Keen Pleasure of Recognizing Christ

Divine Appeal Reflection  - 134

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 134: "I give you a very keen pleasure in which you recognise Me and this fills you with joy to serve Me and bring Me souls. "

There exists a mysterious joy known only to souls who begin to perceive the hidden movements of grace. When Our Adorable Jesus speaks of granting a keen pleasure, He unveils a profound spiritual reality often misunderstood by the world. This joy is not mere emotional excitement, earthly success, or fleeting consolation; it is a sacred awakening whereby the soul quietly begins to taste divine nearness. Scripture (cf. Ps 16:11; Phil 4:4–7) repeatedly reveals that authentic spiritual delight arises from communion with God rather than external circumstances . Yet many fail to recognize this visitation because modern life trains hearts toward noise rather than recollection. A young professional who unexpectedly feels interior peace after Eucharistic adoration may dismiss it as mood. A mother exhausted by family burdens suddenly sensing consolation while praying the Rosary may fail to recognize grace touching her interior poverty. A seminarian overwhelmed by uncertainty may discover inexplicable joy while kneeling silently before the tabernacle. The Church (cf. CCC 2764, 2565; Ps 37:4) teaches that prayer slowly transforms human desire by conforming the soul to the very life of God . Such spiritual delight belongs not to sentimentality, but to recognition: the heart quietly awakening to divine nearness. St. Philip Neri understood holy joy as a gentle sign of friendship with God, where grace silently enlarges the soul’s capacity for love and freedom. In such moments, Heaven is not merely offering beautiful feelings, but extending a hidden invitation to recognize Our Adorable Jesus quietly present beneath ordinary life, daily duties, and unseen graces .

Yet the deeper mystery lies not merely in receiving spiritual consolation, but in recognizing the Giver hidden within it. Many souls experience grace without perceiving its source: peace without recognizing Christ’s nearness, strength without noticing His support, or unexpected hope without seeing the quiet action of divine mercy (cf. Lk 24:13–32). Our Adorable Jesus often walks silently beside the soul long before the soul fully recognizes Him, gently awakening the heart to a Presence already at work (cf. Jn 14:180). Scripture repeatedly reveals holy persons learning slowly to discern divine presence. Samuel (cf. 1 Sam 3:1–10) initially failed to recognize the voice calling him in the silence of night until spiritual guidance awakened discernment . Mary Magdalene stood near resurrection glory without immediate recognition because grief clouded spiritual sight (cf. Jn 20:11–18). Our Adorable Jesus reveals here that spiritual joy becomes a form of recognition—a divine fingerprint upon the soul. The Catechism (cf. CCC 153, 2700–2704) teaches that faith often matures through interior movements drawing the soul toward deeper communion . Yet discernment requires humility because false consolations also exist. A businessperson may confuse ambition with vocation. A ministry worker may mistake public praise for grace. A religious may cling to emotional comfort rather than God Himself. St. Ignatius of Loyola reflected deeply on discerning spiritual movements, teaching that authentic consolation gently leads the soul toward humility, deeper prayer, greater charity, and generous self-giving . Thus, when holy joy increases compassion, Eucharistic longing, patience, mercy, confession, and desire for holiness, the soul slowly begins to recognize the quiet footsteps of Our Adorable Jesus within ordinary life. Such recognition matures through silence, spiritual discipline, Sacred Scripture, and faithful perseverance in the sacramental life .

Once Christ is recognized more deeply, joy naturally transforms into loving service. Spiritual delight detached from mission becomes spiritual immaturity. The soul touched by divine nearness begins to desire not merely personal consolation but greater fidelity. Scripture repeatedly reveals that encounter produces apostolic response. Isaiah encountered divine holiness and immediately became willing to serve despite weakness (cf. Is 6:1–8). Zacchaeus experienced transforming encounter that changed relationships, priorities, and justice (cf. Lk 19:1–10). The Catechism (cf. CCC 1816, 2013) teaches that union with Christ necessarily opens the heart toward service and charity . Thus joy becomes fruitful when it matures into sacrifice. A teacher preparing lessons patiently for difficult students out of love for Christ sanctifies hidden labour. A doctor treating forgotten patients with tenderness ministers to Christ concealed in suffering humanity. A youth resisting peer pressure to remain morally faithful silently evangelizes companions. A parent praying for children despite exhaustion becomes apostle through endurance. St. Frances Xavier Cabrini transformed spiritual love into courageous action despite exhaustion and rejection. The soul that truly encounters Our Adorable Jesus slowly discovers an interior urgency: love desires expression. Prayer becomes service, suffering becomes offering, and ordinary duties become apostolic participation in Christ’s mission.

