Cross that crucified you only to see! With you I offer myself therefore, to the Eternal Father, identified with your Will, with your Heart, with your Damages and with all your Sufferings. Ah! He/it seems that my adorable Jesus tells to me: & laquoMon child, you preceded my Love. Here is my Will: that all those that like me are crucified with me. Ah! come to spread therefore with me on the Cross and I will give you life by my Life. You will be the beloved of my Coeur!»

And has, my soft Well, that you spread on the Cross. You look with Love and Sweetness at your executioners who have to the hand the nails and the hammers to nail you. And you make them a soft invitation to ask for your Crucifixion. With an inhuman ferocity, they take you the right hand, fix the nail on the palm, and with hammer drive it in your holy Hand, making take this nail of the side opposed of the Cross. She/it is so big your Pain that you tremble some. The Light of your beautiful Eyes slips out and your infinitely holy Face becomes pale and seems of the one of a dead. Saint right hand of my Jesus, I give you a kiss, I sympathize with you, I adore you, and I thank you for me and for all. I ask you for as many souls as you receive strokes, so that you free them of the eternal condemnation. I ask you to wash in your infinitely precious Blood as many souls as you pour drops of Blood. Oh my Jesus, because of the cruel Pain that you endure, I ask you to open the Sky to all and to bless all creatures. That your blessing calls to the conversion all sinners and in light of the faith all heretics and the infidels.

Oh Jesus, my soft Life, your torment does begin only. Now that your executioners finished to nail you the right hand, here it is that with an extraordinary cruelty they take your left Hand and pull it so violently to send her to the already drilled hole that the joints of your Arms and your Shoulders are dislocated some and, because of the strength of this Pain, even your Legs become stiff and convulsive. Then, with ferocity, as for your right hand, they nail it on the Cross.

Oh left Hand of my Jesus, I give you a kiss, I sympathize with you, I adore you, I thank you and I pray you, because of the strokes that you receive and of the cruel Pains that you undergo, to allow the souls of the purgatory at the moment to be freed. Yes, oh Jesus, because of the Blood that you pour this Hand, I ask you to extinguish the flames that burn these souls. That this Blood cooled them and relieve them, and is them a beneficial bath to purify them of all stain and to prepare them to the beatific vision.

My Love and my All, because of this smarting Pain, I ask you to close the hell to all souls and to keep the thunderbolts of the divine Justice irritated by our mistakes! Make in sort, oh Jesus, that this divine Justice calms itself, that it doesn't make rain the divine curses on our earth, and that open up the treasures of the divine Mercy to the profit of all. My Jesus, between your Arms, I place the world and all human generations, and I pray you, oh my soft Love, by your versed Blood, not to refuse the forgiveness to anyone and to grant to each the salute of his/her/its soul. Don't exclude anybody, oh Jesus!

My Love, Jesus, your enemies pursue in their atrocities. With a diabolic ferocity, they take your infinitely holy Feet, contracted by the big Pain felt at the time of the nailing of the Hands, and they pull them so much that are dislocated some your Knees, your Coast and all Bones of your Chest. My heart doesn't resist, my dear Good; I see your beautiful eclipsed Eyes and veiled by Blood. Your livid Lips contort themselves, your Cheeks dig themselves, your Teeth collide, while your Chest pants. Oh! my Love, how much I would take your place gladly to save you so much Suffering! I want, on all your Members, to give you for all one balm, a kiss, a comfort, a repair,.

My Jesus, they put you a Foot on the other and drive a nail there without tip. Saints Feet of my Jesus, I give you a kiss, I adore you, I thank you and I pray you, because of the extreme Pains that you suffer and of the Blood that you pour, to contain all souls in your infinitely holy Wounds.

Oh Jesus, don't disdain anybody! That your nails nail our powers, so that they don't move away of you; that they nail our heart, so that he/it is always fixed to yours; that they nail all our feelings, so that they don't adhere to no taste that comes of you. Oh my Jesus crucified, I see you all gory as if you had swum in a bloodbath, this Blood that asks continually for the souls. By the power of this Blood, oh Jesus, I ask you that no soul run away of you!

Oh Jesus, I approach of your tortured Heart. I see that you are not able to some anymore, but the love shouts even stronger: & laquoSouffrances, Sufferings, more Souffrances!» My Jesus, I kiss you, I sympathize with you, I adore you and I thank you for me and for all. Jesus, I want to push my head on your Heart to feel what you endure during your painful Crucifixion. Ah! if he/it had not already been enacted that a spear will transfix you the Heart, the flames of your Love himself frayeraient a path and would make it explode!
These flames call the souls filled of love to establish their home in your Heart. Oh Jesus, by your infinitely precious Blood, I ask you for the holiness for these souls. Of grace, don't let them leave your Heart ever. Multiply the vocations of the souls victims, so that they continue your Life on the earth. Oh Jesus, that the flames of your Heart burn me and consume me, that your Blood embellished me, that your Love holds me still nailed to the Cross for the suffering and the repair.

Oh my Jesus, after having nailed you the Hands and the Feet, the executioners return the Cross to clinch the nails, coercive thus your adorable Face to touch soil. And you, you give a Kiss to this soil covered with blood of your Blood. By this Kiss, you kiss all souls and the dregs to your Love, sealing their salute. Oh Jesus, let me take your place, and while the executioners clinch the nails, make so that these strokes also wound me and nail me entire to your Love. My Jesus, while the thorns penetrate more and more in your Head, I want to offer you all my thoughts, so that, as loving kissing, they comfort you and ease the bitterness of your thorns. Your Language is nearly attached to your Palace because of the bitterness of the gall and your ardent thirst. To stem your thirst, oh my Jesus, you would like that all hearts of the creatures overflow with love. But, as you don't receive this love, you burn more and more. My soft Love, I want to send you streams of love, to lessen the bitterness of the gall and your ardent thirst.

Oh Jesus, I see that to every movement that you make, the Wounds of your Hands tear themselves more and the Pain becomes more intense. My dear Good, to compensate you of this Suffering and to calm you, I offer you the holy works of all creatures. Oh Jesus, how much you suffer in your infinitely holy Feet! All Movements of your infinitely sacred Body seem to reverberate in them and there is not anybody close to you to sustain you and to ease somewhat the bitterness of your Sufferings! My soft Life, I would like to unite the steps of the creatures of all generations and to send them to you all, so that they come to comfort you in your hard Pains.

