What will I do today? This day, in this present moment and not tomorrow, how will I occupy these monotonous and long hours which leave me with a bitter taste of idleness. Play on my computer? I am sick of it. Searching for any happiness on a dusty screen, wearing out my eyes and my heart in a frenzy of images and sounds … all of this leaves me unappetised, without joy and without remedy for these very real anxieties that gnaw at me.
Suddenly, my gaze settles on a statue, an image of the Immaculate Virgin. Prompted by the Spirit that blows when It wants, here I am going through light years and fleeting centuries to reach a poor house in Judea. There I find myself in the presence of a pure and transparent soul, which also seems to count the hours.
“My hour has come.” It is night. In a cave not far away, the God-made man bowed His forehead to the ground, covering Himself with the almost infinite multitude of the sins of the world, the sins of past and future centuries, of my own sins. Then the woman who patiently waited in her humble abode took my hand and, crossing the space which separated her from her Sweet Lord, led me to commune in her spirit.
So, whether in her body or outside her body, I don’t know, God knows, the Immaculate Virgin merged her spirit, her soul, her heart with the Heart of Jesus. She received the stigma of her agony in her soul: all our psychological, moral, physical sufferings and all our sins oppressed her soul as they did for Jesus Christ. She still received, whether in her body or outside her body, I don’t know God knows, all the stigma of flogging, all the lashes with which her Son was tortured. The dreadful crown of thorns tearing her heart apart at Fatima was also embedded in her soul. And in this communion of spirit she shared all including the least sufferings of Christ stripped of his clothes.
But this spiritual communion was no longer enough for her either. Mary trained me in great haste at the foot of Calvary. And she taught me that to the extent that the soul desires to unite with Jesus Christ in the same measure Jesus would come to unite with the soul.
Attentive to her teaching, she took my heart and buried it in hers like that spear which pierced the Heart of her Son. And crossing the sanctuary of her Immaculate soul, I was surprised to see it in flames. Everything had been consumed by the fire of love of the Holy Ghost, which still whispered “Sitio, I am thirsty”. So, I settled in this painful heart to make acts of reparation and love, spiritually communicating with the unspeakable sufferings of my Mother.
Thus ephemeral time merges with eternity. This spiritual communion of Mary with the sufferings of Jesus lasted at least a whole day, from the agony in the garden of olive trees to His death on the Cross. Never was a union more intimate, more intense and more real. Today, now, let us also unceasingly commune with this Immaculate Spirit to console Jesus and repair the offences of poor sinners.