Yet one of the deepest signs of authentic divine joy is the desire to bring souls closer to God. The heart touched by grace cannot remain spiritually self-enclosed. This apostolic hunger belongs to the very Heart of Christ, who longs for humanity’s salvation (cf. Jn 17:20–23; 1 Tim 2:3–4). Scripture repeatedly reveals transformed souls becoming instruments of mercy. Andrew the Apostle immediately brought others after personal encounter (cf. Jn 1:40–42). The Samaritan Woman carried her experience into ordinary life, quietly awakening faith in others (cf. Jn 4:28–30). The Catechism teaches that every baptized soul shares responsibility in Christ’s evangelizing mission according to vocation (cf. CCC 849–856, 905). Yet bringing souls rarely means dramatic preaching alone. A grandmother praying daily for grandchildren. A public transport conductor acting honestly and kindly. A student refusing gossip and offering encouragement to lonely classmates. A religious sister smiling with patience toward difficult persons. A businessman refusing corruption while remaining compassionate. These hidden fidelities preach silently. St. Madeleine Sophie Barat believed transformed hearts influence countless others through quiet holiness. Souls are often drawn toward God not first through arguments, but through encountering peace, integrity, purity, mercy, and quiet joy radiating from lives deeply united to Him . A life transformed by grace becomes its own testimony, for holiness often speaks most powerfully through patience, humility, compassion, and faithful love lived consistently in ordinary circumstances .

Beneath the hidden movements of grace unfolds a sacred rhythm by which Our Adorable Jesus gently forms disciples: joy awakens recognition, recognition deepens trust, trust matures into service, (cf. Jn 15:5, 9–17) and service quietly blossoms into apostolic love . What begins as a personal encounter with divine goodness gradually expands outward, until the soul no longer lives only for itself but becomes a quiet instrument through which Christ continues loving, healing, and drawing others to Himself . Our Adorable Jesus grants holy joy not for spiritual selfishness but for mission. The Catechism (cf. CCC 1, 759, 2603) reminds souls that the Christian vocation ultimately participates in God’s plan of communion and salvation . St. Elizabeth Ann Seton discovered profound trials could coexist with divine joy when suffering became united to Christ. Thus, every vocation becomes fertile ground for holiness. A mechanic offering frustrations patiently. A priest remaining available despite fatigue. A widow transforming loneliness into intercession. A student intern persevering in prayer amidst distractions. A mother carrying hidden worries while remaining gentle. A farmer blessing labour before sunrise. These become living witnesses that divine joy survives suffering. Our Adorable Jesus seeks contemplative souls who recognize Him in silence, love Him through fidelity, serve Him within ordinary responsibilities, and quietly draw others toward His Eucharistic Heart (cf. Jn 15:4–5; CCC 2715). The deepest joy of the spiritual life is not merely feeling close to God, but becoming quietly available to His saving work: allowing His mercy to flow through hidden sacrifices, faithful duties, patient love, and persevering prayer . In this way, even ordinary lives become silent instruments through which Christ continues loving the world.

Prayer 

Our Adorable Jesus, fill us with joy in Your constant presence. Cleanse our hearts from distraction and sin. Transform our daily work into prayer, and our struggles into offerings of love. Lead us in faithful service and tireless labour for souls entrusted to our care. Amen.

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.

Jesus’ Delight in the Prayerful Effort of the Will

Divine Appeal Reflection  - 134

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 134: "Do not be tired of praying. The effort of your will is My delight." 

