from 9 to 10 at night
FIFTH HOUR
The first hour of agony in the Garden of Gethsemane
Preparation for each HOUR
And for those hours that I cannot reflect on, I offer you my willingness to remember them, and I intend to consciously reflect on them whenever I have to devote time to pfulfilling their duties or sleeping.
Accept, O merciful Lord, my loving intention and make it beneficial for me and for all, as if I had effectively and sanctimoniously accomplished what I wish to do.Meanwhile, I thank You, my Jesus, that through prayer You call me to unite myself with You. And to please You even more, I take Your thoughts, Your language, Your Heart, and I intend to pray with them, merging my whole self into Your Will and Your Love. I stretch out my arms to embrace You, I lay my head on Your Heart, and I begin...
My tormented Jesus, I feel drawn to this Garden as if by an electric current. I understand that You, the powerful magnet of my wounded heart, are calling me, and I run, thinking to myself: what is this charm of love that I feel within me? Ah, perhaps my persecuted Jesus is in such a state of bitterness that He feels the need for my company... And I rush. But no! I feel terrified as I enter this Garden... The darkness of the night, the nagging cold, the slow movement of the leaves, which, like mournful voices, announce the pain, sadness, and death of my suffering Jesus, the delicate twinkling of the stars, which, like weeping eyes, strain their gaze and echo Jesus' weeping and reproach me for my ingratitude. So I tremble, I search for Him blindly and call out to Him: Jesus, where are You? You call me and You don't show Yourself? You call me and You hide Yourself?
Everything is terrifying and frightening, everything is deeply silent... But I listen carefully and hear heavy breathing, and it is Jesus I find... But what a painful change! This is no longer the sweet Jesus of the Eucharistic Supper, whose face shone with dazzling and enchanting beauty. He is sad, with a deadly sadness that distorts His natural beauty... He is already in agony. I feel anxious at the thought that I may never hear His voice again, because He seems to be dying... So I embrace His feet. I become bolder and approach His arms. I place my hand on His forehead to support Him, and I whisper to Him: Jesus, Jesus!
And He, moved by my voice, looks at me and says: Daughter, are you here? I have been waiting for you. It was sadness that tormented Me the most—being completely abandoned by everyone. I have been waiting for you to make you a witness to my sufferings and to let you drink with me the cup of bitterness that my Heavenly Father will soon send me through an angel. We will drink it together, for it will not be a cup of consolation, but of great bitterness. I feel the need for some loving soul to drink at least a few drops from it. So I have called you to accept it and share my sufferings with me, and to assure me that you will not leave me alone in such great abandonment!
Oh yes, my tormented Jesus, we will drink the cup of your bitterness together, we will suffer your pains, and I will never leave your side!
The suffering Jesus, assured by me, falls into mortal agony and endures pains that have never been seen or heard before... And I, unable to bear it and wanting to show Him compassion and bring Him relief, say to Him: Tell me why You are so sad, suffering, and alone in this Garden and on this night. It is the last night of Your life on earth. You have only a few hours left before the beginning of Your Passion... I thought I would find at least Your Heavenly Mother, loving Magdalene, and the faithful apostles, but I find You alone and immersed in sadness, which inflicts a cruel death on You and does not allow You to die... O my Goodness and my Everything, will you not answer me? Speak to me! But it seems that you are at a loss for words, so great is the sorrow that torments you. But, O my Jesus, it is your gaze, full of light, but suffering and searching, which seems to be looking for help, your pale face, your lips chapped with love, your Divine Person, which trembles from head to toe, Your Heart beating strongly — and its beats seeking souls and causing such shortness of breath that it seems that at any moment You may breathe Your last — all this tells me that You are alone and therefore desire my company. Here I am, Jesus, all for You and with You. What's more, I don't have the heart to see you abandoned on the ground... I take you in my arms and hold you close to my heart. I want to count, one by one, your worries, one by one, the insults that appear before you, to bring you relief in everything, reparation for everything, and at least one joy of mine for everything... But, my Jesus, as I hold you in my arms, your sufferings intensify... My life, I feel the fire flowing in your veins and I feel your blood boiling and wanting to burst your veins to get out... Tell me, my Love, what you are doing. I see no whips, no thorns, no nails, no cross, and yet when I lay my head on Your Heart, I feel cruel thorns piercing your head, that merciless whips spare no part of your Divine Person, inside or outside, and that your hands are more paralyzed and twisted than if they were pierced with nails... Tell me, my sweet Goodness, who has such power even within You to torment You and make You suffer as many deaths as there are torments inflicted on You.
