Divine Dictations to Maria Valtorta ( Notebooks) - Free ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read book online for free. Supernatural. edition will always be available at the following URL: Maria Valtorta Summa and Encyclopedia Readers' Group Ordering Catalog (PDF). If you live in another. Mostly the notebook written by Maria Valtorta concerns the life of Jesus: The It was 'revealed' to Maria Valtorta, called 'Little John', to place her close to.
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Topics Maria, Valtorta, Maria Valtorta, Poem, Man-God, Man, God, Catholic, Pope Francis, Pope, Mother Teresa, Padre Pio, Trinity, Truth, Life, Love, Divine, Bible, Gospels, Jesus, Mary, Christ, God, Holy Spirit, Holy, Peace. I was first introduced to this fascinating work ‘The. 1 Maria Valtorta THE GOSPEL AS REVEALED TO ME vol. The ten volumes of pdf work perfectly in my kindle voyage except volume 5 and 7. Maria Valtorta - The End Times - Download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online.
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It looked like a trunk that had just been planed, almost unhewn and rough. Half a meter above the ground, perhaps less, were two transfixed feet I saw those alone last night. Two tortured feet. And the fact that they had been harshly tortured was conveyed by their being contracted, with the toes nearly bent towards the soles, as with the spasms of tetanus.
Some blood, trickling along the heels, was falling onto the rough board and streaming Apr Like a Violet at the Foot of the Cross besides. That way not even a nod by my Redeemer will escape me Murray, p. Migliorini, whom the author addresses below and very frequently in her writings. Born in Volegno Lucca in , he entered the Order of the Servants of Mary in and was ordained a priest in Until he exercised his priestly ministry in Italy.
Then be was named a Pastor in Canada and later entered the missions in South Africa, where he became the regular superior and apostolic prefect. Returning to Italy in , he was the prior of the Convent of St. Andrew in Viareggio, where he devoted himself to an untiring apostolate, especially during and after the war. Around he went to visit the infirm Maria Valtorta and became her spiritual director and the witness to her writings, which he zealously typed up, attempting the first dissemination of them.
But in he had to withdraw to Rome, where he confided to his brother in religion Father Corrado M. Berti the existence of Maria Valtorta.
After increasing sufferings, he died in Carsoli L'Aquila in To every creature practicing self-immolation it is granted to save some souls. Some and it is not surprising that those granted to each little redeemer are few if it is remembered that I, the Divine Redeemer, on Calvary, in the hour of immolation, was able to save the thief, Longinus and very, very few others out of the thousands of persons present at my death A reflection on a discourse which is reported to me where it is stated that my prayers are relied on heavily [to obtain favors], for it has been recognized that what I have asked for has come true.
It doesn't cause me any pride, but a deeper gratitude to God, who is so good as to allow me to be able to obtain the happiness of other hearts. But to these hearts I want to say and I will say that it is not through my merit that this occurs.
All could arrive at the same capacity if they wanted to. There is no method or special study to arrive at this power of entreaty. What matters is to make one's heart a Bethlehem manger in which to receive the infant Jesus and make oneself a cross to bear Jesus the Redeemer.
When we bear Him that way indissolubly we become nothing but a complement to Him, and He alone is the real protagonist of all things. The secret to obtaining all the graces which our fellow man attributes to our nonexistent merits is exclusively this annihilation of ours in Christ, so complete as to dissolve our human personality and oblige Jesus to act alone in every event.
All we do is take to Him the voices of individuals joined to a kiss of love. He does the rest. Marta Diciotti, who lived with the writer for many years, states that it took place around midday on April 23, , Good Friday, and that Maria was left surprised, confided this fact to her, and asked her to go and bring Father Migliorini. Marta left the house, resorting to a ploy so as not to arouse the curiosity of Maria's mother, who was a very authoritarian woman and not inclined towards religious matters.
Father Migliorini came at once and remained in intimate conversation with the infirm writer. Neither the first nor the second lavacre has availed to make men sons and daughters of God. Now the Father is weary, and to make the human race perish He lets the punishments of hell be unleashed, for men have preferred hell to Heaven, and their dominator Lucifer tortures them to spur them to curse Us so as to render them his sons and daughters completely.
I would come a second time to die, to save them from an even more atrocious death But my Father does not allow me to My Love would permit it; Justice does not. It knows that it would be useless. I will thus come only at the final hour. But woe to those who will see me in that hour after having chosen Lucifer as their lord!
