THE LOVE OF THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS FOR MEN

“Behold this Heart, that has so loved men, that it has left nothing undone; but has exhausted and consumed itself completely, to prove to them its love.”

(Words of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary.)

First Prelude: Picture our Divine Saviour revealing His Sacred Heart, from which burst forth flames of love.

Second Prelude: Inflame my heart, O Jesus, with the fire of Thy divine love, that for love of Thee I may love my neighbor as Thou desirest it of me.

First Point

THE HEART OF JESUS LOVES US WITH AN INFINITE LOVE

Who can think of the Sacred Heart of Jesus without being at the same time reminded of the infinite love of this Sacred Heart for men! His life on earth was an uninterrupted chain of deeds of love, which, being acts of the Incarnate Son of God, possess infinite value. Every act of our Blessed Lord was prompted by the infinite love of His Sacred Heart. Love drew Him into the chaste womb of His holy Mother; love laid Him into the manger; love marked every one of His steps with favors; love actuated His almighty hand to all the miracles that He wrought; love constrained Him to labor day and night unto exhaustion for our salvation; love smote Him to the ground in Gethsemane, to suffer the agony of death for us; love fastened Him to the Cross, whereon He suffered the most contemptible, most painful death for us; love even now conceals His Divinity and Humanity in the Sacrament of His Love.

Thus has the Saviour loved us, and loves us still. Should we not in return love Him, the infinitely gracious and loving Lord, since the love of all angels and saints combined is but a faint glimmer from the ocean of flames that emanate from the Divine Heart? Let us manifest our love, as Jesus did His infinite love, by sacrifices. Let us observe His commands and counsels with greatest fidelity, and conscientiously discharge our duties, persevering patiently under sufferings and steadfastly in all trials. Then the love of Jesus will grow in us and finally attain a capacity that will consume all earthly affections, so that we can in truth exclaim with the Psalmist: “What have I in heaven? And beside Thee what do I desire upon earth?” (Ps. 72, 25).

By what oblation will I prove my love of Jesus today?

Second Point

LOVE FOR THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS MUST ANIMATE OUR ZEAL FOR THE SALVATION OF OUR NEIGHBOR

When we contemplate the love of the Sacred Heart for men, and realize the excess of this love, we dare not remain indifferent but must will that all men love this Heart in return, that the fire be enkindled which Jesus came to bring on earth. Was it not zeal for souls that consumed the Sacred Heart of Jesus? For the love of men Jesus wept over Jerusalem; He yielded Himself up to the most excruciating torments, that men might be preserved from eternal perdition. What other motive than the love of souls impelled Jesus to expose Himself to all manner of insults and revilings in the Sacrament of His Love? Let us unite ourselves with the saints, who staked everything for the interest of the Sacred Heart, and counted not the cost when there was question of gaining souls to Christ. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is the glowing furnace in which their zeal for souls was enkindled so that by their prayers, their work, their example and their sacrifices, they saved countless souls.

How pleasing to the Sacred Heart of Jesus was this zeal, which incited them to fulfill His every wish. How generously did Jesus shower down upon them His graces, and how great is the reward which they found! Let us, then, beg Jesus to suffer us to fight under His banner, and with all the means at our disposal, especially by our works of charity, to lead others to a knowledge and love of the Sacred Heart. Then Christ’s promise to St. Margaret Mary shall be fulfilled in us also. His Heart will expand to pour out upon us to excess the treasures of His love.

Dare I presume to belong to the true adorers of the Sacred Heart, if I manifest only slight zeal for the salvation of souls so dear to the Sacred Heart of Jesus?