Oh my Jesus, as he/it is tortured your poor Heart! How to comfort you in so many Sufferings? I will dive in you, I will immerse my heart in yours, my desires in yours. I will unite my love to yours, so that, by your fire, is burnt the heart of all creatures and destroyed all profane loves. Your sacred Heart in will be comforted, and me, from now, I promise to remain nailed always at your infinitely in love Heart by the nails of your Desires, your Love and your Will. Oh my Jesus, I want to be crucified in you. Don't permit that I open myself the least, so that I can like you and to repair for all and to calm the Suffering that you procure the creatures by their mistakes. My good Jesus, I see that your enemies raise the heavy wood of the Cross and let it fall in the hole foreseen to this effect. And you, my soft Love, you are suspended between sky and earth. At the moment solemn, you turn toward the Father and a weak Voice you tell to him: & holy laquoPère, I loaded all sins of the world; doesn't have mistake that has been poured on me. Therefore, don't unload anymore on the men the curses of your divine Justice, but make it on me, your Son. Oh Father, allow me to bind all souls to this Cross and, by my Blood and my Wounds, to get the forgiveness for all.

& laquoÔ Father, see to what state I am reduced! Because of this Cross, according to these Sufferings, lead in all a real conversion, the peace, the forgiveness and the holiness. Cut court to your fury against the poor humanity, against my children; they are blind and don't know what they make. See to what pitiable state I am reduced because of them. If you don't pity on them, that softened you at least my soiled Face of spits, covered with Blood, livid and swollen because of the numerous slaps and the numerous strokes that I received. Mercy, my Father! It was I most beautiful of all, and now, I am quite disfigured; I became the abjectness of all. To all price, I want to save the poor créatures!» My Jesus, is he/it possible that you like us so much? Your Love grinds my heart. Oh! I would like to visit all creatures and to show them your Face if disfigured because of them, to move them of compassion towards you. Thanks to the Light that your Face transmits and to the charming Strength of your Love, make understand them that you are and that are the creatures who dare to offend you, so that they prostrate before you, adore you and glorify you.

My adorable Jesus crucified, the creature always irritates the divine Justice while letting come out of his/her/its mouth of horrible blasphemies, the imprecations, the maledictions and the bad conversations. Ah! all these voices deaden the earth and, discerning until in the Heaven, overwhelm the divine hearing. Oh! as the divine Justice feels pushed to throw his/her/its curses on the earth! Oh! as these horrible blasphemies provoke the divine fury against the creatures! But, oh Jesus, by your supreme Love, you face these dissonant voices and, of your almighty and creative Voice, you shout: & laquoMiséricorde, Graces and Love for the créatures!» And to pacify the Father's indignation, you tell to him: & laquoMon Father, look at me, don't listen to the voices of the creatures, but mine; it is I that satisfy for all. I ask you to look at the creature in me. If you look at it out of me, that he of her will be some? She/it is weak, ignoramus, capable to make the pain only. She/it is filled of all miseries. Mercy, mercy for the poor creature! Me I answer for her by my bitter returned Language by the gall, dry by the thirst, burnt by the Amour.»,

My Jesus saddened, my voice, melted in it yours, wants to face all these offenses, to all these blasphemies, to be able to change all human voices in voice of blessings and praises. My Jesus crucified, before your big Love and your big Suffering, the creature doesn't give up. On the contrary, you scornful, she/it commits mistake after mistake, making the enormous sacrileges, of the homicides, the suicides, the duels, the fraud, the deceptions, the cruelties and the treasons. Ah! all these bad works weighed the Arm of your celestial Father, that, capable to sustain the weight of so many mistakes, is about to make fall the destruction on the earth. And you, oh my Jesus, to subtract the creature to the divine Fury, you stretch the Arms toward the Father, you disarm it and prevent that his/her/its Justice follows its course. And for the touch of compassion towards the miserable humanity, you tell him of your most persuasive Voice: & laquoMon Father, look at these torn Hands and these nails that transfix them. In these Hands I feel the atrocious Sufferings that I procure all these bad works. You are not happy, oh Father, of my Sufferings? Am I incapable to satisfy you? Yes, my dislocated Arms will always be the chains that will hold hurried on me the poor creatures, so that they don't escape to me, with the exception of those that will leave me by strength. My Arms will be the chains in love that will keep you, Father, to stop you from destroying the poor creatures. On the contrary, I will attract you more and more close to them, so that you pour on them your Graces of miséricorde!»

My Jesus, your Love is a soft enchantment for me and push myself to make what you make. Therefore, with you I want to prevent, at the cost of any suffering, that the divine Justice follows its course against the poor Humanity. By the Blood that sinks your Hands, I want to calm the fury of this Justice. Permit that I deposit in your Arms the sufferings and the tearings of all men, of all afflicted hearts and oppressed. Allow me to deposit all creatures in your Arms, so that all come back to your Heart. Permit that, by the power of your creative Hands, I stop the progress of so many bad works and that I divert all people from to make the pain. My agreeable Jesus crucified, the creature wants to drink until the bottom the dregs of the mistake and short like a madwoman on the way of the pain; she commits mistake after mistake, disobeys your Laws and rebel against you. And as to make you a supplementary spitefulness, she/it wants to go to hell.

Oh! as is indignant the supreme Majesty! And you, oh my Jesus, to calm the divine Father, you make him to see your holy torn Humanity, dislocated, horribly tortured; you show him your transfixed Feet, twisted by the atrocity of the Sufferings. And I hear your Voice, more touching than ever that, by the strength of your Love and your Suffering, wants to defeat the creature and to triumph over the paternal Heart: & laquoMon Father, look at me of the head to the feet: there is not any healthy part in me; I don't have a place anymore where to make to open me of other wounds and to procure me of other Sufferings: if you don't lull to this spectacle of love, what be able to ever calm you? Oh creatures, if you don't give up owing so much love, what hope remained to me him to bring you to the conversion? My Wounds and my Blood will always be the paths that will make come down from the Sky to the earth of the Graces to repent, of forgiveness and compassion for tous!»,

My Jesus, crucified Lover, I see that you are not able to some anymore. The horrible tension that you undergo on the Cross, the continuous grinding of your Bones that falls apart more to every small Movement, your Fleshes that tear themselves more and more, the ardent thirst that consumes you, the interior Pains that water you and, with all it, the human ingratitude that, like an impetuous wave, penetrate until in your transfixed Heart, oppress you so much that, not resisting the weight of so many martyrdoms, your infinitely holy Humanity is about to die out. Being delirious of love and Sufferings, she/it asks for help and mercy! Done Jesus crucify, is he possible that you that govern all and deals life to all, do you ask for help? Ah! as I would like to penetrate in every drop of your Blood and to pour mine to relieve each of your Wounds, to pacify and to make less painful the sting of every thorn. I would like to penetrate in every interior pain of your Heart to relieve your bitterness. I would like to give you life for Life. If it was possible to me, I would like to open you of the Cross to put me to your place. But I see that I am not anything and are not able to anything, being too petty. Oh Jesus, give me your own being. I will take life in you, and I will give you to yourself. So I will satisfy my most ardent desires.

