Our Blessed Mother
July 1, 2022
“The babies are tucked between the roses in my garden like tiny rosebuds,
Each one loved and cared for by me.
They are tucked in carefully between the roses, and oh what a beautiful garden,
Although they have come here after being plucked from their mothers’ wombs,
As though they were troublesome weeds.
But oh, see how carefully they are tucked in between the roses in my garden,
Each one special and each one so loved.
In my garden, there is an abundance of grace,
And it pours over the babies who, like rosebuds,
Blossom with a smile and lift tiny hands to me.
Grace now pours also upon your land as fewer babies
Are being plucked from their abode and discarded,
But still in some areas of your country,
Babies are plucked daily as though they were troublesome weeds.
Although they will find safety in my garden, tucked between the roses,
The chastisement of the Lord will rain down upon these places.
The babies smile and lift their tiny hands to me,
And I gather them into my arms, and give each one a mother’s kiss,
And grace bathes the roses and the babies within my garden.
But the areas of the country where babies are still plucked and discarded,
Grow desolate for they are empty of grace,
And they will blow away in the wind of God.“