Affections: O infinitely loving Heart of my Saviour, deserving of all love, oh, that Thou wouldst conquer all hearts with the flames of Thy love! May I, at least, begin to love Thee earnestly! O Heart of Jesus, Thou Model of love, inflame me with Thy holy ardor, that I may daily grow in Thy love and according to Thy command, love my neighbor in and through Thee. Infuse into my heart great love for the children and the poor, that I may behold Thee in them and through charity, win their souls to Thy love. O Heart, infinitely rich in love and compassion, enrich our poor hearts with virtue and sanctity. Holiest Virgin, thou dispenser of grace and mediatrix with thy Son, obtain for us the grace to love Jesus above all else, and to shun no sacrifice when there is question of gaining souls to the Sacred Heart.

Resolution: For the love of Jesus, I will bestow upon my charges all the love of which I am capable, in order to win their hearts for God.

Spiritual Bouquet: “O loving Heart of Jesus, inflame our hearts with Thy sacred fire!”

Prayer:

Take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty,

my memory, my understanding, and my whole will.

Thou hast given me all that I am and all that I possess;

I surrender it all to Thee that Thou mayest dispose of it according to Thy Will.

Give me only Thy love and Thy grace; with these I will be rich enough,

and will have no more to desire.

(Indulgence of 300 days, once a day — Pope Leo XIII, May 26, 1883.)

Shaggycoat - Chapter 1

 
At the time when our story begins, Shaggycoat was a two-year-old beaver, fleeing with his grandfather from he knew not what. They had been so happy in the woodland lake, which was their home before the terrible intrusion, that the whole matter seemed more like a hideous dream than a reality.

When Shaggycoat thought of the old days and his family, he could remember warm summer afternoons upon clean sand banks, where he and his brothers and sisters frolicked together. Then there were such delightful swims in the deep lake, where they played water-tag, and all sorts of games, diving and plunging and swimming straight away, not to mention deep plunges to the bottom of the lake where they vied with one another in staying down. Then when they were hungry, the bulbs of the lily and a cluster of wild hops made a dinner that would make a beaver’s mouth water; with perhaps some spicy bark added as a relish.

Then came the cold and the pond was covered with ice. They could still see the sun by day and the stars by night, but they could not come to the surface to breathe as they had done before. There were a great many air holes, and places under the ice where the water did not reach it, but for breathing space they had to depend largely upon the queer conical houses in which they lived and their burrows along the bank.

There was still another way to breathe that I had nearly forgotten. A beaver or any of these little Water Folks can come up to the surface and breathe against the ice.

A big flat bubble is at once formed and as it strikes the ice it is purified and then the beaver breathes it in again and it is almost as fresh as though it came from the upper air. This he can do three or four times before having to find an air hole or going into one of the houses or burrows.

The beavers were very snug under the ice which kept away the wind and cold, and also their worst enemy, man.

The breath of the family made the houses warm, and as the walls were frozen solid, and were two or three feet thick, they were very hard to break into.

A store of wood had been laid up from which the bark was stripped for food as fast as it was needed, so that Beaver City had been very snug and comfortable, before the trouble came.

Then when they were sleeping through the short winter days, and prowling about the lake in the night in search of fresh twigs or sticks that had been frozen into the ice, the trouble began.

First there came the sound of pounding and soon there were holes in the ice near their supply of wood. Then occasionally a beaver who was hungry and had gone for breakfast was missed from the family or lodge where he lived. At first they thought he had gone for a swim on the lake and would soon come back, but when several had gone out to the winter’s store and had not returned, the truth dawned upon some of the older and wiser beavers. Their forest lake had been invaded by some enemy, probably man, and one by one the colony was being slaughtered.

There is but one thing to do at such a time and that is to take safety in flight, for the beaver does not consider that he can match his cunning against that of man.

While the beavers were still considering whether to go at once or wait another day, there were sounds of heavy blows upon the tops of their houses and then there was a loud explosion and the water began to fall. Then they fled in every direction, some taking refuge in the burrows that they had dug under the banks all along the lake for such an emergency, while others sought to leave the lake altogether; some going up stream and some down. But the destruction of Beaver City had been planned very carefully by their cunning enemy, man, and most of them perished while leaving the lake.