Prayer often becomes most difficult not during dramatic collapse, but when quiet weariness settles into the soul. Spiritual fatigue is among the enemy’s most subtle temptations because it disguises itself as reasonableness, quietly asking whether prayer still matters, whether Heaven still listens, or whether repeated petitions are useless (cf. Lk 18:1–8; Gal 6:9). A mother praying for a child trapped in destructive choices may grow weary after years without visible change. A priest carrying hidden discouragement may struggle to pray with fervor after pouring himself out for others. Yet Scripture (cf. Isa 40:31; Rom 12:12) repeatedly urges perseverance, for God often works silently beneath what appears unchanged . Our Adorable Jesus calls souls not to immediate results, but to faithful endurance in love, trusting that no sincere prayer is ever unheard before Heaven . A student overwhelmed by failure quietly abandons prayer because silence feels empty. Yet Our Adorable Jesus unveils a profound mystery: perseverance itself delights His Heart. Scripture repeatedly reveals that holy endurance in prayer possesses immense spiritual significance. The widow who persistently sought justice symbolizes the soul called to steadfast trust despite delay (cf. Lk 18:1–8). The psalmists (cf. Ps 13; Ps 42) repeatedly prayed through exhaustion, confusion, and sorrow without abandoning hope . The Catechism (cf. CCC 2725–2745) teaches that prayer becomes spiritual battle precisely because distractions, dryness, and discouragement tempt souls toward abandonment . Saint Jane Frances de Chantal understood that fidelity in prayer during dryness may please God more deeply than moments filled with consolation, because love remains faithful even when feelings fade . Our Adorable Jesus therefore calls souls not to emotional perfection, but to persevering love. A tired worker whispering the Rosary while commuting, a grandmother praying through physical pain, or a nurse quietly invoking mercy between patients may be offering prayers far more beautiful before Heaven than they realize .

The mystery of human will occupies a sacred place in Catholic spirituality because love cannot be forced. God desires freely given hearts, not mechanical devotion. Thus, when prayer becomes difficult and the soul still chooses to turn toward Heaven, something profoundly beautiful unfolds. The effort of the will becomes hidden love. Scripture repeatedly reveals God delighting in persevering fidelity. Hannah continued praying through sorrow and misunderstanding before receiving consolation (cf. 1 Sam 1:9–20). Jacob (cf. Gen 32:22–32) struggled through the night and emerged transformed through perseverance . Even Our Adorable Jesus in His humanity revealed persevering surrender through agony and interior heaviness (cf. Mt 26:36–46). The Catechism (cf. CCC 2559, 2565, 2730) teaches that authentic prayer demands vigilance, humility, perseverance, and conversion of heart . Many souls mistakenly believe prayer matters only when emotions cooperate, yet Heaven sees deeper. A businessman distracted by financial pressure who still kneels briefly before work offers hidden fidelity. A religious experiencing rejection but remaining before the Blessed Sacrament offers silent trust. A university student choosing ten minutes of prayer despite exhaustion participates in a love greater than feelings. St. Claude de la Colombière perceived that trust pleases God most profoundly precisely when certainty feels absent. The soul that continues praying despite emptiness quietly proclaims: “You are worthy even when I feel nothing.”

Deeper wounds like as disappointment, unfulfilled dreams, unanswered prayers, grief, loneliness, concealed failings, or quiet shame are frequently concealed beneath the surface of spiritual fatigue. Many souls do not stop praying because they reject God, but because they secretly fear further disappointment or wonder whether Heaven still listens . Yet Sacred Scripture repeatedly reveals that God often works most deeply during seasons that appear spiritually barren. Joseph endured years of obscurity before fulfillment (cf. Gen 37–50), Hannah prayed through sorrow before receiving consolation (cf. 1 Sam 1:9–20), and even the disciples (cf. Lk 24:13–35) experienced confusion before resurrection light emerged . Our Adorable Jesus therefore invites weary souls not to abandon prayer, but to trust that hidden grace is often unfolding beneath visible silence . Elijah (cf. 1 Kgs 19:1–18) collapsed beneath discouragement and exhaustion before rediscovering God’s nearness in hidden silence . Anna the Prophetess (cf. Lk 2:36–38) persevered for decades in prayer before witnessing divine fulfilment . The Catechism (cf. CCC 2734–2737) reminds souls that apparent unanswered prayer often purifies desire, expands trust, and deepens surrender . Our Adorable Jesus therefore invites souls into a contemplative realism: prayer is not transaction but relationship . A father praying for reconciliation after years of family tension may not immediately see healing, yet grace quietly works beneath visible silence. A person carrying anxiety may sit before the tabernacle unable to speak, yet their silent presence itself becomes prayer before God . A catechist discouraged by indifference may continue interceding faithfully and later discover hidden fruits known only to Heaven . St. Mariam Baouardy perceived that humble souls who persevere in hiddenness often receive graces far beyond their awareness. Heaven, therefore, does not measure prayer by human urgency or visible results, but by fidelity, love, and trust that endure quietly beneath silence .

