Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Where Heaven Touches Earth

Where Heaven Touches Earth

This is part 7.

I will add/explain more tomorrow....

a great blog, for those who are searching for spiritual information/experience.

listen and read the seven part series.

all are here


these have small bits of the music embedded... a trip to Mexico from Canada...


Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Thursday, August 18, 2016

The Face of War: Just a Boy in Syria

Tears and more tears... Aleppo and its people...

The stunned, bloodied face of 5-year-old Omran Daqneesh sums up the horror of Aleppo....

here is the story



this much madness is too much sorrow it's impossible.....


"The video shows a child after he was pulled from rubble in Aleppo, a Syrian city that has been devastated by constant bombardment.
A man carried the boy away from the rubble after a suspected Russian or Syrian regime airstrike in the neighborhood of rebel-held Qaterji.
He placed him in an orange seat, and the boy brushed his eye and face after the man walked away.
Looking dazed, he then wiped the blood and debris on the seat."
War photographers explain what makes 
image of Syrian child so devastatingly powerful
'It is the innocence, or more precisely the loss of it. Someone who should be playing games has instead been involved in the most violent act that humanity can commit'

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Desecration of Jesus and the Blessed Virgin Mary in Oklahoma

A Pedophile has organized a satanic mass and a ritual to attempt to desecrate the Blessed Virgin Mary--to take place in a public building in Oklahoma on Monday, August 15th, the Feast of the Assumption of Mary.

Since Mary and Jesus are about love, this is strangely sad, and exposes evil.


"...has scheduled a ticketed event at the Oklahoma City Civic Center Music Hall, which is run by the city government.

The event involves the attempted corruption of a plaster statue of the Virgin Mary using sulfur, menstrual blood, and the ashes of desecrated and burned pages of the Koran. It involves the consumption of a pig's heart and the "entrapment" of the Virgin Mary in a ritual triangle, in an attempted parody of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. The statue will be smashed.

Before the ritual, the group will hold a black mass. The black mass, often connected to witchcraft and demonic worship, is a sacrilegious ceremony that invokes Satan and mocks the Mass. It often involves the desecration of the Eucharist, generally by stealing a consecrated host from a Catholic Church and using it in a profane sexual ritual..."

Via Christian News Wire:

"Satanist and registered sex offender Adam Daniels announced that he will invoke Satan through a blasphemous Black Mass followed by a bloody ritual called “The Consumption of Mary,” all performed on city property.

“Every American should oppose this hateful attack against God,” said TFP [Tradition Family Property] Student Action Director John Ritchie, who hopes to collect 200,000 petitions against the Black Mass by the end of the week…"

Since Mary refused God nothing, God refuses her nothing, Her prayers are very powerful; she is called The Refuge of Sinners. Asking the Blessed Virgin Mary for help is a great gift open to everyone.

All good-hearted people are being asked to pray tomorrow, for the salvation of souls.

For more about Mary and Jesus, Click here:

To desecrate Jesus in the Eucharist is a most evil thing. If you believe in mysterious things, supernatural, eternal things, I hope you will never dismiss this as a small thing. 

Very Sad.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Why Does This Keep Happening?

Why does this keep happening?

In the face of evil perpetrated by humans onto one another, a question has been recently raised:
Why does this keep happening?

President Obama quoted this question in his remarks at a memorial service in Orlando this week—a memorial for 49 people who had been tending to their own business when they were murdered by a man who felt compelled by his (heart-felt) beliefs or (culturally acquired) behavior or (thoughtfully chosen) moral code or (cold-blooded) feelings or (spiritually deranged) sense of self to judge and end their earthly lives.

This act, like stabbing someone on the sidewalk from behind—seems so senseless, an explosion of sin, a rip in the space time love continuum.

To one who does NOT have these same heart-felt beliefs or particular moral codes or specific culturally acquired behaviors or who is NOT deranged—this act provokes judgement—or something. Those among us who are Gandhian will look upon the man one way. Those of us who are Kingian, perhaps another. How does the Dalai Lama look upon the man who rips the continuum this way? How a Democrat? A Republican? A Muslim? A Buddhist? How must a Christian look upon this man? Are we not weeping for the lost soul of the murderer? What does Jesus say to him?

This man who might have lived a life of joy, who might have made his children happy, who might have shared love and connection and the fruits of his labors with his community and in the world… Are we to pity him? Love him? Despise him? 
Delight in his death?

Why Does This Keep Happening?!