When the men who were watching on the ice above saw a beaver swimming in the water under them, they would follow upon the ice, going just where the beaver went. The beaver would stay near the bottom of the lake as long as he could hold his breath, but finally he would have to come to the surface for air when the trapper would strike a hard blow upon the ice, stunning him, or perhaps killing him outright. Then he would cut a hole in the ice and fish out his unfortunate victim.

It was from such perils as these, although they were not fully understood by the beavers, that Shaggycoat and his grandfather fled the second night of this reign of terror. They would gladly have gone in a larger company, with Shaggycoat’s brothers and sisters and with his father and mother, but all the rest of their immediate family were missing and they never saw them again.

They went in the inky night, before the moon had risen. Silently, like dark shadows, they glided along the bottom of the lake, which was still about half full of water, for the white man’s thunder had not been able to entirely destroy the beaver’s strong dam.

Shaggycoat’s grandfather, being very old, and wise according to his years, took the lead, and the younger beaver followed, keeping close to the tail of his guide. They swam near the bottom and were careful to avoid the bright light of the great fires that men had built upon the ice in many places to prevent their escape.

By the time the moon had risen they were near the upper end of the lake. They at once took refuge in an old burrow that the trappers had overlooked and lay still until the moon went under a cloud when they came out and crept along the bank, still going under the ice. When the moon appeared again they hid under the roots of a tree that made a sort of natural burrow. There they lay for all the world like the ends of two black logs, until a friendly cloud again obscured the moon when they pushed on. Once the trappers came very near to them when they were hiding behind some stones, waiting for a friendly cloud, and Shaggycoat was about to dash away and betray their whereabouts, when his grandfather nipped him severely in the shoulder which kept him still, and alone saved his fine glossy coat.

They were now getting well up into the river that had supplied their lake, and it was not so easy to find breathing places as it had been in the lake where the water was low. But they could usually find some crack or crevice or some point where there were a few inches between the water and the ice and where they could fill their lungs before they journeyed on.

They had come so far and so fast that poor Shaggycoat’s legs ached with the ceaseless motion, but the older beaver gave him no rest, and led him on and on, swimming with easy, steady strokes. Although his own legs were weary and a bit rheumatic, he valued his life more than he did his legs and so set his teeth and breasted the current bravely. They both held their fore paws close up under them and used their hind legs entirely for propelling themselves, so these had to do double duty, plying away like the screw wheel on a great steamer.

When Shaggycoat remonstrated against going any farther, saying in beaver language that his legs were ready to drop off, his senior reminded him that his skin would drop off if they stopped, and, with a new wild terror tugging at his heart, he fled on.

When daylight came, they had covered five good English miles up the river, and were nearly eight miles from their dam and the beautiful woodland lake that had been their home.

Then the old beaver began looking for some burrow or overhanging bank where they might hide during the day and get some sleep, of which they were in great need. Finally they found a suitable place where the bank had shelved in, leaving a natural den, high and dry above the water. Here they rested and passed the day, getting nothing better to eat than a few frozen lily stems and some dead bark from a log that had been frozen into the ice. The dry lifeless bark was not much like the tender juicy bark that they were used to, but it helped a little to still the gnawings of hunger, and in this retreat they soon fell asleep and slept nearly the whole of the day.

But the older beaver was always watchful, sleeping with one eye open, as you might say, and waking very easily.

Once, when he was awakened by a sense of danger, he saw a large otter swim leisurely by their hiding-place and his heart beat hard and fast until he was out of sight, for he knew that if the otter discovered them, he would at once attack them and the battle would probably end in his favor.

Shaggycoat would be of little help in a real fight for life and the old beaver was far past his prime, his teeth being dull and broken. When the otter was out of sight, the watchman lay down and resumed his nap.

When Shaggycoat awoke, he knew it was evening for he could plainly see the stars shining through the ice.

