Continues to treat of her great illnesses, of the patience the Lord gave her, and of how He draws good out of evil, as is seen in something that happened to her in that place where she went for a cure.
IFORGOT TO TELL HOW in the novitiate year I suffered great uneasiness over things that in themselves were of little consequence. Often times I was accused about things without my being at fault. I bore this with a great deal of pain and imperfection; however, because of the deep happiness I felt in being a nun, all passed away. Since they saw me seek out solitude and saw me sometimes weep over my sins, they figured this was caused by discontent, and said so.
I was fond of everything about religious life, but I didn’t like to suffer anything that seemed to be scorn. I enjoyed being esteemed. I was meticulous about everything I did. It all seemed to me virtue, although this will be no reason for pardon, because I knew in everything what seeking my own happiness was, and thus ignorance is no excuse. The only real excuse could be that the convent was not founded on a strict observance. I, miserable creature that I was, followed after what I saw wrong and left aside the good.
2. There was a nun at that time afflicted with the most serious and painful illness, because there were some holes in her abdomen which caused obstructions in such a way that she had to eject through them what she ate. She soon died from this. I observed that all feared that affliction. As for myself, I envied her patience. I asked God that, dealing with me in like manner, He would give me the illnesses by which He would be served. It seemed to me that I feared nothing, for I was so set on gaining eternal goods that I determined to gain them by any means whatever. And I am amazed because I had not yet in my opinion any love of God as I did afterward, it seems to me, when I began to practice prayer. But I had the light that made everything coming to an end seem of little value to me, and it made those goods that can be gained by the love of God seem of great value since they are eternal.
So well did His Majesty hear my prayer that within two years I was so sick that, although this sickness was not the same as the nun’s, I don’t think it was any less painful or laborious during the three year period that it lasted, as I shall now tell.
3. When the time came for the cure to begin, for I had been waiting at my sister’s house, I was brought there1 with much solicitude for my comfort by my father and sister, and my friend, the nun,2 who had come with me, for she loved me very dearly. At this point the devil began to upset my soul, although God drew out very much good from this. There was a cleric of excellent intelligence and social status who lived in that place where I went to be cured. He was learned, although not greatly so. I began to confess to him, for I was always fond of learning. Half-learned confessors have done my soul great harm when I have been unable to find a confessor with as much learning as I like. I have come to see by experience that it is better, if they are virtuous and observant of holy customs, that they have little learning. For then they do not trust themselves without asking someone who knows, nor do I trust them; and a truly learned man has never misguided me. Those others certainly could not have wanted to mislead me, but they didn’t know any better. I thought that they really knew and that I was obliged to no more than to believe them, especially since what they told me was liberal and permissive. If it had been rigid, I am so wretched that I would have sought out others. What was venial sin they said was no sin at all, and what was serious mortal sin they said was venial. This did me so much harm that it should not surprise anyone that I speak of it here in order to warn others against so great an evil. I see clearly that in God’s eyes there is no excuse for me, for that the things by their nature were wrong should have been enough for me to have been on guard against them. It was on account of my sins, I believe, that God permitted these confessors to be mistaken themselves and to misguide me. And I misled many others by telling them what these confessors told me.
I went on in this blindness for I believe more than seventeen years until a Dominican father, a very learned man,3 enlightened me about many things. And the Jesuit fathers made me fear everything so much, by showing me how wrong those theories were, as I shall tell later.
4. When I began then to confess with this cleric4 I mentioned, it happened that he became extremely fond of me; for at that time even after I became a nun I had little to confess compared to what I had later on. His affection for me was not bad; but since it was too great, it came to no good. He had learned from me that I was determined not to do anything grave against God for any reason, and he also assured me of the same; and so we conversed a great deal. But I was so fascinated with God at that time that what pleased me most was to speak of the things of God. And since I was so young, it threw him into confusion to observe this; and by reason of the strong love he had for me, he began to explain to me about his bad moral state. This was no small matter, because for about seven years he had been living in a dangerous state on account of his affection and dealings with a woman in that same place; and, despite this, he was saying Mass. The association was so public that he had lost his honor and reputation, and no one dared to admonish him about this. To me it was a great pity for I loved him deeply. I was so frivolous and blind that it seemed to me a virtue to be grateful and loyal to anyone who loved me. Damned be such loyalty that goes against the law of God! This is the kind of nonsense that goes on in the world, which makes no sense to me: that we consider it a virtue not to break with a friendship, even if the latter go against God, whereas we are indebted to God for all the good that is done to us. Oh blindness of the world! You would have been served, Lord, if I had been most ungrateful to all that world and not the least bit ungrateful to You! But it has been just the reverse because of my sins.
5. I endeavored to get more information from other persons in his household. I learned more about his bad moral state and saw that the poor man was not so much at fault. For the unfortunate woman had put some charms in a little copper idol she asked him to wear around his neck out of love for her, and no one was influential enough to be able to take this away from him.
I do not believe with certainty that it is true that charms have this power. But I will mention this that I have seen so as to advise men to be on their guard with women who desire to carry on in this way. Men should believe that since these women have lost their shame before God (for women are obliged to modesty more than men), they can be trusted in nothing; for they will stop at nothing so as to hold on to this friendship and passion the devil has placed in them. Even though I have been so wretched, I have never fallen into anything of this sort, nor have I ever tried to do evil; nor, even if I could have, would I ever have desired to force anyone to love me, for the Lord has protected me from this. But if He should have let me, I would have done the evil that in everything else I did, for there is nothing trustworthy in me.