For those who have not pondered The Big Questions, this question is a cry for the end to a sadness that is painful and seems even unbearable. This question is for children who do not understand the way of things here on the journey, the Pilgrim’s Progress, the walk through the valley of death. For those who have found the Source of Faith, Hope and Love, this question is easy, heartbreaking to answer.
It keeps happening because men (please, I use the word as synecdoche) live in a state of sin.

These sorts of acts will keep happening as long as men live separated from God, that is, the Pure Light of Love consciously waiting for us in our hearts and in eternity. If you are an atheist, I do feel some pity for you, )life simply the flotsam and jetsam of genetic material, randomly swirling about the universe, hoping to replicate, generation after generation, through the meaningless ages, to no end...) as you will find that human beings without grace cannot build a utopia. 

These sorts of acts have happened since the beginning.

And these sorts of acts have happened throughout history—sometimes the monstrous act of war, malignant beyond all words; sometimes a micro act, of terrorizing one’s own mate, one’s very offspring; sometimes through (logically twisted) beliefs or (selfish) behavior or (sociopathic) moral codes or (lustful) feelings or a (spiritually deranged) sense of self.

Why should these acts not happen now? In the present age, our psychological research has determined the most powerful techniques to influence our children. We’ve taken this knowledge and constructed games, movies, music that allow our children to revel in destruction; attitudes and acts repeated and modeled over and over, day by day, year by year. In one country, children are at risk of losing their heads, in another, losing their minds. In one culture we teach our children to get money sex fame products bling and attitude, shoes they can’t walk in and clothes that point to the naughty bits; in another we teach them to run for their lives, to huddle, starving in hot tents with dirty water and biting insects because your neighbors don’t want you…

We have 300 schoolgirls stolen and enslaved for YEARS while the fancy leaders wine and dine and fly about visiting. We have boys and girls and women and men sold around the globe, more slave trading than any time in human history; knives are used as rape weapons in Congo and gay men thrown blindfolded off rooftops to their death -- by Law, in certain countries, fu’cryin’ out loud.

Millions around the globe apparently adhere to a beliefsystem whose moral code demands behavior similar to that which was inflicted by a man in Orlando so methodically, so selfishly, upon a collection of others of his own species who were in the middle of a night of music, connection, and the search for relationship…

Why do these things keep happening?
Life in a fallen world. 
The carnal and the spiritual.
We are not looking at the beam in our own eye…

Monday, June 6, 2016

Stanford Rapist Brock Turner Mugshot...finally

I was the wounded antelope of the herd, (stanford rape case)

Rape victim's full impact statement: this woman's honesty and clear truthfulness is beyond the lawyers' or anyone's ability to try the usual noisy distractions...

[ Weeping. Powerfull. Perfect. This is gut wrenching. Appalling.... As usual.]
I will clean up the formatting later today.

Also, more on this case, here

Read the Full Statement here:



One day, I was at work, scrolling through the news on my phone, and came across an article. In it, I read and learned for the first time about how I was found unconscious, with my hair disheveled, long necklace wrapped around my neck, bra pulled out of my dress, dress pulled off over my shoulders and pulled up above my waist, that I was butt naked all the way down to my boots, legs spread apart, and had been penetrated by a foreign object by someone I did not recognize. This was how I learned what happened to me, sitting at my desk reading the news at work. I learned what happened to me the same time everyone else in the world learned what happened to me. That’s when the pine needles in my hair made sense, they didn’t fall from a tree. He had taken off my underwear, his fingers had been inside of me. I don’t even know this person. I still don’t know this person. When I read about me like this, I said, this can’t be me.
This can’t be me. I could not digest or accept any of this information. I could not imagine my family having to read about this online. I kept reading. In the next paragraph, I read something that I will never forgive; I read that according to him, I liked it. I liked it. Again, I do not have words for these feelings.
At the bottom of the article, after I learned about the graphic details of my own sexual assault, the article listed his swimming times. She was found breathing, unresponsive with her underwear six inches away from her bare stomach curled in fetal position. By the way, he’s really good at swimming. Throw in my mile time if that’s what we’re doing. I’m good at cooking, put that in there, I think the end is where you list your extra-curriculars to cancel out all the sickening things that’ve happened.
The night the news came out I sat my parents down and told them that I had been assaulted, to not look at the news because it’s upsetting, just know that I’m okay, I’m right here, and I’m okay. But halfway through telling them, my mom had to hold me because I could no longer stand up. I was not okay...