His legs were cramped and stiff and there was a gnawing sensation in the region of his stomach, but there was nothing in sight to eat. His grandfather informed him in beaver language that there were weary miles to cover before they could rest again.

As soon as it was fairly dark, they came out from under the overhanging bank that had shielded them so nicely during the day and resumed their journey, swimming like two ocean liners, on and on. Their track was not as straight as that of the boats would have been, for they dodged in and out, going where the darker ice and projecting banks gave them cover, and stopping when they scented danger.

When they had gone about a mile, they found a spot where the river had set back over the bank, freezing in some alder bushes. Upon the stems of these they made a scant meal and went on feeling a bit better. This night seemed longer and wearier to Shaggycoat than the first had. He was not so fresh and the first excitement was over, but the old beaver would not let him rest as he knew their only safety lay in putting a long distance between them and their destroyers.

They were not so fortunate in finding a hiding-place as they had been the day before, but they finally took refuge in a deserted otter’s burrow, which made them a very good nest, although it was possible that some wandering otter might happen in, and dispossess them.

When night again came round, they made a light supper on frozen lily stems and pushed on. They covered less distance that night than they had done before, for both were feeling the strain of the long flight, and so they rested frequently and took more time to hunt for food.

About daybreak of this third night of their journey, they found an open place in the ice where the stream was rapid and went ashore; here they soon satisfied their hunger upon the bark of the poplar and birch.

When they had made a good meal, the prudent old beaver, assisted by Shaggycoat, felled several small poplars and cutting them in pieces about three feet long dragged them under the ice to a protected bank and hid them against the time of need, for he had decided to spend a few days where they were, getting the rest and sleep which they both needed.

Dear Jesus, thank You for coming to live in my heart. Help me make it a soft, warm place for You to stay. And thank You for little joys like muddy beavers and faithful corgis who don’t want to be left out. Abide in me always. Amen.

The Rosary Was Her Weapon

July 1, 1956

Dear Diary

This morning I read a poem Sister Mary Claire tucked into my All for Jesus book. It was about a time long ago, when men’s hearts were burning brighter for Heaven than maybe they do now. It made me feel like crying in the nicest way, like how I sometimes do when I think about Jesus in the Tabernacle waiting for me.

The poem told the story of St. Dominic—how the earth had grown so dark with sin, and he was praying in his lonely cell. But in the silence of night, Our Lady came to him! She was holding Baby Jesus, and She smiled at Dominic. She didn’t give him a sword or an army—but something better. She gave him the Rosary.

She said it was the weapon that would scatter evil, but it wasn’t made of metal or fire—it was made of prayers. Just prayers, and love.

That part made my heart feel like a little bell ringing. I looked over at my own Rosary lying beside the grotto rock and picked it up with new hands. Like it was made of silver and fire and angel light all at once. I said just one decade, slow and soft, and asked Our Lady to help me love her Rosary more.

Sometimes I wish I could have lived in those olden days when miracles happened in cells and glens and chapels. But maybe Sister is right—Our Lady is still visiting, still giving the same Rosary to anyone who will carry it like a sword for Heaven.

Even me.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Love, Kathy

Evening Prayer

Dear Blessed Mother,
I want to be like St. Dominic, brave in prayer.
Let your Rosary be my sword,
and help me pray it with my whole heart.

Please watch over Sister Mary Claire, and Mini too,
and everyone who forgets to pray.

Amen.

THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS IS OPEN TO ALL

“And My delights were to be with the children of men” (Prov. 8, 31).

First Prelude: Behold Jesus on the Cross; a soldier pierces His Heart with a spear.

Second Prelude: O Jesus, let me realize the mystery of Thy opened Heart, and grant that I may take up my abode in this hallowed place of refuge.

