Jesus says:
“The Father is looking at you. As a little bird remains warm and safe under the watchful care of its parents, so remain under the eye of God, who looks at you with love.
“The Eternal God, our Father, remains upon you. See and feel this power spreading over you from the summit of the heavens, this laughter filling you with supernatural joy, this light warming you and leading you. You need to see it with the mind’s eye so as to be able to make it your bread today.
“Other food will be given to you. And quite bitter. But this will so nourish your spirit as to make that bitterness unable to kill.”
While I was correcting the typewritten sheets, I suddenly received this communication. I got it in the moments when I was reading pages which were anything but joyful or personal. They were dictations of general and tremendous severity. And at the same time I received the intellectual vision of the “love of the Father.”
I say “love of the Father” because I could not say I have seen the Eternal Father just as I see the Son: humanly. But I really did see Him. And if, when speaking at a certain point of Mary Most Holy,248 I said I saw the spiritualized body of Mary as an emanation of light in the light, yet still in the form of a body, I could now say I have seen an immense Light, of incomparable joy, from which there shone forth an idea of a face. I say “idea” because it was as if the immense light were concealing it with layers and layers of splendor so as to make me able to see it with my poor human eye.
A face leaning over me and two arms extended as if to protect me and embrace me. Nothing else. What I - glimpsed was of incomparable beauty. The living gaze of a perennial youthfulness, also infused with the dignity of mature age and the goodness of the look of an old man. The visage was equally majestic, but without signs of old age or excessive youth. A face perfect in age and form.
Poor words of mine, how much pity you arouse in me over your insufficiency in describing!
Moreover, what is absolutely indescribable is what my Jesus calls “the laughter” of the Father. It is an act without a voice, but possessing in itself all the most comforting words. And I, just like a little bird until that moment trembling with loneliness and fear, with cold and faintness, feel myself being penetrated, warmed, and made safe by it.
Blessed be the Most High, who allows me to comprehend his most holy paternity towards a poor creature like me.
248 In the text of September 12.