The night after it happened, he said he didn’t know my name, said he wouldn’t be able to identify my face in a lineup, didn’t mention any dialogue between us, no words, only dancing and kissing. Dancing is a cute term; was it snapping fingers and twirling dancing, or just bodies grinding up against each other in a crowded room? I wonder if kissing was just faces sloppily pressed up against each other? When the detective asked if he had planned on taking me back to his dorm, he said no. When the detective asked how we ended up behind the dumpster, he said he didn’t know. He admitted to kissing other girls at that party, one of whom was my own sister who pushed him away. He admitted to wanting to hook up with someone. I was the wounded antelope of the herd, completely alone and vulnerable, physically unable to fend for myself, and he chose me. Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t gone, then this never would’ve happened. But then I realized, it would have happened, just to somebody else. You were about to enter four years of access to drunk girls and parties, and if this is the foot you started off on, then it is right you did not continue.
The night after it happened, he said he thought I liked it because I rubbed his back. A back rub. Never mentioned me voicing consent, never mentioned us speaking, a back rub.
One more time, in public news, I learned that my ass and vagina were completely exposed outside, my breasts had been groped, fingers had been jabbed inside me along with pine needles and debris, my bare skin and head had been rubbing against the ground behind a dumpster, while an erect freshman was humping my half naked, unconscious body. But I don’t remember, so how do I prove I didn’t like it.
I thought there’s no way this is going to trial; there were witnesses, there was dirt in my body, he ran but was caught. He’s going to settle, formally apologize, and we will both move on. Instead, I was told he hired a powerful attorney, expert witnesses, private investigators who were going to try and find details about my personal life to use against me, find loopholes in my story to invalidate me and my sister, in order to show that this sexual assault was in fact a misunderstanding. That he was going to go to any length to convince the world he had simply been confused.
I was not only told that I was assaulted, I was told that because I couldn’t remember, I technically could not prove it was unwanted. And that distorted me, damaged me, almost broke me. It is the saddest type of confusion to be told I was assaulted and nearly raped, blatantly out in the open, but we don’t know if it counts as assault yet. I had to fight for an entire year to make it clear that there was something wrong with this situation.
When I was told to be prepared in case we didn’t win, I said, I can’t prepare for that. He was guilty the minute I woke up. No one can talk me out of the hurt he caused me. Worst of all, I was warned, because he now knows you don’t remember, he is going to get to write the script. He can say whatever he wants and no one can contest it. I had no power, I had no voice, I was defenseless. My memory loss would be used against me. My testimony was weak, was incomplete, and I was made to believe that perhaps, I am not enough to win this. That’s so damaging. His attorney constantly reminded the jury, the only one we can believe is Brock, because she doesn’t remember. That helplessness was traumatizing.
Instead of taking time to heal, I was taking time to recall the night in excruciating detail, in order to prepare for the attorney’s questions that would be invasive, aggressive, and designed to steer me off course, to contradict myself, my sister, phrased in ways to manipulate my answers. Instead of his attorney saying, Did you notice any abrasions? He said, You didn’t notice any abrasions, right? This was a game of strategy, as if I could be tricked out of my own worth. The sexual assault had been so clear, but instead, here I was at the trial, answering question like:



I was pummeled with narrowed, pointed questions that dissected my personal life, love life, past life, family life, inane questions, accumulating trivial details to try and find an excuse for this guy who didn’t even take the time to ask me for my name, who had me naked a handful of minutes after seeing me. After a physical assault, I was assaulted with questions designed to attack me, to say see, her facts don’t line up, she’s out of her mind, she’s practically an alcoholic, she probably wanted to hook up, he’s like an athlete right, they were both drunk, whatever, the hospital stuff she remembers is after the fact, why take it into account, Brock has a lot at stake so he’s having a really hard time right now.
And then it came time for him to testify. This is where I became revictimized. I want to remind you, the night after it happened he said he never planned to take me back to his dorm. He said he didn’t know why we were behind a dumpster. He got up to leave because he wasn’t feeling well when he was suddenly chased and attacked. Then he learned I could not remember.
So one year later, as predicted, a new dialogue emerged. Brock had a strange new story, almost sounded like a poorly written young adult novel with kissing and dancing and hand holding and lovingly tumbling onto the ground, and most importantly in this new story, there was suddenly consent. One year after the incident, he remembered, oh yeah, by the way she actually said yes, to everything, so....