Oh Jesus tortured, I see that your infinitely holy Humanity is close to die out, no for yourself, but to accomplish our Redemption. You need divine help and you throw yourself in your Father's Arms, asking him for help and help. Oh! as the divine Father softens to look at the horrible Suffering of your Humanity, the terrifying destruction that the mistake made on your infinitely holy Members! To satisfy your ardent Desires of love, he/it tightens you on his/her/its paternal Heart and gives you the necessary help to accomplish our Redemption. And while he/it tightens you, you feel in your Heart to repeat itself/themselves more strongly the strokes on the nails, the bites of the whips, the tearings of your Wounds, the stings of the thorns. Oh! as the Father is hit some! As he/it is indignant to see that all these Pains you are inflicted until in your Heart by souls that you are dedicated! And in his/her/its Suffering, he/it says: & laquoEst him possible, my Son, that not even the souls elected by you all are with you? On the contrary, he/it seems that these souls come in your Heart to sadden you and to procure you an even more painful death. And what is worse, all these Sufferings that they procure you are covered with hypocrisy. Ah! Son, I cannot contain my indignation anymore before the ingratitude of these souls that afflicts me more that all other creatures ensemble!»
But you, oh my Jesus, triumphant of all, you even defend these souls, you dam up by the immense love of your Heart the waves of the bitterness and injuries that they procure to you and, to pacify the Father, you tell to him: & laquoMon Father, look at my Heart: that all these Sufferings satisfy you and that more they are cruel more they are powerful on your Father's Heart to get them Graces, Light and Forgiveness. My Father, don't reject them, they will be my defenders who will continue my Life on the earth. & raquo

My Life, oh my Jesus crucified, I see that you continue to agonize on the Cross because, all to accomplish, your Love is not yet satisfied. Me also, I want to agonize with you. And you all, angels and holy, come on the Calvary mount to contemplate the excesses and the madness of a God's love! Together, let's kiss his/her/its bloody Wounds, let's adore them, let's sustain his/her/its torn Members, and let's thank it of the accomplished Redemption. Let's throw a look on the afflicted Mother, that feels as many Pains and deaths in his/her/its immaculate Heart that she/it sees some at his/her/its Son God. His/her/its own clothes are impregnated of Blood. The Calvary mount is quite enameled some. All together, let's take this Blood, let's ask the Mother afflicted to unite to us, let's divide between ourselves the whole world, and let's go help all people. Let's help those in danger so that they don't perish, those that fell so that they stand up, those that are about to fall so that they don't fall. Let's give this Blood to all blinds, so that was resplendent on them the Light of the Truth.
In particular, let's go among the fighters, let's serve them heedful sentries and, if they are about to be reached by the enemy's bullets, let's receive them in our arms to comfort them. And if they are abandoned of all, if they are desperate by their sad fate, let's give them this Blood, so that they resign themselves and that is eased them the atrocity of their sufferings. And if we see some that are about to fall in hell, let's give them this divine Blood, that contains the Graces of the Redemption, and let's pull them to Satan! And while I will hold tight Jesus on my heart to defend it and all to repair, I will tighten all these people on your Heart, so that all get the Grace of the conversion, strength and the salute.

Enter time, I see, oh Jesus, that Blood flows to streams of your Hands and your Feet. The angels, crying, make circle around you, admiring the prodigies of your Love. I see your soft Mom with the foot of the Cross, transfixed of Pain, your dear Marie Madeleine, your beloved Jean, all taken by an ecstasy of stupor, love and pain! Oh Jesus, I unite to you, I tighten myself on your Cross, I take all drops of your Blood and I pour them in my heart. When I will see your angry Justice against the sinners, then, to pacify you, I will show you this Blood. When I will want the conversion of obstinate souls in the mistake, I will show you this Blood and, because of him, you won't reject my prayer, because I will have the pledge of your own Blood in my hands. And now, my crucified Good, in the name of all past, present and future generations, with your Mom and with all angels, I prostrate before you and I tell to you: & laquoNous adores you, oh Christ and we bless you, because you purchased the world by your holy Croix!»

Reflections and convenient

Jesus crucified obeys to the executioners; he accepts with Love all abuses and the pains that they inflict to him. Because of the big Love that Jesus felt for our souls, he found in the Cross his/her/its daybed. And us, in all our pains, we rest ourselves of it him? By our patience and our love, can we say that we prepare a bed in our heart for Jesus? While Jesus is crucified, he has there so much in him no part internal that external that feels a special pain. And us, do we keep crucified us with him, at least by our main senses? When we take pleasure to a vain conversation or to another similar entertainment, then Jesus remains nailed to the Cross. But if this same taste, we sacrifice it by love for him, then we open Jesus and we nail ourselves ourselves. Do we keep still our intelligence, our heart and all our to be nailed by the nails of his/her/its holy Will? While he/it is crucified, Jesus looks with Love at his/her/its executioners. And us, by love for him, we look with love at those that wound us? My Jesus crucified, that your nails are driven in my heart, so that he has there in me no beating, no affection, no desire that feels the stings of these nails. And that the blood that my heart will pour is a balm that relieves all your Wounds.

Of noon to 13h Well crucified, I see you on the Cross as on your Throne of triumph, conquering all thing and all hearts, and to attract them to you in such a way that all feel your Power suprahumain. The nature, horrified by your state, prostrates before you and, in silence, waits for Words of you, to return you honor and to make recognize your domination. The sun, while crying, withdraw his/her/its light, capable to support to see you in this state. The hell feels terror and, silent, waits. All is silence. Your Mom grief-stricken and your supporters are mute and petrified to the painful view of your Humanity torn and dislocated. Silent, they wait for a Speech of you! Your Humanity, that lies in an ocean of Pains and in the atrocious Sufferings of your Agony on the Cross, is silent. One fears that of a Breathing to the other you die!

And what of other? The treacherous Jews and your pitiless executioners that, until all lately, offended you, ridiculed you, called you impostor and malefactor, the thieves whom you blasphemed, all are quiet now; remorse invades them, and if there is even some insult that they try to make you, it dies on their lips. But discerning in your heart of hearts, I see that your Love overflows and torments you more more that your other Sufferings. You cannot contain it. Constrained by this Love, you speak like this God that you are, you raise your dying Eyes skywards and you exclaim of a strong and moving Voice: & laquoPère, forgive to them, because they don't know that that them font!»

