As we waited on the road to Calvary, Our Blessed Mother used to take my heart and place it in Father’s. Gradually my heart stayed in his longer periods of time until now it lives there complete-ly. During Mass our Lord gives me this marvelous grace, I feel so close, so one, with Jesus that around Father’s heart I feel the warm living Blood of Christ. All priests’ hearts during the Mass particularly, are within Jesus’.
During Father’s Christmas Mass, after Communion, I knelt at the feet of Jesus, and Mary, Joseph. Mary, beautiful in a heavy blue cloak, with the Divine Babe in Her arms. There was Saint Dominic, St. Catherine, Bl. Martin, many others. The angels sang with glory and joy. Then Jesus bent over and placed through our hearts a cold, black nail. It caused a sharp sweet pain. “Oh my Jesus, don’t ever let it stop.” As I knelt there I felt the wound and that the torn tissues of Father’s heart and mine were held as one by the wound. I am most conscious of this during Mass, but many other times. Yesterday, the feast of the Purification, after Mary showed me Her bleeding Sorrowful Heart, the wound in our hearts bled all day.