At a mystical level, prayer is not merely something we do; it is participation in the very longing of Christ for souls. The effort of the will becomes a hidden cooperation with divine mercy. Every Rosary prayed through tiredness, every Holy Hour made through dryness, every distracted prayer gently restarted forms part of Heaven’s invisible labour for humanity. Scripture reveals holy figures persevering amid delay. St. Monica endured years of tears before witnessing conversion. Job remained in dialogue with God amid suffering without abandoning relationship (cf. Job 1–2; 42:1–6). The Catechism (cf. CCC 2634–2636) teaches that intercession participates mysteriously in Christ’s saving mission . Thus prayer becomes profoundly apostolic. A mechanic praying for customers while repairing vehicles sanctifies hidden labour. A teacher offering frustrations for struggling students becomes intercessor. A youth resisting distraction during Mass gives witness to reverence. A mother praying quietly while preparing meals transforms ordinary duties into a silent Eucharistic offering . St. Giuseppe Moscati united demanding professional work with deep interior prayer, revealing that holiness flourishes not apart from ordinary responsibilities but within them. No sincere effort directed toward God is ever wasted; grace quietly multiplies hidden acts of fidelity in ways unseen by human eyes but fully known to Heaven .

Above all, Our Adorable Jesus invites souls to understand that perseverance in prayer becomes preparation for holiness itself. This is not the hour for spiritually passive hearts but for contemplative endurance. The world grows noisier, distractions stronger, fatigue heavier, yet prayer remains the place where divine strength silently enters weakness . Mary Magdalene (cf. Jn 20:1–18) remained near sorrow before encountering resurrection hope . St. Catherine Labouré embraced hidden fidelity before extraordinary mission unfolded. The Catechism (cf. CCC 2711, 2825) reminds souls that prayer transforms hearts by uniting them to God’s will . Therefore, no soul should despise small beginnings. Five faithful minutes before sleep. A whispered prayer during grief. Returning to confession after failure. Choosing prayer instead of endless distraction. Lighting a candle before the Blessed Sacrament after exhausting work becomes a quiet confession of love stronger than fatigue . Such humble acts delight Heaven because they reveal love persevering through weakness, where intention remains faithful even when strength is diminished. The saints consistently teach that holiness grows less through rare dramatic moments and more through repeated fidelity in small, hidden choices . Our Adorable Jesus does not seek perfect souls, but willing hearts—souls who continue to knock even when silence seems to answer, trusting that unseen grace is already at work within them .

Prayer

Our Adorable Jesus, strengthen our weary hearts when prayer feels difficult. Receive every fragile effort of our will as love. Teach us steadfast fidelity in dryness, silence, and waiting. Kindle perseverance within us, that through hidden prayer we may help rescue souls for eternity. Amen

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.

Divine Appeal 134

ON THE EUCHARIST:A DIVINE APPEAL

(Revelation to Sr Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist)

VOLUME 1

“I stoop down to your level so that you may not be overpowered by My immensity.”

“My daughter, listen to Me and watch with Me in this difficult and terrible hour. Look at Me and give me the oblation of yourself. Do not be afraid. I beg you to serve My cause. I am always thirsting for souls; you always say to yourself it is hard to satisfy Him. I am waiting for souls in each and every moment.