FIRST POINT

THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS IS OPENED FOR US THAT WE MAY REALIZE HIS LOVE

When our Divine Saviour said to St. Margaret Mary: “Behold this Heart!” He exhorted us to contemplate His Sacred Heart. The Sacred Heart of Jesus is, as it were, an open book full of wisdom, knowledge and virtue, in which the saints learned the knowledge and the practice of perfection. In the Sacred Heart they recognized clearly the way the Lord had traced for their sanctification. Though this way was rough and burdensome, a way of the cross, full of sacrifices and sufferings, they found strength in the Sacred Heart of Jesus to pursue it courageously, even joyfully. They understood the art of appropriating to themselves the immense treasures of the Sacred Heart, and to draw in fullest measure from this fountain-head of life eternal, consolation, encouragement, fortitude and perseverance.

Oh, that we understood the art of drawing copiously from this inexhaustible source of graces! Whatever our hearts desire, light, wisdom, virtue and all good gifts are to be found there abundantly. If we are destitute of heavenly goods, and our goal still seems afar off in uncertainty, we dare not yield to discouragement, for the Heart of our God is even open to us and with Him nothing shall be impossible. Let us endeavor to discharge our daily duties conscientiously. Every little sacrifice will merit for us an increase of love which will impel and strengthen us to still nobler sacrifices. Sanctity consists in constant fidelity in little things and in the zealous endeavor to perform our daily actions in a perfect manner. Let us, then, hasten ever again to the portals of grace, to the Heart of Jesus, that we may grow rich in virtue and thus correspond with the infinitely loving designs of our Divine Saviour.

Have I striven to learn the science of the saints from the Sacred Heart of Jesus? Do I comply with the longing of the Saviour to draw from this fountain-head of graces whatever I lack?

SECOND POINT

THE SACRED HEART IS OPEN THAT WE MAY HIDE THEREIN

The Divine Heart of Jesus desired to be wounded to open for all men the door through which they can enter to rest and conceal themselves in this hallowed refuge. St. Bernard realized this when he cried out: “Oh, how sweet it is to take up one’s abode in the Sacred Heart of Jesus!” St. Francis de Sales, amidst the greatest and most varied occupations, maintained perfect peace and serenity of soul, because he constantly dwelt in this lovable abode. At all times the Sacred Heart of Jesus was the secure refuge of faithful souls. They gladly returned to this Sanctuary of Love, this interior solitude to enjoy the presence of God. Oh, that the Divine Heart might also be our favored refuge. Are we distracted by the works of our vocation, let us gently urge our soul to return to this sweet abode, there to taste again the delights of recollection. If during prayer, our spirit tempts us to wander, let us fly to this holy temple and unite ourselves with the fervor and the perfection of the prayers of Jesus. If our hearts are dismayed at the sins of the past, or the abuse of the graces received in religion, let us hide in this secure fortress, from the wily attacks of the Evil One, who strives to effect our ruin by plunging us into mistrust and despair.

Let us reanimate our confidence at the thought of the love of Jesus, Who, in order to reopen heaven for us, shed the last drop of His Precious Blood. At the approach of death and especially in our last hour, we will redouble our confidence in His Sacred Heart, and conceal ourselves in this sure refuge, which Jesus, by His death, opened for all. What a consolation in that dread moment will be the thought that we have always striven to live in union with the Divine Heart, and that we, therefore, now hope to find in this sacred resting place an abode of peace, happiness, and bliss for all eternity.

Affections:

O adorable Heart of my Saviour! Thou wert opened with a lance that we might always have access to Thee, the fountain-source of mercy. Thou dost never withdraw Thy graces from those who are drawn to Thy Sacred Wounds by sentiments of sincere compunction, strong affection and tender gratitude. I will, therefore, come confidently to the open portals of grace; will enter into the hallowed sanctuary to gather new strength; to draw from this unfathomable ocean for myself and others all heavenly goods. I will beg my Saviour to immerse my heart so deeply into His, that it may find in Him a secure refuge for life and the most agreeable resting place for all eternity. Immaculate Mother, thou spotless sanctuary of the Heart of Thy Son, show us the way to this dear Heart, that earthly affections may not lure us from thee but that, despising the goods of earth, we may find our delight and joy in the wound of the Sacred Side.