And, again, you withdraw in the silence, dived in extraordinary Sufferings. Done Jesus crucify, so much love is he possible? Ah! after so many Sufferings and abuses, your first Speech is one of forgiveness of it: you excuse us before the Father of so many sins! This Speech, you make it descend in all heart after the mistake, and it is you the first to offer the Forgiveness. But many reject this Forgiveness. And then your Love becomes madman bus, burning of ardor, it wants to give to all Pardon and the Kiss of peace! To this Speech of forgiveness, the hell trembles and recognizes you for God, the nature and all men are stunned, and they recognize your Divinity, your inextinguishable Love. Silent, they wait to see how far it will go. And it is not only your Voice, but also your Blood and your Wounds that shout at every heart after the sin: & laquoViens in my Arms that I forgive to you; the seal of my Forgiveness is my Blood. & raquo OH my agreeable Jesus, repeat this Speech to all sinners. Implore for all Mercy divine. Wall lamp to all infinite merits of your infinitely precious Blood. For all, continue to calm the divine Justice. Give your thanks to the one that, being in the situation to forgive, feels incapable to make it.

My Jesus crucified, during these three hours so bitter of agony, you want all to accomplish, and while, silent, you are on this Cross, I see that in your heart of hearts, you want to satisfy the Father in all things. You thank it instead all, you satisfy instead all. For all, you ask for forgiveness and, for all, you implore the Grace that they don't offend you more ever. And to get all it of the Father, you sum up before him all your Life, of the first instant of your Conception until your last Breath. My Jesus, infinite Love, also let me sum up all your Life with you, with your inconsolable Mom, with Jean saint and with the holy women. My soft Jesus, I thank you for the numerous thorns that transfixed your adorable Head, of the versed drops of Blood because of them, of the strokes received on them, of Hair that one pulled to you. I thank you for all the although you made and all the although you got us by your Prayers. Thank you for lights and the good inspirations that you gave us. Thank you for all times that you forgave our sins of pride and self-esteem.

I ask you for forgiveness in the name of all, oh my Jesus, for all times that we crowned you of thorns, for all drops of Blood that you made ourselves pour your infinitely holy Head, for all times that we didn't answer your inspirations. Because of all these Pains suffered by you, I pray you, oh good Jesus, to get us the Grace of more to commit sins ever in our thoughts. I want again to offer you everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Head to give you all this glory that the creatures would have given to you if they had made good use of their intelligence. & laquoLouez the Lord all peoples, celebrate it all countries! Strong is his/her/its Love for us, forever his/her/its Truth. Glory to the Father,... & raquo (Ps. 118)

I adore, oh my Jesus, your infinitely holy Eyes, and I thank you for all Tears and the whole Blood that they poured, for the stings cruel of the thorns, the abuses, the derisions and the shames supported during all your Passion. I ask you for forgiveness for all those that use their view to offend you and to offend you, and I ask you, because of the Pains suffered by your infinitely sacred Eyes, to give us the Grace that more no one offends you by bad looks. I offer you everything that you endured by your infinitely holy Eyes to give you all this Glory that the creatures would have given to you, if their looks had only been fixed on the Sky, on the Divinity and on you, oh my Jesus.

I adore your infinitely holy Ears. I thank you for everything that you endured while, on Mount Calvary, the scoundrels overwhelmed you the Ears by their screams and their mockeries. I ask you for forgiveness in the name of all for all bad conversations, and I pray you so that the ears of all men open up to the eternal Truths, to the calls of the Grace, and that more no one offends you by the sense of the hearing. I want again to offer you everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Hearing, to give you the whole Glory that the creatures would have given to you, if of this organ they had made a holy use. I adore your infinitely holy Face and I give him a kiss, oh my Jesus, and I thank you for everything that you endured because of the spits, the slaps and mockeries, and for all times that you you are let tread to the feet by your enemies. I ask you for forgiveness in the name of all for all times that one dared to offend you, and I ask you because of these slaps and these spits to make so that all recognize, rent and glorify your Divinity.

Oh my Jesus, I want to go everywhere in the world, of the orient to the west, of the noon to the septentrion, to unite all voices of the creatures and to change them in as many acts of praise, love and worship towards your divine No one. I want again, oh my Jesus, to bring you the heart of all creatures, so that you filled each of your Light, your Truth and your Love. That every heart is filled of compassion towards your divine No one. And while you will forgive to all, I ask you to make so that more no one offends you, even at the cost of my blood. I finally want to offer you everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Face, to give you the whole Glory that the creatures would have given to you if no one had offended you.

I adore your infinitely holy Mouth and I thank you for your first cries, for the milk that you sucked, for all Words that you said, for the blazing Kissings that you gave to your a lot of Saint Mother, for the food that you took, for the bitterness of the gall and the ardent thirst from of which you suffered on the Cross, for the Prayers that you raised toward the Father. I ask you for forgiveness for all slanders and the conversations bad of the creatures, and for all blasphemies that they utter. I want to offer your holy Conversations in repair of their bad conversations, the mortification of your Taste in repair of their greeds and all offenses that they make you by the bad use of their language. I want to offer you everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Mouth, to give you the whole Glory that the creatures would have given you so no had dared to offend you by the sense of the taste and by the abuse of the language. Oh Jesus, I thank you for all in the name of all, and I address you a hymn of eternal and infinite acknowledgments. I want, oh my Jesus, to offer you everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Person, to give you the whole Glory that you would have given all creatures if they had conformed their life to her yours.

I thank you, oh Jesus, for everything that you endured in your infinitely holy Shoulders, for all strokes that you received, for all Wounds that you you are let open on your infinitely sacred Body, for all drops of Blood that you poured. I ask you for forgiveness in the name of all for all times that by love of the comfort we offended you by illicit pleasures. I offer you your painful flogging to repair all sins committed with our senses, by love for the sensitive pleasures, for the natural satisfactions. I offer you everything that you endured in your Shoulders to give you the whole Glory that the creatures would have given to you if, in all things, they had tried to be pleasing you to you only and to take refuge to the shade of your divine Protection. My Jesus, I kiss your left Foot and I thank you for all Steps that you made during your deadly Life and for all times that you got tired to go in search of souls. And I offer you, oh my Jesus, all my actions, all my steps and all my movements, in the intention to make you repair for all and for all. I ask you for forgiveness for those that don't act in a right intention. I unite my actions to all those that you accomplished in your infinitely holy Humanity so that they are divinisées and to give you the whole Glory that you would have given the creatures if they had acted saintly and with honest goals.

Jesus, I kiss your right Foot and I thank you for everything that you endured for me, especially in these hours where you were suspended to the Cross. I thank you for the atrocious pain that you caused the nails in your Wounds that tore themselves more and more because of the weight of your Body. I ask you for forgiveness for all rebellions and the disobediences of the creatures and I offer you the pains of your infinitely holy Feet in repair of these offenses, to give you the whole Glory that the creatures would have given you so in all things they had been submitted you. Oh my Jesus, I kiss your infinitely holy left Hand and I thank you for everything that you endured for me, for all times that you calmed the divine Justice while satisfying for all! I kiss your right hand and I thank you for all the although you made and that you continue to make for all, in particular for the Works of the Creation, the Redemption and the Sanctification. I ask you for forgiveness in the name of all, for all times that we lacked recognition for your Kindness. Forgiveness for our numerous works made without a right intention. In repair of these offenses, I want to offer you the whole Perfection and the Holiness of your Works, to give you all this Glory that the creatures would have given to you if they had answered all your Kindness.