Do not be tired of praying. The effort of your will is My delight. I want you to grow and have your being in Me for the good of souls. In the Sacrament of My Love I allow you to enter into My distress.
Pray a great deal and bring Me souls I love so much. I need your desire for reparation and company. In the Sacrament of My Love I want you to see the way to console Me. I give you a very keen pleasure in which you recognise Me and this fills you with joy to serve Me and bring Me souls. I stoop down to your level so that you may not be overpowered by My immensity.”

I do not wish anyone to perish. Bending over the earth I shed My tears of blood over mankind. Day and night souls are falling into perdition and they are eternally lost.

What more could I have suffered for mankind. It was My great love for mankind that went out to meet all the torture. I paid for the right to have the whole of mankind saved. What a pain to me My own... keep Me thirsty always! Those consecrated to Me! Pray a great deal. It is time to save souls.”

“I give My blessing.”

26th April 1988

Copyright © 2015 Bishop Cornelius K. Arap Korir, Catholic Diocese of Eldoret, Kenya.  All rights reserved. Reproduced from ON THE EUCHARIST: A DIVINE APPEAL, Volume I by www.adivineappeal.com.

Preciousness of Time in Saving Souls

 Divine Appeal Reflection  - 133

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 133: "Bring Me souls. Do not waste any of these precious times. Time is short for saving souls. I want souls to know My clemency"

Within the quiet trembling of ordinary life, where eternity silently touches every passing moment, Christ reveals time not merely as hours passing but as a sacred place where grace continually waits. “Do not waste these precious times” is more than moral advice—it is a call to awaken spiritually. Scripture reminds us that God stands beyond change while human life passes quickly like a shadow (cf. Jas 1:17; Ps 90:12). Yet Our Adorable Jesus entered time itself to redeem it, transforming ordinary moments into places of encounter . Time is no longer merely the slow passing of days toward death; it becomes the sacred workshop where the soul is quietly formed in fidelity, humility, and communion with God . Each ordinary hour carries hidden invitations: patience learned through interruption, trust deepened through uncertainty, surrender born through waiting. Like Israel in the wilderness, the soul is often shaped not in extraordinary moments but through daily dependence upon God .  A quiet urge to pray is postponed again because the day feels busy. Forgiveness is delayed because pain still feels fresh. Someone senses the need to call a lonely relative yet says, “I will do it later.” These seem like ordinary moments, yet spiritually they carry hidden weight (cf. Eph 5:15–16). Grace often arrives unnoticed. St. Seraphim of Sarov lived as though every encounter carried eternity, greeting others with reverence because Christ could be met in each person . Like Mary choosing attentiveness over distraction at Bethany (cf. Lk 10:41–42), souls slowly learn that time is not simply something we possess—it is what we are becoming in God’s presence.

From the silent depths where God holds all time within His eternal gaze, the soul slowly begins to understand that every passing second carries spiritual weight that can never be repeated. Christ’s urgency—“Bring Me souls”—reveals that time is not neutral, empty, or accidental, but filled with salvific possibility. Each moment quietly leans toward love or refusal, grace or delay, surrender or resistance (cf. Deut 30:19–20). The Church teaches that human choices made within time carry eternal consequences because earthly life is the place where the soul freely responds to God (cf. CCC 1021–1022). Yet this truth is not meant to create fear, but holy attentiveness. Time becomes sacred because eternity already presses gently through it. Scripture repeatedly shows how salvation unfolds through seemingly small moments. A single “yes” from Mary altered history (cf. Lk 1:38; CCC 494). Peter’s brief tears after denying Christ became the doorway to restoration (cf. Lk 22:61–62). The good thief, in only a few final moments, turned toward mercy and encountered paradise (cf. Lk 23:42–43). Even Christ before Pilate, (cf. Jn 19:10–11) outwardly powerless yet inwardly sovereign, reveals that eternity governs history even when injustice appears victorious . Time, then, is not simply passing—it is continually becoming a place where grace asks for response. In deeply human ways, this becomes startlingly practical. A worker pauses before replying harshly and instead chooses patience; in that hidden second, something eternal quietly shifts (cf. Prov 15:1). A parent overwhelmed by anxiety pauses to whisper, “Jesus, help me,” and that interruption becomes an opening for grace. A novice tempted to dishonesty quietly chooses integrity though no one would know otherwise . A spouse decides to begin reconciliation despite wounded pride. A tired commuter feels prompted to pray for a stranger instead of remaining absorbed in frustration. These moments seem small before the world, yet spiritually they become sacred thresholds where eternity quietly touches ordinary life .  Thus, time is not merely something we spend; it becomes the altar upon which life is quietly offered to God. Every moment surrendered in love becomes a seed eternity never forgets .

