The Approach of My Angel (cont'd)

The Priest Condemns the Messages

I had been going regularly to the seminary to meet with the priest. One day he asked me to see this phenomenon when I was communicating with heaven, and when my communication started, he came over to me and touched my hand to see if he could stop me. He immediately felt a sort of tingling current penetrating into his arm. He did not tell me anything, but later on, since this electric feeling still was with him all afternoon, he went to tell another priest in the seminary what he experienced. The other priest knew about me. When he told him of the incident, he classified it as diabolical rather than Divine and asked him to bring me to him.

He sprinkled his room with holy water, the chair I was to sit on, the desk, the paper and the pencil he would let me use. I went there and he asked me to call "whatever" I was communicating with and ask "it" to write "Glory be to the Father, to the Son and to the Holy Spirit" I prayed and asked God to write this for me. And He did, but with such power that the pencil broke and I had to complete it with a pen. The priest was furious and also very frightened. He started to tell me all about Satanism, evil, magic, and dumb spirits and that the spirit I was communicating with was not Divine, but a dumb spirit. He filled my head with terror. When I got up to leave he said that I should not come anymore to the seminary and the church unless I stopped writing, at least for some time; and that I should also leave alone the other priest. He gave me three prayers to recite daily, (Saint Michael's, the Memorare of Saint Bernard, and a novena to the Sacred Heart of Jesus). He also gave me a rosary in my hand.

Shattered, I went to the first priest who, at least, was more gentle and I told him what happened. I said that he did not like me visiting him, and that these visits should stop. He looked down, bent his head on one side and did not answer. With this I knew he agreed. I clearly saw and understood that by not visiting him, he would be relieved instantly from a huge cross. I knew I was a persona non grata, so I got up and cried out to him: "You will never see me again in your premises, not until I feel welcomed!" And so I left, thinking I was leaving the Catholic premises for good.

I went back home and wept my eyes out. My angel came to console me, caressing my brow. I lamented to God, "I am confused and my soul is grieving beyond anyone's imagination. I do not know anymore. You say it is You and my heart feels and knows it is You, but he says it is the devil. If it is You, then I want this priest to say and admit one day that my communications are Divine, and I will believe! God simply said, "I will bend him...."

The angel was very tender with me. He dressed my spiritual wounds very gently. I prayed every day the prayers the priest gave me and did exactly what he asked me to do. I stopped using the charism God had given me and I avoided writing. Since I was living in a Moslem country, I bought a Koran to study and compare it with our Holy Bible. One day when I was taking notes, to my surprise our Heavenly Father approached me. His mere presence filled me with an inexplicable joy and He said to me: "I God love you, daughter, remember always this. Yahweh is My Name."

And while I was holding the pencil, He used my hand to write it on my notepaper. A little later on, He descended near me and again He came and said, while using my hand: "I God love you. Vassula, remember always this. I it is who am guiding you. Yahweh is My Name." This was so touching that I broke into tears. I was like a prisoner, forbidden to talk to my Father, forbidden to have any sort of communications with heaven, forbidden to use the charism that God Himself had given me, and forbidden to use this way to approach My Father in heaven. In all these prohibitions, who comes to visit me in "prison"? The One who loves me most! The most Tender Father, the One who holds the whole universe in the palm of His Hand, to show me His affection and His love.