Oh my Jesus, I kiss your infinitely sacred Heart and I thank you for everything that you endured and wanted for every creature, and for the goodwill of which you burned by Love for them. I ask you for forgiveness for our numerous bad desires, our affections and our bad tendencies. Forgiveness, oh Jesus, for the numerous souls that make to pass the love of the creatures before your Love. And to give you the whole Glory that they refused to you, I offer you everything that made and continuous to make your infinitely adorable Heart.

Reflections and convenient

Of noon to 13h,

Jesus, elevated on the Cross, remains suspended without touching the earth. And us, do we try to live detached of the world, the creatures and everything that tastes the earth? All must compete to form the cross on which we must spread and to remain suspended like Jesus, far from everything that is earth, so that the creatures don't become attached to us. Suffering Jesus doesn't have another bed that the Cross, of other relief that his/her/its Wounds and the abuses. And, by love for Jesus, we manage to find rest in the suffering? All the things that we make and let's live, let's contain them in Jesus' Wounds, let's soak them in his/her/its Blood, and we won't find a comfort that in his/her/its Sufferings. So that his/her/its Wounds will be ours, his/her/its Blood will act continually in us to wash us and to embellish us. And so we will get any Grace for us and for the salute of the souls. Having Jesus' Blood in our heart, if we commit a mistake, we will ask Jesus not to keep us soiled in his/her/its Presence, but to wash us of his/her/its Blood and to keep us with him. If we feel weak, we will ask Jesus to give a portion of his/her/its Blood to our soul, so that his/her/its Blood gives us strength and courage.

The soft Jesus prays for his executioners and even, he excuses them. And us, do we make ours the please Jesus to excuse the sinners continually before the Father and to get for them, by our prayers, his/her/its Mercy, even for those that would have offended us personally?
While we pray, let's act and let's walk, let's not forget the poor souls that are about to return the last sigh. Let's carry them in manner of help and comfort the Prayers and Jesus' Kissings, so that he/it purifies them and makes them take their takeoff skywards. My Jesus, it is in your Wounds and in your Blood that I want to draw strength to be able to reproduce in me your own Life. And so I will be able to get for all, by my prayers, the although you made. (To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Of 13h to Second 14h

Speech: & laquoi, you will be with me to the Paradise. & raquoMy Love crucified, while I pray with you, the strength of your attractive Love and your Sufferings maintains my fixed look on you, but my heart breaks to see to stand you so much. You are tortured by the love and the Pain, and the flames that burn you the Heart are so intense what are reducing you in ashes. Your Love is stronger than it died even and, giving free course to this Love, you look at the thief in your right and you steal it at the hell: you touch him the heart by your Grace and he/it becomes transformed quite. He/it recognizes that you are God and, all contrite, he/it tells to you: & laquoSeigneur, remember me when you will be in your Kingdom. & raquo And you, you answer himwithout hesitating: & very laquoAujourd'hui, you will be with me in the Paradis!» You make the first triumph of your Love of it thus. But I see that you don't only steal the thief's heart, but that you make in the same way for many dying. You place at their disposal your Blood, your Love, your Merits, and you use of all your Stratagems and divine Tricks to touch their heart and to steal them at the hell. But here your Love is also, antagonized! How many cutting refusals! How many times one doesn't trust you! How much yield to the despair!

I want, oh my Jesus, to repair for all those that despair your divine Mercy at the time of their death. My soft Love, inspire to all reliance in you, in particular to those that are in the embraces of the agony. And by this Speech that you told the thief, grant them Light, strength and help so that they can die saintly and can fly off skywards. In your infinitely holy Body, in your Blood, in your Wounds, place all souls, oh Jesus. Because of the merits of your precious Blood, don't permit that even only one soul is lost! That your accompanied Voice of your Blood repeats to all: & laquoAujourd'hui, you will be with me in the Paradis!»

Third Speech. Jesus tells Marie: & laquoFemme, here is your fils!» and to Jean: & laquoVoici your Mère!»

My Jesus tortured, your Sufferings increase more and more. Ah! on this Cross, you are the true King of the Pains. In the middle of so many Sufferings, no soul escapes to you: you give to each your own Life. But your Love sees itself upset and despised by the creatures. One doesn't worry about it. And as he/it cannot pour out himself/itself, he/it becomes more intense. He/it procures you some unspeakable tortures. In these tortures, he/it searches for what he/it could give other to the man to defeat it. And he/it makes you say: & laquoTu sees, oh soul, how much I liked you; if you don't want to have mercy of yourself, have at least mercy of my Amour!» Voyant that you don't have anything anymore to give to the creatures, having given them everything, you turn your imploring Look toward your Mom, it that, as you, feels crucified because of your Sufferings and the love that torture it. Mother and Son, you get along; and then you breathe satisfaction and comfort while knowing that you can give your Mom to the creatures. While associating Jean to the whole human kind, you tell Marie of a Voice filled of tenderness: & laquoFemme, here is your fils!» and to Jean: & laquoVoici your Mère!» And, in a soft Heart to Heart, you pursue: & laquoMa Mother, I confide you all my children. All the love that you feel for me, feel it for them! That all your Considerations and all your maternal Tenderness are for my children. You, you will save them to me tous!» And your holy Mom accepts.

I want here, oh my Jesus, to repair the offenses that are made to your a lot of Saint Mother, the blasphemies and the ingratitudes of so many people that don't want to recognize the big Kindness that you granted to all, while giving us Marie as Mother. How can we thank you for one so big Kindness? We will make it, oh Jesus, while offering you your Blood, your Wounds, the infinite love of your Heart! Oh a lot of Virgin Saint, what is not your shock while hearing the Voice of the good Jesus that gives you to each of us as Mother!

We want to thank you, oh blessed Virgin, and to thank you as you deserve it, we offer you your Jesus' very acknowledgments. Oh soft Mom, be our Mother, take care of us and do permit never that we offended you the least. Always hold us tight on Jesus. Of your Hands,bind us to him, so that we can never separate any more him. For all, I want to repair the offenses that are made to your Jesus and you, my soft Mom!