In the hidden interior of the soul—where memories ache, worries multiply, and attention easily scatters—time becomes more than passing hours; it becomes a spiritual struggle over presence. Christ’s appeal reveals a startling truth: souls are often not lost only through obvious sin, but through slow dispersion of the heart. Scripture (cf. Lk 21:34) warns against hearts weighed down by distraction, anxiety, and spiritual forgetfulness . A person may sincerely love God and yet live inwardly fragmented—physically present, spiritually elsewhere. The Church (cf. CCC 1731–1734) teaches that freedom unfolds through daily choices made in time, where the soul either grows toward grace or slowly drifts through neglect . Thus, attention itself becomes sacred because where attention rests, the heart quietly follows (cf. Mt 6:21). This battle feels deeply human in ordinary life. A choir member opens a Bible to pray but reaches for a phone after two minutes. A parent sits with family but inwardly carries endless worry about finances and tomorrow. A worker spends the day replaying old wounds, unable to remain present to grace unfolding now. Someone kneels before the Blessed Sacrament but remains mentally trapped between regret over yesterday and fear of the future . Anxiety multiplies imagined outcomes; regret repeats old failures. The soul becomes dispersed across timelines, stretched between memory and anticipation, forgetting that God meets us in the present moment. Even Martha, (cf. Lk 10:41–42) though loving Jesus deeply, became inwardly overwhelmed by many concerns while Mary remained attentive to presence . St. Anthony the Great entered the desert not to escape life, but to reclaim attention for God. St. Benedict of Nursia sanctified time through ordered prayer because unguarded hours quietly shape the soul. St. Teresa of Ávila taught recollection as gently gathering scattered thoughts back into God’s presence . Christ does not wait in imagined futures or imprisoned memories—He waits in the surrendered now. Thus, to waste time is not merely to lose minutes; it is to overlook the present moment where grace quietly knocks and Our Adorable Jesus patiently waits .

At the meeting point where human action touches divine urgency, time becomes missionary fire, and every passing second carries the possibility of eternal consequence for another soul. Christ’s appeal—“Bring Me souls”—reveals that time is not merely personal possession but apostolic responsibility. The Church (cf. CCC 849–851) teaches that she exists to continue Christ’s saving mission through history , meaning every ordinary moment can quietly participate in salvation. Time becomes missionary space: not neutral, but alive with hidden opportunities for grace. Our Adorable Jesus reveals that evangelization often begins not in grand gestures, (cf. Mt 28:19–20) but in unnoticed fidelity to love . Scripture (cf. Jn 4:4) repeatedly reveals how salvation unfolds through timely encounters. Jesus “had to pass through Samaria” , suggesting that divine providence arranges moments long before we recognize them. One conversation beside a well changed an entire village (cf. Jn 4:28–30, 39). Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian official occurred on an ordinary road yet opened faith to new lands (cf. Acts 8:26–39). St. Paul (cf. 2 Tim 4:6–8) lived with profound urgency, seeing life itself as an offering poured out for souls . He understood that delay could mean missed grace, and that every moment mattered because eternity quietly pressed against time. In deeply human ways, this missionary urgency unfolds daily. A teacher notices a struggling student and offers unexpected encouragement. A worker chooses patience instead of harshness with a discouraged colleague. A parent pauses exhaustion to pray briefly with a child before sleep . Someone quietly sends a message to a grieving friend instead of assuming others will help.  These actions appear small, yet spiritually they become openings where God quietly enters another person’s darkness . Souls are often reached not through dramatic preaching, but through hidden attentiveness. St. Francis Xavier carried deep sorrow that time was too short to reach every soul longing for Christ. St. Damien of Molokai transformed ordinary hours among the abandoned sick into living acts of salvation. Mother Teresa treated each dying person as a sacred encounter before eternity, refusing to let anyone feel forgotten. Even Christ Himself wasted no encounter: Zacchaeus in a tree (cf. Lk 19:1–10), the thief on the Cross (cf. Lk 23:39–43), (cf. Lk 7:11–15) the widow in grief . Every interruption became mission. Thus, time is not simply something we spend for ourselves—it is borrowed eternity entrusted for others. What seems like an ordinary moment may become the exact hour where another soul quietly meets Christ.

