Returned from Private Retreat

Returned from private retreat ten days early. Bizarre happenings. It ended up being a "business" trip with much suffering and a couple or three more "assignments." Have been quite ill. Obstacles persisted through the final airport with an issue over a small vial of holy water. The line was drawn, however, and other airport employees kindly boxed the small bottle and shipped it free in plane's belly. One bigoted employee did not get her way, thankfully, and the holy water from Mariazell basilica was not tossed out.

A letter came from a woman who reports nerve problems much of her life. She writes of how lonely it is to be a mystic. The timing of her letter is apropos, for the retreat brought another encounter with a soul of unusual dimension and also horrific capacities.

The experiences float in and out; much is blurred of the time away. The body nearly emptied of electricity save for a ground wire. The soul at times seemed, this past week, about to detach. Much rest, Sacrament of the Annointing of the Sick, Mass finally and to see the Bishop and VG concelebrate, thankfully so. On eighth day of antibiotics and yet depleted, but sparks here and there, in evidence.

So much to mull over of the interior, of the experience which causes the nothing to confront an aspect of the soul. And this aspect causes the nothing to be yet more hidden. From Psalm 26 comes the assurance that the Lord has protected the nothing in His Tabernacle--and there the nothing shall remain.

For safe-keeping, the nothing must remain in the Tabernacle, and the Catholic Church is its only hiding place; and within that hiding place a very narrow nook for experience of others who have chosen to spill out the chalice, demonstrate a sorrowful fate.

So much occurred that is best, at least for now, not described. It has been shared with the confessor who has tried to comprehend. As for other matters, a confessor there in the distant land said to leave it to my Bishop. Another said God was proving the nothing. It seemed stretched beyond endurance, but here it be, and back at Mass late in the afternoon just past. And God willing and body able, to go today and from here on, and to remain in the Tabernacle.

"For my mother and father have left me, but the Lord hath taken me up." (Ps. 26)

There Are Worse Things in Life than Death

This is the theme of a recent pilgrimage. There was much suffering involved. Returned quite ill in body and suffering in soul, as well. But this is the life and dying to self of a victim soul. If one offers to suffer and die for the Church, to live in Christ and do His will, to offer to join Christ in reparative suffering--then suffering is to be expected.

Why does it take me by surprise? Ignorance and naivete. Not being aware, perhaps, and not being focused enough on the mission as victim soul.

A poor confession was made elsewhere. The sin could not be adequately described, but it had to do with no suffering well enough, not appreciating the suffering, not honoring the present moment in the deep suffering--nor being joyful in the location of the suffering.

It is difficult to write at this time. So much has transpired. But victim souls seem to be called to be available for the individual, hidden and forgotten souls of the world. The reality becomes simply being put in their paths, literally, so as to get to know the need of their souls, and then in ways inexplicable to describe, having occasions build and unfold in order to suffer greatly for these very real and living persons.

And, it would seem quite feasible, that suffering can also be offered and experienced for those not living. Must ponder this awhile, however.