Oh my Jesus, while you are dived in so many Sufferings, you plead more again the reason of the salute of the souls. Me, I won't be indifferent to it. As a dove, I will fly on your Wounds, will kiss them, will relieve them, and I will immerse myself in your Blood to be able to exclaim me with you: & laquoÂmes, Jesus âmes!», I want to sustain your transfixed Head and aching to repair and to implore your Mercy, your Love and your Forgiveness for all. Reign in my intelligence, oh my Jesus, and heal it according to the thorns that pierce you the Head. Don't allow any failing to enter in my intelligence. Majestic front of my Good, I give you a kiss; attracts all my thoughts to contemplate you and to understand you. Infinitely soft eyes of my Jesus, although covered of Blood, look at me, look at my misery, look at my weakness, look at my poor heart, and make so that I can feel the admirable effects of the divine Look.
Ears of my Jesus, although overwhelmed by the abuses and the blasphemies, you stay all the same attentive to listen to us. Hear my prayers and don't disdain my damages. Yes, oh Jesus, listen to the supplications of my heart. He/it will calm himself/itself when you will have filled it of your Love. Face infinitely beautiful of my Jesus, show you to me, so that of all and all I detach my poor heart: that your Beauty makes me to me solely éprendre of you and is held still delighted in you. Infinitely sweet mouth of my Jesus, speak me. That resounds always your Voice in my ears and that the power of your Speech destroys in me everything that is not Will of God, everything that is not Love.

Oh Jesus, I stretch my arms toward your Neck to kiss you. And yourself, stretch yours toward me to kiss me. Of grace, oh my Good, make so that this embrassement of love is so narrow that no human strength can clear us one of the other. Thus, I will push my face onyour Heart, and, confidently, I will give you a kiss on your Lips and you you will give me your Kiss of love. So you will make me breathe your infinitely soft Breath, your Love, your to Want, your Sufferings and all your divine Life.
Infinitely holy shoulders of my Jesus, always strong and constant in the Suffering by Love for me, give me the moral strength, the constancy and the heroism in the suffering by love for you. Oh Jesus, of grace, don't permit that I am fickle in the love: sharing with me your Immutability.

Flaming chest of my Jesus, give me your flames: you cannot contain these flames and my heart looks for them with anxiety by the intervention of your Blood and your Wounds. These are the flames of your Love, oh Jesus, who torments you the more. Oh my Good, share them with me. It he/it doesn't touch you of compassion to see a soul as poor of your Love? Infinitely holy hands of my Jesus, you that created the Sky and the earth, reduced you to the immobility! Oh my Jesus, continue your creation: your creation of love.Create in all my to be a new life, the divine Life. Pronounce your creative Words on my poor heart and return completely he as yours. Holy feet of my Jesus, do never let me only, but make so that I always run with you and that I don't make only one step far from you. Jesus, by my love and by my damages, I want to relieve you of the Pains of which you endure in your infinitely holy Feet.

Oh my Jesus crucified, I adore your infinitely precious Blood. I kiss your holy Wounds one by one, wanting to lavish them all my love, my worships and my most ardent damages. That your Blood is for all souls light in darkness, comfort in the suffering, strength in the weakness, forgiveness in the mistake, help in the temptations, protection in the dangers, support in the death. And that he/it is the wings that will transport the souls of this earth skywards.

Oh Jesus, it is yours that I come! In your Heart I want to make my nest and my home. Of the inside of your Heart, oh my soft Love, I willcall all people to you. And if someone wants to approach to offend you, I will expose my chest and I won't permit that one wounds you. On the contrary, I will lock this person in your Heart in, I will speak him of your Love and I will change his/her/its offenses in Love. Oh Jesus, never ever permit only I come out of your Heart. Nourish me of your flames. By your Life, give me life, so that I like you as you want it so ardently.

Fourth Speech: & God laquoMon, my God, why you have me abandonné?»

Oh suffering Jesus, while, tight on your Heart, I surrender while counting your Sufferings, I see that a convulsive tremor invades your infinitely holy Humanity. Your Members struggle as if they wanted to detach themselves one of the other. And during these convulsions, you shout with strength: & God laquoMon, my God, why you have me abandonné?» TO this scream, all tremble, darkness becomes thicker, your petrified Mom becomes pale and feels very badly! My Life! my All! my Jesus! what do I see? Ah! you are all close to the death! Your Sufferings, that were always you faithful, are about to let you. After so many Sufferings, it is with an immense Pain that you see that a lot of souls are not incorporated to you. On the contrary, you see that many will be lost and you feel the painful separation of with them. And as you must satisfy the divine Justice even for these souls, you feel the death of each and the very pains that they will suffer in hell. And you shout strong to all: & laquoNe doesn't abandon me. If you want more Sufferings, I am ready, but you don't separate of my Humanity. It is it the Pain of the pains, the Death of the deaths. The whole remains I would be nothing if I was saved your separation of with me! Of grace, mercy for my Blood, for my Wounds, for my Death! Don't abandon me pas!»

My Love, how much I am distressed! You are out of breath! Your Head infinitely holy tomb already on your Chest! Life abandons you! My Love, I feel to die with you! I also want to be to shout with you: & laquoÂmes, âmes!» I don't want to detach me of this Cross, of your Wounds, to procure you of the souls. And if you want it, I will descend in the heart of the creatures, I will surround them with your Pains so that they don't escape to me. And if it was possible to me, I would like to get before the door of the hell to make to move back the souls that present themselves of it and to bring them to your Heart.

Oh my Jesus, you agonize and you are quiet. And me I cry over your death next. I sympathize with you, I tighten your Heart on mine, I give him a kiss and I look at it with the whole tenderness of which I am capable. And to give you a bigger relief, I make mine the divine Tenderness, and it is with her that I want to sympathize with you. I want to change my heart in a stream of sweetness and to pour it in yours to ease the bitterness that you feel because of the loss of the souls. He/it is extremely painful, your scream, oh my Jesus; more that the Father's abandonment, these are the souls that move away of you that make to escape of your Heart this painful lament: & God laquoMon, why have me you abandonné?» OH my Jesus, increase in all Thanks, so that no one gets lost. That my repair is to the profit of the souls that should get lost, so that they are saved.

Oh my Jesus, by this extreme abandonment that you feel on the Cross, I ask you to give your help to the numerous souls magnetizes to that you ask to have for mate your Abandonment, what you make while giving them the sensation to be deprived of your presence, to be dived in darkness--you that yet carry them so tight on your Heart. Oh Jesus, that the sufferings of these souls bring a lot of souls close to you and relieve you in your Pain.

Reflections and convenient

To the good thief, Jesus forgives with so much love as it is immediately that he takes it with him to the Paradise. And us, do we pray for the soul of the numerous dying who have need of a prayer, so that for them closes itself the hell and open up the doors of the Sky? Jesus' Pains on the Cross increases, but forgetful of himself, he/it constantly prays for us. He/it gives us all, including his/her/its a lot of Saint Mother, making of her the most precious grant of which arranged his/her/its Heart. And us, do we know all to give to Jesus?
In all that we make--prayers, actions, etc.--have ourselves still the intention to absorb the cool love in us, to be able all to give back to Jesus then? We must absorb the love to give back it, so that everything that we make carries Jesus' print. When does the Lord give us the devotion, light or the love, us know to serve noch to us for the many other, to encourage their conversion? Or let's keep ourselves egoistically for us only these Graces?

