Dimora is an Italian word that means “residence” or “home.” I just returned from the…
Last Wednesday, I was driving along. Good time to pray the Rosary. Glorious Mysteries. A soft arrow shot through my heart, drawing me to the Sorrowful
Mysteries. My Jesus. He suffers. He is suffering now. I must be with Him. I must console Him.
I am so drawn to You, Lord, in Your suffering. How strange and mysterious. You’ve been with me my whole life, and I with you. My Suffering Jesus, I love you. My heart began to swell with longing and ardent need to be very close to Him, to console Him.
I drove further and saw a woman in her car, cigarette dangling from her lips, hair disheveled, a poor and unkempt appearance. I loved her. My heart went out to her and felt close to her. She felt like a sister, a friend. I could relate to her. How poor we all are before our Lord. She is the poor Jesus right in front of me. And I am the poor Jesus. He is in her. He is in me. We are so in need of You, Lord, our Savior.
You who emptied yourself to our likeness, so that we may receive Your glory and love and beauty and mercy. It is too much to fathom. I just thank You.
Later that night, I had dinner at my nephew’s new apartment. He was sweetly proud to have his auntie over for a delicious meal, after which he served me tea with milk and honey. We sat on his new couch and he showed me his favorite artistic renderings of St. Mary Magdalene after Jesus ascended to the Father. It is said that she fled to the desert, where she waited with deep pining for her Lord. The images sunk deeply into my heart. Interiorly I felt the Lord knocking ever so gently. In the silence of my inner sanctuary, I said, “Yes, come in.”
As John Paul and I hugged goodnight, he said, “I have a Holy Spirit nudge to tell you that Jesus is thankful for your fiat; He is proud of your fiat.” My eyes filled with tears and I thanked him.
On the drive home, my heart was pierced with intense aching for Jesus. As tears ran down my cheeks, I cried: “I need You, Lord. I long for You. I love You. Please be with me. Be near to me, and I to You. I must console You. Please let me console You. I need You.”
“O God, you are my God, for you I long; for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water.” ~ Psalm 63:1
It was painfully, poignantly sweet. Jesus was very near and giving a new Grace into my heart, a deepening Grace, to love Him with new layers of my heart peeled back and poured into, with sweet drips of purifying honey. I have not experienced anything like this in years. It was sorely needed, and it was all a gift. I did nothing to deserve it or earn it. I did not make it happen with striving. It was gently offered and received with a simple silent yes – that too, a total Grace.
He wasted no time to pour in milk and honey and to give a stir. Mary, the Mediatrix of All Graces. And what Grace does she give us? The Grace to ache for her Suffering Son, the need to be near Him and to console Him.
Immaculate Heart of Mary, love and console your sweet Son through our poor hearts. We give you our little yes. Multiply it in your perfect fiat, that we may be one.
Copyright, 2020 Marian West Veilleux