Yesterday, I was on the phone with my sister discussing our Lenten journeys so far. I lamented the fact that I felt like I wasn’t doing much more than I usually do. I had planned to do the Consoling the Heart of Jesus retreat as a book discussion, but that didn’t happen. I then figured I could do it on my own, but that hasn’t happened so far, although I am working through the book very slowly. I said to her, “The only additional thing I’m doing is praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy more.” “Me, too,” she replied. I smiled knowing our union via this prayer.
This Lent, I try to pray it at least once a day and especially in the 3:00 hour. I figure if I can do it for Lent, I’m likely to continue afterwards. I’d really like to.
Last night, like so many other Wednesday nights, I went to adoration. As I knelt down before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Him. Our gazes met, our eyes and hearts intertwined. After some time, I started to pray the Chaplet. Towards the end, I was led to go to St. Faustina’s Diary, Divine Mercy in My Soul, entries 754-756. Now, when stuff like this happens to me, I always doubt it, kind of figuring that I’m making it up. But more and more as I yield to it, I see the hand of God.
So when I finished praying the Chaplet, I picked up the Diary and opened to entries 754-756. My eyes popped out of my head when they fell on the first words:
754 +The Lord’s Promise: The souls that say this chaplet will be embraced by My mercy during their lifetime and especially at the hour of their death.
I could have stopped right there, blown away by a very clear message to pray the Chaplet, but I was directed to read on.
755 O my Jesus, teach me to open the bosom of mercy and love to everyone who asks for it. Jesus, my Commander, teach me so that all my prayers and deeds may bear the seal of Your mercy.
756 November 18, 1936. Today, I tried to make all my exercises before Benediction, because I was feeling more ill than usual. So I went to bed directly after Benediction. But when I entered the bedroom, I suddenly knew interiorly that I should go to the cell of S.N.,  because she was in need of help. I entered her cell at once, and S.N. said to me, “Oh, how good it is that God has brought you here, Sister!” And her voice was so faint that I could hardly hear her. She said to me, “Sister, please bring me some tea with lemon, because I am terribly thirsty, and I cannot move because I am in such pain.” And truly, she was suffering very much and had a high fever. I made her more comfortable, and she was able to quench her thirst with the little bit of tea that I brought her. When I entered my own cell, my soul was engulfed by the great love of God, and I understood that we should take great heed of our interior inspirations and follow them faithfully, and that faithfulness to one grace draws down others.
The last sentence spoke to me. “… I understood that we should take great heed of our interior inspirations and follow them faithfully, and that faithfulness to one grace draws down others. “
Call me greedy, if you must, but I want all the grace I can get. And, if following “our interior inspirations” is the way to do accomplish it, then I’m on it!
One thing I’m trying to do more deliberately during this Lent is to be more docile to the Holy Spirit, really trying to discern God’s will for me for the day and for the moment. I have found great fruit in taking 10 minutes in the morning for mental prayer. Even though I find it difficult and full of distraction, by the time my 10 minutes is up, I know what God has in mind for me. I’ve had times of clear direction to pray for a particular person and times of direction to simply follow Him through the day so that He can lead.
The more I follow the easier it is to follow. The more I trust that these inspirations are from Him, the less I doubt. The less I doubt, the easier it is to follow…
So, today, I invite you to join me in praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy and in taking greater “heed of our interior inspirations” to draw grace upon grace.
My, Jesus, I trust in you. Anne