6. Once I knew about this charm, I began to show him more love. My intention was good; the deed bad. For in order to do good, no matter how great, one should not commit the slightest wrong. I used to speak with him very often about God. This must have profited him, although I rather believe that it prompted him to love me greatly. For in order to please me, he finally gave me the little idol, which I then threw in a river. Once he got rid of this, he began—like someone awaking from a deep sleep—to recall everything he had done during those years. And being frightened about himself and grieving over his bad moral state, he at last began to abhor the woman. Our Lady must have helped him greatly, for he was most devoted to her Immaculate Conception; and he celebrated this feast with great solemnity. Finally, he stopped seeing this woman entirely, and he never tired of thanking God for having given him light.
Exactly one year from the first day I met him, he died. He was very devoted to the service of God, for I never thought that the great affection he bore me was wrong, although it could have been more pure. But there were also occasions on which, if we had not remained very much in God’s presence, there would have been more serious offenses. As I said,5 once I understood a thing to be a mortal sin, I then avoided it; and it seems that his observing this in me helped him to love me. For I believe that all men must be more friendly toward women who they see are inclined toward virtue. And this is the means whereby women ought to gain more of what they are seeking from men, as I shall say later. I am certain that he is on the path of salvation. He died a very good death and completely detached from that occasion. It seems the Lord desired that by these means he would be saved.
7. With the severest afflictions, I spent three months in that place, for the cure was too harsh for my constitution. After two months, because of the potent medicines, my life was almost at an end. The severity of the heart pains, which I went to have cured, was more acute. For sometimes it seemed that sharp teeth were biting into me, so much so that it was feared I had rabies. With the continuous fever and the great lack of strength (for because of nausea I wasn’t able to eat anything, only drink), I was so shriveled and wasted away (because for almost a month they gave me a daily purge) that my nerves began to shrink causing such unbearable pains that I found no rest either by day or by night—a very deep sadness.
8. Seeing such poor results, my father brought me back to where doctors could come to see me. They all gave up hope for me, for they said that on top of all this sickness, I was also tubercular. I cared little about this diagnosis. The pains were what exhausted me, for they were like one continuous entity throughout my whole body, from head to foot. Pain of the nerves is unbearable, as doctors affirm, and since my nerves were all shrunken, certainly it was a bitter torment. How many merits could I have gained, were it not for my own fault!
I remained in this excruciating state no more than three months, for it seemed impossible to be able to suffer so many ills together. Now I am amazed; and I consider the patience His Majesty gave me a great favor from the Lord, for this patience was clearly seen to come from Him. It greatly profited me to have read the story of Job in St. Gregory’s Morals:6 For it seems the Lord prepared me by this means, together with my having begun to experience prayer, so that I could be able to bear the suffering with so much conformity to His will. All my conversations were with Him. I kept these words of Job very habitually in my mind and recited them: Since we receive good things from the hand of the Lord, why do we not suffer the evil things?7 This it seems gave me strength.
9. Then the feast of our Lady in August came. The torment had been going on since April, but it was worse during the latter three months. I hastened to go to confession, for I always liked to confess frequently. They thought I was afraid of dying, and so that I would not become troubled my father would not allow me to confess. Oh, love, too excessive, springing from flesh and blood; even though from so Catholic and prudent a father (for he was every bit of this, and his action did not arise from ignorance), it could have done me great harm! That night I suffered a paroxysm in which I remained for four days,8 or a little less, without any feeling. At this time they gave me the sacrament of the anointing of the sick, and from hour to hour or moment to moment they thought I was going to die; they did nothing but recite the Creed to me, as if I were able to understand them. At times they were so certain I was dead that afterward I even found the wax on my eyes.9
10. The sorrow my father felt for not having let me confess was great—many outcries and prayers to God. Blessed be He who desired to hear them! For after the grave in my convent was open for a day and a half awaiting arrival of the body, and the funeral rites were already celebrated at a monastery of our friars outside the city, the Lord allowed me to return to consciousness. Immediately I desired to confess. I received Communion with many tears, though it seems to me these tears were not caused by sorrow for having offended God, which would have been sufficient for salvation, but for the mistake I made on account of those who told me certain things were not mortal sins, which I afterward clearly saw were. The pains that remained were unsupportable—the contrition imperfect, although the confession was integral, including, in my opinion, everything I understood to have been an offense against God. For among other favors His Majesty has given me since my first Communion, there is this one: that I never fail to confess what I think is a sin even though venial. But without a doubt it seems to me that my salvation would have been in jeopardy if I should have then died since on the one hand my confessors were so poorly educated and on the other hand I was wretched, and for many other reasons.
11. Truly and certainly it seems to me that I am so startled in arriving at this part of my life and in seeing how apparently the Lord raised me from the dead that I am almost trembling within myself. I think it was good, O my soul, that you beheld the danger from which the Lord delivered you. And if out of love you do not give up offending Him, may you do so out of fear lest on any other of a thousand occasions He might let you die in a more dangerous state. I don’t believe I’m adding much by saying “any other of a thousand,” although I may be scolded by the one who commanded me to be moderate in telling about my sins; and they are being really beautified.
For the love of God I beg him not to cut out anything having to do with my faults, for this is where the magnificence of God and what He endures from a soul is seen more clearly. May He be blessed forever. May it please His Majesty that I die rather than ever cease to love Him.