I am not worthy of even being in existence, as such a vile creature is not worthy of being in you. But, oh God, Lord King of Hosts, however terrible your Justice is, your Mercy give you more glory. And so since all eternity, you had your burning desire to create that perfect mirror of your Mercy. And even more, you wanted to come and become like us, as to demonstrate your infinite love. Your Son, died and rose, giving Him in more ways, the rights of conquest, for He defeated Death and more. But, this make our sins so much worst. How after having such a great Redemption, so painful and costly, could we again crucify you?
Your Mercy and Justice are one, and Justice must be done. Your fury is ready to engulf this world of sin. You sent your Mother in Fatima to warn us, yet we sin with greater evil. In my digust with my very self I call for your Justice, albeit I am crushed in it.
But I still know that you wish my salvation. That even your Justice is the other side of your Mercy, as even bringing death to an unconverting soul saves it from greater punishments of Hell. So, unworthy as I am, I dare not look at you and fall before your feet, but rather to Her who is the perfect mirror of your Mercy.
Oh Mother, am I no longer your son? Can I rip the effects of the baptismal waters? Is my sin so great it towers over your mercy?
No, it can’t. Not even the angels can measure it. So, since I dear not present myself before the Great Judge, I beg you to present me as your son. Your suplications are omnipotent. Ask and you shall receive. He who saw your tears at the Cross could not deny you anything. Could you bare to see me in that horrid prison called Hell? Could you bare to hate me, and I hate your Loving Son? Oh Mother, if I could at least still love you in Hell, it would not be so bad. If anything, don’t ever let me stop loving Him.
And thus, oh Mother! here is your son before you to present me to your Son. I have nothing to offer, my hands are not only empty but soiled in my iniquity. But your gaze is to pure to not infuse the purity I was baptized with and more. Your love is to great to not make this swamp a mirror of it. I am your slave, your son and soldier. I ran away from you, I disobeyed you, I rose against you.
But now I see, that your serene eyes are inescapable, and that your voice always rang in my heart, and that nothing I could do could repel your mercy if at the end a cry I made to you.