To sit under oath and inform all of us, that yes I wanted it, yes I permitted it, and that you are the true victim attacked by guys for reasons unknown to you is sick, is demented, is selfish, is stupid. It shows that you were willing to go to any length, to discredit me, invalidate me, and explain why it was okay to hurt me. You tried unyieldingly to save yourself, your reputation, at my expense.
My family had to see pictures of my head strapped to a gurney full of pine needles, of my body in the dirt with my eyes closed, dress hiked up, limbs limp in the dark. And then even after that, my family had to listen to your attorney say, the pictures were after the fact, we can dismiss them. To say, yes her nurse confirmed there was redness and abrasions inside her, but that’s what happens when you finger someone, and he’s already admitted to that. To listen to him use my own sister against me. To listen him attempt to paint of a picture of me, the seductive party animal, as if somehow that would make it so that I had this coming for me...

To sit under oath and inform all of us, that yes I wanted it, yes I permitted it, and that you are the true victim attacked by guys for reasons unknown to you is sick, is demented, is selfish, is stupid. It shows that you were willing to go to any length, to discredit me, invalidate me, and explain why it was okay to hurt me. You tried unyieldingly to save yourself, your reputation, at my expense.
My family had to see pictures of my head strapped to a gurney full of pine needles, of my body in the dirt with my eyes closed, dress hiked up, limbs limp in the dark. And then even after that, my family had to listen to your attorney say, the pictures were after the fact, we can dismiss them. To say, yes her nurse confirmed there was redness and abrasions inside her, but that’s what happens when you finger someone, and he’s already admitted to that. To listen to him use my own sister against me. To listen him attempt to paint of a picture of me, the seductive party animal, as if somehow that would make it so that I had this coming for me....


aid, I stupidly thought it was okay for me to do what everyone around me was doing, which was drinking. I was wrong.
Again, you were not wrong for drinking. Everyone around you was not sexually assaulting me. You were wrong for doing what nobody else was doing, which was pushing your erect dick in your pants against my naked, defenseless body concealed in a dark area, where partygoers could no longer see or protect me, and own my sister could not find me. Sipping fireball is not your crime. Peeling off and discarding my underwear like a candy wrapper to insert your finger into my body, is where you went wrong. Why am I still explaining this.
You said, During the trial I didn’t want to victimize her at all. That was just my attorney and his way of approaching the case.
Your attorney is not your scapegoat, he represents you. Did your attorney say some incredulously infuriating, degrading things? Absolutely. He said you had an erection, because it was cold. I have no words.
You said, you are in the process of establishing a program for high school and college students in which you speak about your experience to “speak out against the college campus drinking culture and the sexual promiscuity that goes along with that.”
Speak out against campus drinking culture. That’s what we’re speaking out against? You think that’s what I’ve spent the past year fighting for? Not awareness about campus sexual assault, or rape, or learning to recognize consent. Campus drinking culture. Down with Jack Daniels. Down with Skyy Vodka. If you want talk to high school kids about drinking go to an AA meeting. You realize, having a drinking problem is different than drinking and then forcefully trying to have sex with someone? Show men how to respect women, not how to drink less.


 For a while, I believed that that was all I was. I had to force myself to relearn my real name, my identity. To relearn that this is not all that I am. That I am not just a drunk victim at a frat party found behind a dumpster, while you are the All-American swimmer at a top university, innocent until proven guilty, with so much at stake. I am a human being who has been irreversibly hurt, who waited a year to figure out if I was worth something.
My independence, natural joy, gentleness, and steady lifestyle I had been enjoying became distorted beyond recognition. I became closed off, angry, self-deprecating, tired, irritable, empty. The isolation at times was unbearable. You cannot give me back the life I had before that night either. While you worry about your shattered reputation, I refrigerated spoons every night so when I woke up, and my eyes were puffy from crying, I would hold the spoons to my eyes to lessen the swelling so that I could see. I showed up an hour late to work every morning, excused myself to cry in the stairwells, I can tell you all the best places in that building to cry where no one can hear you, the pain became so bad that I had to tell my boss I was leaving, I needed time because continuing day to day was not possible. I used my savings to go as far away as I could possibly be.
I can’t sleep alone at night without having a light on, like a five year old, because I have nightmares of being touched where I cannot wake up, I did this thing where I waited until the sun came up and I felt safe enough to sleep. For three months, I went to bed at six o’clock in the morning.
I used to pride myself on my independence, now I am afraid to go on walks in the evening, to attend social events with drinking among friends where I should be comfortable being. I have become a little barnacle always needing to be at someone’s side, to have my boyfriend standing next to me, sleeping beside me, protecting me. It is embarrassing how feeble I feel, how timidly I move through life, always guarded, ready to defend myself, ready to be angry.