There will be no need for weapons in the hands of my angels to win the battle against the antichrists. My look will suffice. One of the things most leading me to reflect on my Jesus' doctrine of mercy is the Oh, if men even now were capable of turning to Me, who am salvation! I desire nothing episode to be read in the Gospel of St. John: Mary, weeping, remained outside near the but this and I weep because I see nothing is able to make them lift up their heads to tomb She suddenly turned around and saw Jesus standing upright And Jesus said Heaven, from which I am extending my arms towards them.
It is not certain that Jesus had already presented Himself to his Mother. Our hearts lead us to believe so, but none of the four Evangelists says so. Indisputable, however, is this appearance to Mary Magdalene. He appears for the first time and manifests Himself in his second role as the eternal God-Man to her, who personifies the boundless host of those redeemed by Christ's love. First he was the Man in whom a God was hidden. Before that, in the times of expectation, the Word was only God.
Now He is the GodMan taking our mortal flesh into the heavens. And this divine masterwork, by which the flesh born of woman becomes immortal and eternal, is revealed to a creature who was a sinner Not only this, but to her, precisely to her, He entrusts the message for His apostles themselves: Go to my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God. To Mary the sinner, even before the Father!
What a river of trust pours into me on considering this! How it should be told, retold, continually told to poor souls, wavering and ashamed because they know they have sinned, that Jesus loves them so much as to place them before the Father and his Mother. For I think that if He had not yet risen to the Father, in that first hour of resurrection He had not shown Himself to his Mother either.
At root it is a necessity of loving justice. Jesus came for sinners. Therefore, the first fruits of his resurrection should go to her who is at the head of the family of redeemed sinners.
To my brothers to my Father and yours my God and yours. These words ring out like as many joyous bells in my heart. Brothers are the disciples, and brothers and sisters are we who descend from them. If some doubt still remains in us, it now falls like the stone at the tomb, shaken by this whirlwind of love, and trust arises in the hearts most imprisoned and oppressed by the memory of their errors and by reflection on the immense distance separating us, who are dust, from God.
Jesus so states: we are brothers; we have a single Father and a single God with Christ. He grips us with his pierced hands it is the first gesture He makes after his death and hurls us upon the heart of God, in the heavens, no longer closed, but opened by love, so that the sweet tears of new reconciliation with our Father may be shed there. Glory be to You, Master and God, who save us with your pain and give us Love as the way of salvation!
So am I. Poor sons and daughters! The little ones whom I loved so and who must die like this! And I caressed them with the tenderness of a Father and God who sees in the child the masterpiece, not yet profaned, of his creation!
The children who die, slain by hatred and in the midst of a chorus of hatred. Oh, let fathers and mothers not profane the innocent holocaust of their clipped flowers with their imprecations! Let fathers and mothers know that not a tear of their children, not a moan of these immolated innocents remains unechoed in my Heart. Heaven opens to them, for they do not differ at all from their distant little brothers, killed by Herod out of hatred for Me. These, too, are killed by the sinister Herods, stewards of a power which I have given them so they would use it for good and for which they must give Me an accounting.
I would come for all. But especially for these, just born to life, a gift of God, and already uprooted from life by cruelty, a gift of the devil. You should know, however, that to wash away the contaminated blood which fouls the earth, which is shed with rancor and cursing, in rancor and cursing against Me, who am Love, this dew of innocent blood is needed, the only blood still able to flow forth without cursing, without hating, just as I, the Lamb, shed my blood for you.
The innocents are the little lambs of the new era, the only ones whose sacrifice, gathered in by the angels, is completely pleasing to my Father. Afterwards come the penitent. Only afterwards. For even the most perfect ones among them drag into their sacrifice the dross of human imperfections, hatreds, and acts of selfishness. The first in the ranks of the newly redeemed are the children, whose eyes close amidst horror in order to reopen upon my Heart in Heaven. First the violets.
My dear violets, which had all been uprooted by the overbearance of others and which have sprouted spontaneously, after over three years during which they were no longer to be seen in the flower boxes on the terrace. But as long as they are violets, there is not much to be surprised at, is there? The wind itself can bear the seeds; a little bird can drop them from its tiny beak But a lily!
