Harvesting The Fruits of Contemplation

(Image source: Wikimedia Commons ) "Poor, pitiable sinners. Do not turn away from Me...Day and night I am on watch for you in the tabernacle. I will not reproach you...I will not cast your sins in your face...But I will wash them in My blood and My wounds. No need to be afraid...Come to Me...If you only knew how dearly I love you." (Jesus to Sister Josefa Menendez from The Way of Divine Love)

"Now write for My souls: I want to tell them of the poignant sorrow which filled My heart at the Last Supper. If it was bliss for Me to think of those to whom I should be both Companion and Heavenly Food, of all those would surround Me to the end of time with adoration, reparation and love…this in no wise diminished My grief at the many who leave Me deserted in My tabernacle and who would not even believe in MY Real Presence…Sacrileges and outrages, and all the nameless abominations to be committed against Me passed before My eyes… (Image source: Wikimedia Commons ) It is love for souls that keeps Me a prisoner in the Blessed Sacrament, I stay there that all may come and find the comfort they need in the tenderest of Hearts, the best of Fathers, the most faithful of Friends, who will never abandon them. The Holy Eucharist is the invention of Love…Yet how few souls correspond to that love which spends and consumes itself for them." (Sister Josefa Menendez from ...

(Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Center ) “I want to tell them of the poignant sorrows which filled My Heart at the Last Supper. If it was bliss for Me to think of all those to whom I should be both Companion and Heav­enly Food, of all who would surround Me to the End of Time with adoration, reparation, and love. . . this in no wise dimin­ished My grief at the many who would leave Me deserted in My tabernacle and who would not even believe in My Real Pres­ence.  

“Contemplate Me in the prison where I spent the greater part of the night. The soldiers came and, adding words to injuries,   insulted Me, mocked Me, outraged Me, and gave Me blows on My face and on My whole body.   Tired of their sport, at length they left Me bound and alone in the dark and noisome place, where, seated on a stone, My aching body was cramped with cold. Compare the prison with the Tabernacle, and especially with the hearts that receive Me. "In the prison I spent only part of the night…but in the Tabernacle, how many days and nights? In the prison I was insulted and ill-treated by soldiers who were my enemies. In the Tabernacle most often it is they who call Me their Father who treat Me thus, but how unlike that of children is the treatment!   In the prison I endured cold, sleeplessness, hunger and thirst, solitude, and desertion. And there passed before My mind’s eye all the tabernacles where in the course of ages I should lack the shelter...