At the quiet horizon where time opens into eternity, the soul slowly realizes that nothing lived in love is ever lost before God. Christ’s appeal becomes not condemnation, but tender awakening: do not delay love, do not postpone grace, do not waste what can never return. The Church (cf. CCC 1021–1022; Heb 9:27) teaches that earthly life is the time of decision, where the soul freely responds to God before entering eternity . Yet eternity is not only future—it already touches the present moment. Scripture (cf. 2 Cor 6:2) reminds us that now is the favorable time, now the day of salvation . Every ordinary moment quietly carries eternal weight. St. Augustine of Hippo reflected that the present moment is where the soul encounters eternity, because God is always met in the now rather than in imagined futures or imprisoned regrets . This becomes deeply human in daily life. Reconciliation delayed after an argument hardens wounds. Prayer endlessly postponed slowly becomes spiritual distance. A quiet prompting to call someone lonely is ignored until the opportunity disappears. A parent assumes there will always be more time with children; a friend delays kindness assuming tomorrow is guaranteed (cf. Jas 4:13–14). Yet love is fragile because time is fragile. Every moment asks gently: Will love be chosen now? St. Ignatius of Loyola encouraged living with the clarity that each choice could be one’s last—not from fear, but from freedom and truth. The good thief, (cf. Lk 23:42–43)in his final moments, turned toward Christ and found paradise through surrendered trust , revealing that no soul is beyond mercy while time remains. St. Faustina Kowalska saw earthly life as the field of Divine Mercy where trust transforms ordinary moments into grace. St. Louis de Montfort taught that time consecrated to God becomes eternally fruitful . Thus, time is not merely passing away—it is approaching revelation. Every second quietly becomes either love embodied or love postponed .

Prayer

Our Adorable Jesus, we offer You our time as a living sacrifice . Bless our work, rest, and prayer so nothing is wasted. Help us sanctify every ordinary moment like the saints who lived hidden holiness , transforming time into eternal love. Amen.

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.

Divine Appeal 133

ON THE EUCHARIST:A DIVINE APPEAL

(Revelation to Sr Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist)

VOLUME 1

“Innumerable number of souls are on the way to perdition.”

“My daughter, spend with Me this great hour. Watch and pray. Bring Me souls. Do not waste any of these precious times. Time is short for saving souls. I want souls to know My clemency. I do not want anyone to perish. My Divine Mercy is followed by My Divine Justice. In the Sacrament of My Love I am so much abused and blasphemed. My own... are in tranquillity and are worriless. They step on Me and allow everything. My flock is about to be dispersed. I am thirsting for souls.

Innumerable number of souls are on the way to perdition. I am in agony over souls. Pray and atone. If a soul is lost it goes for ever. What more could I have suffered for mankind! In the Sacrament of My Love you are a victim. Quench My thirst.

Pray a great deal. The world is a swampland and muck and mire. Time is approaching when it will be in the mercy of the most severe trials of Divine Justice. With tears in My Heart, I am calling before it is too late. I give the warning from My Divine Mercy. Pray a great deal and cloister souls in your heart. When I save a soul I save it forever. Do not be afraid. I give you the strength to pray and bring  Me souls. I will never ask you for something unbearable.”

“I bless you.”

25th April 1988

Copyright © 2015 Bishop Cornelius K. Arap Korir, Catholic Diocese of Eldoret, Kenya.  All rights reserved. Reproduced from ON THE EUCHARIST: A DIVINE APPEAL, Volume I by www.adivineappeal.com.