The lily plant spreads only through bulbs, and a lily bulb is too large and heavy to be carried by the wind with its wings or a bird in its beak.
And yet it has sprouted in the flower box on the balcony. Jesus says: May Similarities among Souls Called by God miraculous about the sprouting of a lily in this way, and I see in this miracle an exquisite kindness and a gratifying response on the part of my Jesus.
He knows how I love the lilies and how I suffered on seeing them all pulled up from the flowerbed in my courtyard. He knows I love them as a flower and as a symbol and knows what fear and regret was in my heart at the thought that maybe my lily was no longer pure white and whole.
And He makes a lily arise from a bit of turf which is now barren, meager, hardened, and neglected. Gabriella I find expressions just like mine, even in the slightest turns of phrase. And this moves me deeply. I feel that where Jesus the absolute master of our self reigns, souls, like harps plucked by the same hand, make the same sound louder or softer according to their perfection, but also with the same notes.
Why should I doubt the origin of this flower? Can the Jesus 5 the snow for the day she took the habit not give Maria one flower of who gave Thrse 7 Her Belfanti relatives, the owners of hotels in Reggio Calabria. Giuseppe was a cousin of snow?
Woe betide us if a human hand should sever it! It would strike me Iside Fioravanzi, the writer's mother. Paola was the daughter of Giuseppe. Clotilde was the wife of one of Giuseppe's brothers. I also write this, which to some might seem a trifle, but which to me is quite profound. This, too, is a caress by my God, an act of kindness by Him, which confirms and validates the sweet feeling of last March 2, 6 a feeling I have experienced again, though more faintly, in the last few days.
What must you be like if just slightly brushing against you here is such bliss? I am weary and worn out, and my heart is anxious about so many things. The physical effort is nothing compared to the moral effort I must make to lift the veils beyond which the supernatural lies. For a number of reasons. I think of my relatives in Calabria I have written a great deal to them in recent days, openly speaking of God and the duties of a Christian in the face of death.
I think of Clotilde, paralyzed I think of Paola, of Giuseppe, with his odd theories. I think of The first is that I almost seem to be committing a profanation on making known God's them all. May the Hand that has sown lilies and secrets in me. And I always fear that this though not a profanation, of course proclamation may produce a punishment for me: that of being deprived of the divine violets for poor Maria descend upon those hearts and draw them to Itself We living beings are always a bit selfish.
And we do not The Trappist Abbess wrote to me, and I wrote back. I am happy to have prayed and to consider that what God grants us can give joy to others and that, as something pray in this way for the unity of the Churches. I did not know that there was prayer for belonging to God, the Father of all, it is not licit for us to be greedy and deprive our this. Jesus, my only Master, has guided me, as always, in this, too. Just as He has guid- brothers and sisters of it.
I have heard myself called a work of sanctification. I can state that I have never had occasion to seek to know a Life wherein I have failed The third reason is that I am afraid of these favors.
Afraid because I am always dreading to find a likeness to my own. A likeness which is much greater and more perfect, but that they may be a trick Can it be that I, a mere nothing, deserve these favors from which is still a likeness. I have read numberless Lives, but have myself bought the ones with points of contact with my paltry life, and from the effects they have on me my King?
And afraid that they will arouse pride in me. I feel that if I were to get proud while the others excite my sterile admiration, and nothing else I understand that I am about them, even for a second, they would cease at once and not just this, but I would be left without even that minimum of supernatural experience which is common to also on the same path though far behind of loving boldness, immolation, and trust.
As a punishment for my pride. Oh, I am quite sure that Jesus would punish me in that way! And now that I have told you the reasons why I am not fond of speaking, I will tell you the reasons why I feel I am not a dreamer taking the phantoms of delirium to be supernatural truths and demonic words to be divine words. I am sure because of the gentleness and the peace invading me after those words and those caresses, and because of the power assailing me, forcing me to listen to them and write them down, without being able to change a single word.
Along with the very gentle power by which I am forced to listen to them or write them and always at times far removed from any desire on my part to hear those things I beg you to believe that I do nothing to place myself in a, shall I say, receptive state I feel, according to the circumstance, a more intense power telling me, Make this known. Don't mention this other matter to anyone. And one cannot waver with this gentle overbearance But there is nothing belonging to me.
