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If you want your dream to be, build it slow and surely. Small beginning, greater and heartfelt work grows purely.

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Welcome. This is David Russell and Your Faith Anew. Daily Reflections guiding you to live in the divine will. Today's reflection is from the Book of Heaven by the servant of God Louisa Picaretta, march twenty first, nineteen thirteen, volume eleven. Let us begin in the will and name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Heavenly Father, in your divine will you have given us the greatest gift, the grace to live not by our own will, but in union with yours. Through Jesus, teach us the beauty of abandonment, that we may console his heart and participate in his divine life. Empty us of all that is human, and fill us with your divine love, so that we may become instruments of peace and reparation in these times. Amen. A verse from Galatians chapter two, verse twenty speaks clearly of life in the divine will. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches in paragraph three hundred seven. To human beings, God even gives the power of freely sharing in his providence by entrusting them with the responsibility of subduing the earth and having dominion over it. God thus enables men to be intelligent and free causes in order to complete the work of creation, to perfect its harmony for their own good and that of their neighbors. Though often unconscious collaborators with God's will, they can also enter deliberately into the divine plan by their actions, their prayers, and their sufferings. In today's passage, Louisa reveals a profound truth that total abandonment to the divine will does not merely unite us to Jesus, it consoles his very heart, purifies the soul through hidden trials, and transforms our nothingness into a living participation in God Himself. Louisa writes Continuing in my usual state, I was telling sweet Jesus to condescend to let me share in his pains. He told me My daughter, my will is the opium of the soul. My opium is the will of the soul abandoned in my will, united to pure love. This opium, which the soul gives to me, makes the thorns lose their capacity to prick me, the nails to pierce me, the wounds to give me pain. It soothes and puts everything to sleep. Therefore, if you have given me opium, how can you want me to let you share in my pains? If I don't have them for myself, neither do I have them for you. And I Jesus, how good you are to come up with this. It seems that you want to make fun of me coming up with these terms so as not to make me content. And he No, no, it's true. It's really like this. I need a lot of opium, and I want you completely abandoned in me so that you will no longer feel yourself. And so I will tell you that you are my soul, my flesh, my bones. During these times I need plenty of opium because if I wake up, I will pour down a deluge of chastisements. And he disappeared. He came back after a little while and added, My daughter, many times it happens to the souls the same as it happens in the air. The air is fattened by the stench which emanates from the earth, and one feels such a thick, heavy, oppressive, and nauseating air that winds are necessary in order to cleanse it. Then, after the air has been purified, the finest breeze blows, such that one would remain with his mouth open in order to breathe that purified air. All this happens in the souls. Many times satisfaction, self esteem, ego, and all that is human fatten the air of the soul, and I'm forced to send to this soul the wind of coldness, the wind of temptation, of aridity, of slander, so that these winds may cleanse the air of this soul, purify her, and bring her back to her nothingness. Nothingness opens the door to the all, to God, and the all makes many fragrant breezes blow, so that the soul, with her mouth open, may swallow that air, remaining sanctified by it. This passage reveals a profound mystery of the divine will, that our abandonment is not passive. It's deeply active in love, and it consoles the very heart of Jesus. Jesus uses an unusual image. The soul living in his will becomes like opium to him. This is not to dull him in a negative sense, but to soothe, to relieve, to console his suffering. When a soul is fully abandoned in the divine will, free from self, united to pure love, it participates in his divine operations. It becomes so united with him that his pains are soothed by the very presence of that soul living in him. This changes how we understand suffering. We often desire to share in Christ's suffering, and rightly so. But here, Jesus reveals something deeper. When we truly live in his will, we may actually console him so completely that his sufferings are lessened. Our role is not always to feel what he feels, but to love as he loves. Then Jesus gives another powerful image, the air of the soul. When the soul is filled with self, ego, satisfaction, self-esteem, it becomes heavy, suffocating. The divine cannot flow freely in such an atmosphere. So what does God do? In his mercy, he sends winds, coldness, aridity, temptations, even misunderstandings, and slander. These are not punishments, they are purifications. They strip away the human elements that cloud the soul. They bring the soul back to nothingness, which is not emptiness in despair, but openness to receive everything from God. And it is precisely in this nothingness that the all enters. When the soul is emptied of self, God fills it with his divine life. The air becomes pure, fragrant, and life-giving. The soul begins to breathe God Himself. This is the invitation. Not to resist the winds, but to allow them to purify us. Not to cling to our own sense of self, but to surrender into divine abandonment. Because in that abandonment, we become his consolation, his dwelling, his very life on earth. After all, it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. Let us pray. Jesus, my love, I abandon myself completely in your divine will. Take everything in me that is not you, every attachment, every ego, every hidden desire for self. Let your winds blow through my soul, even when they come as dryness, confusion, or suffering. Let me trust that you are purifying me. Empty me of myself so that I may be filled entirely with you. Let me become your consolation, a soul that soothes your wounds, a heart that lives not for itself, but for your divine delight. Breathe in me, O Lord, let me breathe your will, your love, your life. Make me nothing, so that you may be my all. Amen. Thank you for joining your faith anew today. May you embrace the gentle yet powerful work of the divine will in your life, especially in moments of purification. Trust that even the winds are signs of God's loving care, preparing your soul to receive his fullness. Until tomorrow, stay in his will, and your faith will be made anew.

SPEAKER_01 12:38

If you want your dream to be, build it slow and sure. Small beginning. Great and heart outward.