Ah, it seems that blessed Jesus opens His weak and dying lips and says to me: My daughter, do you want to know who torments Me more than My tormentors themselves? Or rather, the torments of My tormentors are nothing compared to this! It is Eternal Love, which, wanting to have priority in everything, makes Me suffer everything at once, and in the most hidden places makes Me suffer what the torturers make Me suffer gradually... Ah, my daughter, it is Love that completely dominates Me and is in Me. Love is a nail for Me, Love is a whip for Me, Love is a crown of thorns for Me, Love is everything for Me. Love is My constant Passion, while the Passion inflicted by man is only temporary... Ah, my daughter, enter into My Heart, come and melt into My Love. Only in my Love will you be able to understand how much I suffered and how much I loved you, and you will learn to love Me and to suffer only out of love.
Oh my Jesus, since you call me into your Heart to show me what Love has made you suffer, I enter into it. But when I enter it, I see the wonders of Love, which crowns Your head not with material thorns, but with thorns of fire, which scourges You not with whips of rope, but with whips of fire, which nails You to the cross not with iron nails, but with nails of fire... Everything is Fire, which penetrates even your bones and marrow, and by transforming your entire Most Holy Humanity into Fire, it inflicts mortal pains on you, certainly greater than the Passion itself, and prepares a bath of Love for all souls who wish to purify themselves of all stains and obtain the right to be daughters of Love.
About Love without limits, I feel that I am nothing in the face of such immense Love, and I see that in order to enter into Love and understand it, I must become love myself! Oh my Jesus, I am not love! But since You desire my company and want me to enter into You, I ask You to make me become completely love. Therefore, I ask You to crown my head and every thought of mine with the crown of Love. I beg You, Jesus, to scourge my soul, my body, my spiritual faculties, my feelings, my desires, my emotions, in short, everything, with the scourges of love. Let me be scourged and sealed with love in everything. Make it so, infinite Love, that there be nothing in me that does not take its life from Love.
O Jesus, center of all love, I beg you to nail my hands and feet with the nails of love, so that, completely pierced by Love, I may become love, understand love, clothe myself in love, and feed on love. May love keep me completely nailed to You, so that nothing inside or outside of me dares to turn me away and tear me away from love, O Jesus!
Thanksgiving after every HOUR
My beloved Jesus, You called me in this HOUR of Your Passion to keep You company, and I came. It seemed to me that I could hear You praying in agony and pain, making reparation, suffering, and you ask for the salvation of souls with the most moving and convincing voice. I have tried to accompany you in everything. And since I must now leave you to attend to my work, I feel obliged to to say thank you and bless you.
Yes, Jesus, I thank You a thousand times over and bless You for everything You have done and suffered for me and for everyone. I thank You and bless You for every drop of blood You shed, for every breath, for every heartbeat, for every step, word, glance, bitterness, and insult You suffered. Everything, O my Jesus, I intend to mark with my thank You and bless You. O my Jesus, make a continuous stream of thanksgiving and blessings flow to You from my whole being, so that I may draw upon myself and upon everyone the stream of Your blessings and Your graces. Oh, Jesus, hold me close to Your Heart and mark every part of my being with Your most holy hands with Your blessing, so that nothing but a constant hymn of praise to You may flow from me.