Even if I think and I am distressed at the thought , Jesus is silent. Oh, if only He would make Himself heard to console me a little! Only when He wants to, He lets Himself be heard; and then, even if I am occupied with something else, anything else which may be urgent for me to do, I must stop and devote myself to Him alone.
As when, in keeping with my style, I prefer one way of phrasing and seek to change it I cannot. It is stated that way and must remain that way. This morning, too, you asked me to write about past impressions.
I told you that I could not repeat those words exactly now and will thus not repeat them. There should be nothing there originating in me. But I can give you a short list of the points I have observed. However, whereas Jesus was always alive, Our Lady and the Saints were like statues or pictures figurations. Twice I saw only a Franciscan brother who was certainly a saint as a living person.
And one figure told me that, of all my maladies, the one I had there and he touched my lungs would kill me. I had this dream seven years ago, when there was nothing at all wrong with my lungs. Another time the same Franciscan brother who seemed to me to be neither St. Francis nor St. Anthony with a face of light said to me, You have merited more with this illness than a nun in a convent.
Every year of yours is worth as much as a lifetime in a convent. He answered me this way because I, seeing death lying in ambush for me, was fretting about having done so little The woman who was my Superior who died in would draw me away from death and hide me from it by saying, Go on living for a few more years, and I would then declare, But what am I doing?
If only I were a nun!
And it was at that point when the brother said those words to me. But I sometimes feel a kind of breeze blowing over my face and think it is my good angel refreshing me when I feel so low I cannot even fan myself.
In the summer of this sensation lasted for months the months I was in constant danger of death. With this out of the way, my angel is pretending to be dead. He who protected me so well when I was a wailing suckling in the red-hot furrows of Terra di Lavoro,10 who came to my aid in the syncope of January 4, , has never let himself be seen or heard openly, except for that occasion.
Unless it is he who has now planted the lily and the violets, 11 taking them from abundantly endowed gardens but who knows? On the other hand, I have seen and spoken while dreaming to Padre Pio of Pietralcina.
I saw him, also while dreaming, in ecstasy, after Holy Mass; I have seen his penetrating gaze and observed on my hand the scar of the stigmata when he took me by the hand. And, not dreaming, but wide awake, I have smelled his fragrance. No garden bursting with flowers in full bloom can give off the celestial scents which filled my room on the night between July 25 and 26, and the afternoon of September 21, , precisely when a friend of ours was speaking about me to Father I did not know that he had left for San Giovanni Rotondo I like the book and I do encourage my co-sisters to read it.
It brings you to conversion. Thank you because we have found the 3rd and the 4th volume in this site, I mean thru this library.
Thank you very much for your concern in sharing this books. We really wish to have these two volumes and now it is granted.
Thak you Lord! Reviewer: aMoofie - favoritefavoritefavoritefavoritefavorite - July 28, Subject: Unprecedented Expansion of the Gospel It's been an immense joy to have found these books. They have changed my life in ways I can't describe. I have read all of the volumes many, many times, and have read them out loud from beginning to end to my children.
I've also been fortunate enough to acquire copies of the Notebooks, and several other Valtorta books. The Lord also made it possible for me to help in the project a bit, because I was asked to translate Maria Valtorta's "Prayers" from French into English. Deo Gratias.
For those who don't know, there are quite a few more books circulating which have information not contained in Poem. A web search will help reveal what is available. Finally, for the nay-sayers - Maria Valtorta's cause has been accepted by the "Congregation for the Causes of Saints". Reviewer: ElizabethAnnVendal - favoritefavoritefavoritefavoritefavorite - May 9, Subject: Poem of the Man God I can't begin to say what these books have done for my spiritual growth.
The heart of the Law is in these books. And the way to freedom is in these books as are in our gospels. These books made me take a very hard look at myself and humbled me.
Mary's and Joseph's "yes" in the face of doubt. The humility of those entrusted with God made man is astounding. Humility vs. Conquering the very first sin. Exposing Love in it's truest form. Combating everything that modern society uses to allure the masses. Some of the lowest ratings will come from the theologians. My opinion is this: does it raise your spirit?
Does it humble you? Does it bring a desire in your heart to be a truer Christian? This book will do that for you. I can't give it five stars. I would give it Read it!
Live it! And love the Word of God! Reviewer: Guy Gruters - favoritefavoritefavoritefavoritefavorite - March 20, Subject: I have read all five volumes more than ten times I completely agree with the "Description.