Oh my Jesus, that every small spark of love that I feel in my heart becomes a fire that consumes the heart of every creature and drives it to your Heart. What use do we make of the big grant that he/it made us his/her/its Mom? Do we make ours Jesus' love, his/her/its Tenderness and all that he/it made, in order to satisfy his/her/its Mom? Can we say that our divine Mother finds us of it the contentment that she found in her/its divine Son? Are we always united to her as faithful children, obeying to him and imitating his/her/its virtues?
To be able to give to Marie the contentment that he gave his/her/its Son, let's make ours the love that Jesus felt towards his/her/its Mother, the glory, the tenderness and all sharpness of love that he gave to him continually, and let's say to him: & laquoJ'ai in me Jesus and, to make you happy and so that you can find in me what you found in Jesus, I give you all. Besides, beautiful Mom, I want to give to Jesus all contentments that he/it found in you and, for that to make, I want to enter in your Heart and to take your Love, all your Tenderness and all your maternal Cares to give them to Jesus. Soft Mom, that your maternal Hands are the soft chains that result from me linked to you and to Jesus. & raquo

Jesus doesn't save himself/itself in anything. Us magnet of a supreme Love, he/it wants to save us all and, if it was possible, he/it would like to pull to the hell all souls, even while undergoing all their pains. However, he/it sees that a lot of souls try to detach itself/themselves of his/her/its Arms. Then, capable to contain his/her/its Pain, he/it exclaims: & God laquoMon, my God, why you have me abandonné?» And us, can we say that our love towards the souls is similar to the one of Jesus? Can we say that our prayers, our pains and all our actions, even smallest, are united to the Actions and Jesus' Prayers to pull the souls in the hell? How do we sympathize with Jesus in his/her/its immense Pain? If our life could consume itself in a continual holocaust, it would not be sufficient to sympathize adequately to this Pain. Every small action that we make in union with Jesus, every small pain that we live in union with can serve him to pull souls of Satan's claws so that they don't fall in hell. If we are united to Jesus, we have in hands his/her/its own Power. And if, on the contrary, we don't make our actions in union with him, they won't serve to not to prevent was that that a soul to go to hell. My Love and my All, hold me tight on your Heart, so that I feel how much the sinner afflicts you while detaching itself/themselves of you, and that so I can make my part to bring back it to you. Oh Jesus, that your Love burns my heart, so that I can feel the love that you have for the souls. When I endure some bitterness, then, oh Jesus, give free course to your Justice on me and take the satisfaction that you want. But the sinner, oh Jesus, that he/it is saved, and that my pains are a tie that attaches it to you, and that my soul has the consolation to see your satisfied Justice.
(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Then you expired, the whole nature cried over your painful death, you thankful for his/her/its Creator. The angels, by thousand, fly around the Cross and cry over your death. They adore you, you our true God, and accompany you to the limbs, where you surrender to fill joy so many souls that, since centuries, want you ardently.

My dead Jesus, I don't know how to detach me of your Cross, and I don't satiate myself to kiss your infinitely holy Wounds that tell me with oratory how much you like me. To see your horrible rips, the depth of your Wounds, so deep that they discover your Bones, I feel to die! I would like to cry so much on these Wounds that I would wash them of my tears. I would like so much to like you that I would heal you entire by my love and that I would restore to your hardly recognizable Humanity his/her/its original Beauty. I would like to open up the veins to fill yours of my blood and to bring back you to life.

Oh my Jesus, that cannot make the love? The love is Life! And me, by means of my love, I want to give back you life. And if my love is not sufficient, give me your own Love, and by means of this Love, I will be able to all. Yes, I will be able to give back Life to your infinitely holy Humanity.

Oh my soft Jesus, even died, you want to testify me your Love and to give me a shelter in your sacred Heart. Advanced by a supreme strength, a soldier, to ascertain your death, tears you the Heart of a stroke throws, you there opening a deep Wound. And you, my Love, you pour the last drops of blood and water that your blazing Heart contains. Ah! how many things tell me this Wound opened by the love! And if your Mouth is mute, your Heart speaks to me and says to me: & laquoMon child, after having given everything, I wanted, by this stroke of spear, to open in my Heart a shelter for all souls. My open Heart, will shout continually to all: & laquoVenez to me if you want to be saved. In me you will find the holiness, the relief in the tribulations, strength in the weakness, the peace in the doubts, the company in the solitude.

& laquoÔ souls that like me, if you want to like me indeed, stay always in this Heart. It is here that you will find the true love to like and of the ardent flames to burn you and to consume you of love. All is concentrated in this Heart: it is there that are the sacraments, the life of my Church, and the life of all souls. & laquoEn him, I also feel the profanations that make himself against my Church, the schemings of his/her/its enemies, the arrows that they shoot him, my children that they walk on the spot. Because there is not an offense that my Heart feels. Therefore, my child, that your life is in my Heart. Defend it, repair all offenses against him, drive all people there. & raquo

My Jesus, since by Love for me, you you are let wound the Heart by a spear, then, of your Hands, wound my heart, my affections, my desires and all myself. That there is not anything in me that is wounded by your Hands in love. I unite to the Pains distressing of our dear Mom, that, while seeing that one tears you the Heart, défaille of Pain and love. As a dove, she/it flies in your Heart to occupy the first place, to be there the first Repairer, the Queen, the Mediator between you and the creatures, there. With my Mom, I also want myself to fly in your Heart in order to see how she/it repairs the offenses of the creatures there. Oh my Jesus, in your Heart injured, I will find Life, so that, no matter what I will make, my actions will find life there. I won't give anymore of life to my thoughts, but if they want life, I will take your Thoughts. My will won't have anymore of life, but if it wants life, I will take your Will. My love won't have anymore of life, but if it wants life, I will take your Love. Oh my Jesus, all your Life I belong: it is your Will. My dead Jesus, I see that your disciples hurry to deposit you of the Cross. Joseph and Nicodème that, until now, were your disciples in secret, hey well, with courage, without fearing whatever it is, now want to give you a honorable burial. They take the hammers and pincers to accomplish the sacred and so sad déclouement, while your Mother, grief-stricken, spreads her maternal Arms to receive you on his/her/its Breast. My Jesus, while they open you, I want to help your disciples to sustain your infinitely holy Body. By means of the nails that they remove you, nail me entire on you. With your holy Mother, I want to adore you, to kiss you, then to lock me in your Heart in for more ever to take some.

