June 11, 1987
(By now most of our furniture gone I have to look for chairs to sit to write, the house is still messy after the packers left, heaps of papers here and there shoes, bottles, papers, belts on all desks. Yet in all this, moving, among the buffets we had to prepare for farewells (one of 80 people, another 30) God’s hand did not release a bit, I always found time for Him to write two – three hours daily. He gives me incredible strength and don’t feel the least tired, I’m in total peace, His Peace.)
Vassula, beloved of My Soul, stay near Me, face Me, let My finger touch your heart; My child, if you knew how much I love you; I will guide you till the end; sacrifice more for Me; – will you suffer for Me?
Yes Lord, do as You please.
(He had previously asked this, but I had hesitated, fearing. Now He asked again.)
Vassula, I am so happy! will you sacrifice yourself for Me like a lamb?
Do as You please, Lord.
all will not be in vain, all will be for Peace and Love; My thirst is great Vassula; I will lead you into arid lands, where your eyes will behold what you have never seen; I will lead you with Heavenly Force, right into the very depths of My Bleeding Body; I will point out to you with My finger all the sacerdotal sinners who are the thorns of My Body; I will not spare them; I am worn out, My Wounds are wider than ever, My Blood is gushing out; I am being recrucified by My own, My own Sacerdotal souls!
My God, You give me so much pain, why would they do that to You? Why?
Vassula, they know not what they are doing; beloved, strive with your God, be willing to face My sufferings and share them with Me;
I will, to console You; remember those who love You!
they are the beloved ones of My Soul; I need more of these souls, immolating their hearts for Me; I love them, I trust them, they eat from Me; they are My sacrifice, they are the smooth petals, which replace My thorns; they are My myrrh;
Vassula, do not fear; we will penetrate deeper still where darkness prevails; I will lead you;
(Later on my soul started to feel God’s bitterness. Every thing, every food or drink which came into my mouth tasted bitter. He made me drink from His chalice. I then had problems in breathing, my soul and body ached.)