"And I beheld, and heard the voice of one eagle flying through the midst of heaven,
saying with a loud voice: Woe, woe, woe to the inhabitants of the earth....
[Apocalypse (Revelation) 8:13]

Tuesday, August 22, 2017



January 9, 1878
Marie-Julie: I meet Our Lord. His Heart is uncovered: It pours forth rivers of Blood ... His tunic is soaked. His Wounds seem fresh. He is pale.
“I adore you, my beloved Saviour.”
Sacred Heart: “Come close, My victim.”
Marie-Julie: “Your suffering is great!”
Sacred Heart: “My children, they are the latest opprobriums
that I suffer. You who have fought for Me, and who have been faithful to My commandments, rejoice.”
The Divine Saviour uncovers His wounded
Heart, and I see inscribed the sentence of doom:

“It is you, guilty France, to whom I want to make a final appeal of tenderness, you who are here, in this ship. (I.e. His Sacred Heart is shown as an ark of refuge.) Do you not hear the storm that rumbles and approaches you? Come to the edge of the river, give Me only the smallest beat of your heart. Come, receive the Lord, come to those who want to save you.”
France remains silent: she has neither voice nor breath. Nothing.
The Divine Jesus looks up to His Father. I do not know what He said, but His words must be terrible because I feel in my soul, pain that is more than mortal.
God the Father: “My Beloved Son, this is My Will: that all (of that sinner) be exterminated!” (i.e France)
“Courage, My children,” Jesus said, “the cruel enemy gathers his own. O France, this time will cost you dear!”
The red cloud reaches the ground. It leaves the men fuelled with their burning crimes of passion for revenge against Heaven, the desire to kill faithful Christians, destroy the temple of the Lord.
“These are,” says Jesus, “My most treacherous enemies and yours as well, My children.”
For the fifth time, the Saviour called France and ordered her to leave the ship. (i.e the ark of His Heart) She obeyed. The Lord gives her a ball in which it is written and she reads at the same time. Here it is written:
“I brought the death blow to my children. I gave everything to my enemies. Nothing remains for me but pain, blindness, and tears.”
France still reads to the bottom of the ball, so to speak, the sentence of death. She sheds torrents of tears.
“Must it be so, O Divine Heart,” cried she, “that France will perish entirely except Brittany and Vendée whose land was bathed in the blood of martyrs!”
“That is not all,” says the Lord.
France: “Must I have only this short time? If only my name (of France) would continue to exist there! It will still be pronounced abroad, but in the same country, the name (ie. of France) will be dead."
“Look above,” the Lord said again.
“I will be left alone in the battle,” said France. “You refuse me all help. Ah well! I throw myself into despair. Strike, remove my name,
let me perish.”
“Guilty France,” said the Divine Jesus in anger, “you have borne the good name of France. After your death, it will remain. You yourself have liberated My temple and My altars with sacrilegious hands. You have made yourself glorious! You have proposed to dip your arms up to the elbows in the blood of the victims of My
altars. Do you think your friends will save you? You thereby hope to shorten the term of My Justice. Do you think you can save yourself from a lot so terrible?
My children, receive the Saviour, I turn to you. No man can save this poor France drowned in crime. Without Me there would be no hope for her. I WILL PERFORM A MIRACLE FOR THE RIGHTEOUS, but THERE WILL ONLY BE A PART OF THE KINGDOM SAVED. The other will remain groaning many days.
I have populated the earth with My death, I will depopulate it by My Justice. After My Justice, I will repopulate the earth with a new people.”