Reflections and convenient

After his/her/its death, Jesus wanted, by Love for us, to be wounded by a spear. And us, do we let wound us in all things by Jesus? Or do we let wound us by the creatures, by the pleasures, by the attachment to ourselves? Coldness, the obscurities, the internal and external mortifications are the injuries that the Lord presents to our soul; if we don't receive them of God's Hands, we get injured ourselves, and our injuries activate our passions, our weaknesses, our self-esteem and all our pains. So, we receive them on the contrary, as injuries arranged in us by Jesus, he/it will put his/her/its Love, his/her/its Virtues and his/her/its Resemblance, there, what will make us deserve his/her/its Kissings, his/her/its Caresses and all Stratagems of the divine love. These injuries will be the voices that will call it and will force it to stay continually with us.

Oh my Jesus, that your spear is the guard that forbids me all injury coming from the creatures.
While leaving the Cross, Jesus is deposited in his/her/its Mom's Arms. And us, do we deposit in our Mom's Hands our doubts, our anxieties, our fears? Jesus rested on the Breast of his/her/its holy Mother. And us, do we make rest Jesus in us while making disappear our fears and our agitations? My Mom, of my heart removes of your maternal Hands everything that could stop Jesus from resting in me. (To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)

Jesus, the first to receive you on his/her/its breast, once you have been cleared of the Cross, was your Mother grief-stricken. Your transfixed Head rested mildly in his/her/its Arms.

Oh soft Mom, don't disdain to have me in your company and make that with you I can accomplish my last duties towards my beloved Jesus. My Mother full of sweetness, he/it is true that you surpass me in the love and in the gentleness to touch to my Jesus, but me, I will endeavor to imitate you better of my to please to him in all. Therefore, as you make him your Hands so finely, I also want myself, of my hands, to extract all thorns that surround his/her/its adored Head, and I want to unite my deep worships to yours.

Oh celestial Mom, your Hands remove Blood coagulated of Jesus' Eyes, these Eyes that, one day, gave Light to everybody and that, now, are darkened and extinct. Oh Mom, I unite to you; give to these divine Eyes a kiss together and let's adore them deeply! I see the Ears of my Jesus soaked of Blood, crushed by the slaps, torn by the thorns. Let's give, oh Mother, our worships to these Ears that don't hear anymore and that suffered so much, to awaken the souls deaf and obstinate to the calls of the Grace.

Oh soft Mom, I see that your Face is bathed of Tears while seeing Jesus' Face, the grief-stricken. I unite my pain to her yours. Together, let's remove him the mud and the spits that have it to this deformed point, and let's adore this Face of divine Majesty that made itself éprendre the Sky and the earth, and that, now, don't give anymore signs of life!

Oh soft Mom, let's give a kiss together to Jesus' divine Mouth that, by the suavity of his/her/its Speech attracted so many souls to his/her/its Heart! Oh Mother, it is with your own Mouth that I want to kiss his/her/its livid and gory Lips. I adore them deeply.

Oh my soft Mom, with you I want to give some kissings to my Jesus' adorable Body, reduced entire in an awful Wound. As you, I use my hands to put back the pieces of Flesh that hang his/her/its Body in place. Let's adore this infinitely holy Body deeply. Let's kiss, oh Mother, these creative Hands, that made so many prodigies for us, these transfixed Hands, contorted, now cold and stiffened by the death! Oh soft Mom, let's contain in their infinitely holy Injuries the fate of all souls. To his/her/its resurrection, Jesus will find them placed there by you, and no won't be lost. Oh Mother, in the name of all and with all, let's adore these precious Injuries together.

Oh celestial Mom, there you are giving some Kissings to Jesus' Feet. As they are distressing the Injuries of these divine Feet! The nails removed a part of the Flesh and Skin and the weight of the infinitely sacred Body tore them in a horrible manner! Let's give a kiss together to these Injuries and let's adore them deeply. In them, let's contain all steps of the sinners so that, when they walk, they hear Jesus' Steps behind them, and that so they don't dare to offend it. I see you, oh soft Mom, to fix the look the Heart opened of the adorable Jesus. Of grace, bury me in this sacred Heart. And as I will possess the Heart and the Life of my Beloved thus, I will remain there hidden until the eternity. Give me your Love, oh Mom, so that I can like Jesus as you. Give me your Pain so that, as you, I can suffer and can plead for all, and to repair all offenses made at this Heart!

Oh Mom, you that prepare Jesus for the burial, it is of your own Hands that I want to be buried with him, so that I can revive with him. So either him. And now, it is also yours, oh Mother in love, that I want to give my filial tribute. I sympathize a lot with you and, by means of all effusions of love of my heart, I would like to unite all palpitations, all desires, the whole life of the creatures and to deposit them before you as as many love acts. I sympathize with you for the extreme Pain that you endured while seeing crowned Jesus of thorns, tortured by the strokes and the nails; also while seeing these Eyes that don't look anymore at you, these Ears that don't hear your Voice, this Mouth that doesn't speak to you anymore, these Hands that don't caress you anymore, these Feet that won't follow you anymore, anymore. I would like to offer you the Heart of this same overflowing Jesus of love, to sympathize with you as you deserve it and to give a relief to your Pains so cruel.

Reflections and convenient

Jesus is buried. A stone closes the tomb and stop the Mom from continuing to watch and to admire his/her/its Son. And us, do we know how to conceal us to the looks of the creatures; is we indifferent to that that all forget us? In the holy things, we are in a holy indifference, us opposing to nothing of that that God waits for us? Is our look buried in Jesus' Look, so that we didn't look at anything, except Jesus and what emanates it? Is our voice buried in Jesus' Voice, so that if we speak, we only spoke with Jesus' Language? Are our steps buried in those of Jesus, so that when we walk, the only print that we let either the one of Jesus' Steps? And is our heart buried in the one of Jesus, so that we didn't like and wanted what likes only and want his/her/its Heart? My Mom, when, for the good of my soul, Jesus conceals himself/itself to me, give me the Grace that you had when you were deprived of his/her/its Presence, so that I can give him the whole glory that you gave to him when one deposited it in the sepulcher.

Oh Jesus, I want to ask you with your own Voice. And as your Voice penetrated the Heaven and reverberated in the voice of all, in particular in mine, that my voice penetrates until the Heaven to give you the glory of your own Voice. My Jesus, my heart palpitates, but I won't be happy if you don't make it palpitate with yours. With your Palpitations, I will like as you you like. I will give you the love of all creatures, and we will only hear a scream: & laquoAmour, Amour!» OH my Jesus, make you honor: in everything that I make, put the print of your Power, your Love and your Glory there.

(To finish with the prayer of acknowledgments.)