Resolution:

I will entrust my prayers, labors and sufferings to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and especially in time of temptation and trials, have recourse to Him.

Spiritual Bouquet:

“One thing have I desired, O Lord, that I may dwell in Thy Heart all the days of my life.”

Prayer:

O JESUS, LIVING IN MARY

O Jesus, living in Mary! come and live in Thy servants, in the spirit of Thy holiness, in the fullness of Thy might, in the truth of Thy virtues, in the perfection of Thy ways, in the communion of Thy mysteries; subdue every hostile power, in Thy spirit for the glory of the Father. Amen.

(Indulgence of 300 days, once a day. — Pius IX, Oct. 14, 1859.) 

"Dear Diary"

HE  STAYED

Monday Evening – June 30th, 1956

Dear Diary

This morning Robert picked us up early for Mass at St. Mary’s, and Mini was waiting at the door with her ears perked and her little bottom wiggling. She always knows when it’s Church day. The road was quiet as we rode along, and Sister Mary Claire pulled out a meditation she’d saved for today—the last Monday in June.

She read it softly, but the words stayed loud in my heart:

“Knowing that the hour was come when He would go to the Father, Jesus would not leave us… but found a means to remain with us in the adorable Sacrament of the Altar, to the end of time.”

Jesus stayed. Not just as a memory or a story, but really—truly—in the tabernacle at St. Mary’s. He’s there right now. Thinking of us. Waiting.

After Communion, I tried to kneel extra still, just to be near Him. I whispered: Jesus, I know You’re here. I want to stay too. When we got back in the truck, Sister showed Robert and me an old photo someone had sent her. It was from Quebec, Canada. There were people gathered outside a church, all kneeling down on the ground. No ceremony—just quiet, plain people kneeling because they knew Jesus was inside.

It made my heart hurt in a strange way. Not bad, just deep. Like I’d remembered something important that the world seems to be forgetting. That’s when I thought of the poem I’d read once from the little book on Sister’s shelf—the one that says:

There is a glorious legend

Of the times now passed away,

Of the times when faith was brighter

Than it is in this our day—

That part always gives me goosebumps.

Sometimes I wonder if I was born too late. I think I would’ve knelt with them. Maybe I still can. Not in Quebec, and not out in the field—but right here in this day, in this Church, in this heart. That’s what Sister said too: “Jesus didn’t stay just for those old times. He stayed for ours.”

So tomorrow I’ll try to go inside St. Mary’s for just a minute—even if the candles aren’t lit and the pews are empty. I’ll kneel, and I’ll tell Him what the meditation reminded me: You give all You have—Yourself, Your Sacred Humanity, Your Divinity, Your infinite love. I want to give You back a little love too.

Dear Jesus,

Thank You for staying. Even when the world forgets, don’t let me forget. Let my little heart be Your kneeler.

Love,

Kathy

EFFECTS OF THE DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS

“My son, give Me thy heart: and let thy eyes keep my ways” (Prov. 23, 26).

First Prelude: Behold Jesus in the tabernacle revealing to us His love-inflamed Heart, and pleading: “My child, give Me thy heart!”

Second Prelude: Teach me, O my Jesus, to realize the essence of perfect abandonment, and give me grace to practice it.

First Point

The Sacred Heart of Jesus Teaches Us Perfect Abandonment

“He hath loved me and delivered Himself for me,” says the apostle (Gal. 2, 20).

Oh, that we would realize what sacrifices of love the total surrender of the Saviour comprised! Full of compassion He took upon Himself the fatiguing labors, sufferings and humiliations of His earthly career. His Heart was ready for any sacrifice. Beholding our Divine Exemplar, let us learn the effects that devotion to the Sacred Heart should produce in us. To give our all to God, to accept all things at His hands, to suffer for love of Him, to discharge for His honor whatever obedience enjoins upon us, is, in very deed, conforming our heart to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Let us, therefore, say with the Psalmist: “My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready” (Ps. 107, 2).

Oh, how God is glorified by such a complete surrender! How the confidence it implies honors Him, and how He is constrained to be, as it were, at the beck of souls so completely His own. He observes their every thought, desire and inclination. He counts the steps they take on the path of perfection, that He may bestow His graces in the measure of their fidelity. Total surrender to God is the securest way to sanctity, and, therefore, to true happiness. Blessed, indeed, are souls who surrender themselves wholly to Jesus and His love, desiring nothing, seeking nothing, save God alone. Weighed down with crosses they still remain calm, placid and resigned, in the conviction that nothing can befall them, no temptation assail them unless God permits it for their good, and at the same time, imparts the energy necessary to achieve the victory over difficulties.

Let us strive more and more to forget self and all creatures to think solely of God and the accomplishment of His Divine Will, that Jesus may lead us, too, on the way of perfect abandonment to sanctity and true happiness.

Is it my daily endeavor to see God in everything and to please Him alone?

Second Point

The Sacred Heart of Jesus Teaches Us Constant and Generous Abandonment

“Few men,” says St. Francis de Sales, “attain to perfect abandonment to God.” Few realize the entire worth of it, and still smaller is the number of those who strive for it perseveringly. Perfect surrender of the soul consists in loving nothing save the Will of God, in being indifferent to sickness or health, joys or sorrows, temptations, aridity, desolation, repugnance and resistance. Our Divine Saviour sets us the most beautiful example of perfect abandonment. His whole life was an uninterrupted act of abandonment to the Will of His heavenly Father, as He Himself testified when He said: “My food is to do the will of Him Who hath sent me” (John 4, 34).

Let us, then, learn from the Heart of Jesus the art of generous, self-immolating love, which, not content with merely saying, “I will what Thou wilt, O Lord,” cheerfully surrenders self, should God demand the sacrifice of our will, our judgment and inclinations.

Let us imitate our Divine Saviour, Whose love for us is unchangeable, Who immolated Himself for us, from the first moment of His earthly life, until the moment of His death on the cross; and Whose last word was an act of total surrender: “Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit.” How painful should it be to the Heart of the Saviour if souls chosen to be His spouses would hesitate to yield themselves up unconditionally to His loving guidance. Oh, let us consider that our happiness lies in the hands of the best of Fathers, Who loves us, Who knows what is salutary for us, Who can do all things because He is omnipotent. Am I of the number of those who ever so often immolate their heart to Jesus, but who reclaim it just as often, if He asks of them self-denial and renunciation?

Affections:

O Divine Heart of my Saviour, how could I refuse to follow Thy loving invitation! I come to Thee to draw from this inexhaustible source, the graces, the means of salvation and the consolations, which Thy love offers me in all my sufferings and needs. Take my heart, O Jesus, and possess it without reserve. How could I seek my happiness in anything except wholehearted immolation of myself to Thee, that I may live henceforth only under Thy beneficent reign. Replenish my heart, O Jesus, with a fiery and generous love, that by fervor and perfect abandonment my heart may resemble Thine. O Mary, Queen of hearts, reign in my heart, and imbue it with thy sentiments of complete surrender to the holy Will of God, under all circumstances.

Resolution:

I will frequently renew the unreserved oblation of my heart to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Spiritual Bouquet:

“My child, give Me thy heart!”

Prayer:

Soul of Christ, be my sanctification.
Body of Christ, be my salvation.
Blood of Christ, fill all my veins.
Water of Christ’s side, wash out my stains.
Passion of Christ, my comfort be.
O good Jesus, listen to me.
In Thy wounds I fain would hide,
Ne’er to be parted from Thy side.
Guard me should the foe assail me.
Call me when my life shall fail me.
Bid me come to Thee above,
With Thy saints to sing Thy love,
World without end. Amen.

My Mother's Rosary

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