To conclude, I want to say thank you. To everyone from the intern who made me oatmeal when I woke up at the hospital that morning, to the deputy who waited beside me, to the nurses who calmed me, to the detective who listened to me and never judged me, to my advocates who stood unwaveringly beside me, to my therapist who taught me to find courage in vulnerability, to my boss for being kind and understanding, to my incredible parents who teach me how to turn pain into strength, to my friends who remind me how to be happy, to my boyfriend who is patient and loving, to my unconquerable sister who is the other half of my heart, to Alaleh, my idol, who fought tirelessly and never doubted me. Thank you to everyone involved in the trial for their time and attention. Thank you to girls across the nation that wrote cards to my DA to give to me, so many strangers who cared for me.
Most importantly, thank you to the two men who saved me, who I have yet to meet. I sleep with two bicycles that I drew taped above my bed to remind myself there are heroes in this story. That we are looking out for one another. To have known all of these people, to have felt their protection and love, is something I will never forget.
And finally, to girls everywhere, I am with you. On nights when you feel alone, I am with you. When people doubt you or dismiss you, I am with you. I fought everyday for you. So never stop fighting, I believe you. Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining. Although I can’t save every boat, I hope that by speaking today, you absorbed a small amount of light, a small knowing that you can’t be silenced, a small satisfaction that justice was served, a small assurance that we are getting somewhere, and a big, big knowing that you are important, unquestionably, you are untouchable, you are beautiful, you are to be valued, respected, undeniably, every minute of every day, you are powerful and nobody can take that away from you. To girls everywhere, I am with you. Thank you.


Sunday, March 20, 2016

The Passion of Christ

O great Passion!
O profound wounds!
O immeasurable sorrow!
O most copious shedding of blood!
O most abundant outpouring of tears!
O surpassing sweetness!
O death suffered in every bitterness!
Give me eternal life.


Details of the crucifixion of Jesus

Sunday, February 28, 2016

"Till it happens to you"--lady gaga song for sexual assault victims

The song nominated for an Academy Award called
till it happens to you 
I think is a pretty good description of the situation. After working with sexual assault victims for over 10 years I can say that this song will be a great balm for many of them...



  This movie:

The woman who accused Florida State quarterback Jameis Winston of sexually assaulting her has gone public with the release of a new documentary.
The movie, titled The Hunting Ground, made its debut at the Sundance Film Festival on Friday. TheLos Angeles Times describes the film as a "devastating indictment of the plague of rapes on campuses."

Read More about the crime Here:

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

The Adorable Face of Jesus

Today is a "Feast Day" in the Roman Catholic Church, the feast of the Holy Face of Jesus.

Jesus, from Veronica's Cloth

 More pictures of Jesus Christ  click HERE and  also HERE

The face of Jesus Christ

Painting of Jesus Christ

Story of the child prodigy
who painted this painting of Jesus click HERE

Jesus Crucified


Here is the Litany of the Holy Face of Jesus

Lord, have mercy on us. 
Jesus Christ, have mercy on us. 
Lord, have mercy on us. , 
Jesus Christ have mercy on us. 
Holy Virgin Mary, 
pray for us. 

O Jesus, Whose adorable Face Mary and Joseph worshipped with profoundest reverence, 
have mercy on us. 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is the masterpiece of the Holy Ghost, in which the Father was well pleased, 
have mercy on us. 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face ravished with joy the angels,
shepherds and Magi in the stable of 
have mercy on us .

O Jesus, Whose adorable Face wounded with a dart of love the aged Simeon and the Prophetess Anna in 
the temple, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face was bathed in tears in Thy Holy Infancy, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face at the age of twelve astonished the doctors in the temple, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is white with purity and ruddy with charity, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is more beautiful than the sun, brighter than the moon and more brilliant 
than the stars, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is lovelier than the roses of spring, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is more precious than gold, silver and gems, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face wins all hearts by Its charms and grace, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is most noble in Its heavenly features, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is contemplated by the angels, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is the sweet delight of the saints, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face was the joy of Thy Virgin Mother and thy foster-father, 
have mercy on us.

O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is the ineffable mirror of the Divine perfections, 
have mercy on us.

O Jesus, the beauty of Whose adorable Face is ever ancient 
and ever new, 
O Jesus, the modesty and mildness of Whose adorable Face attracteth both just and sinners, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face appeaseth the Divine wrath, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is the terror of the evil spirits, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face is the treasure of grace and blessings, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face was exposed to the inclemency of the weather in the wilderness, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face was bathed with sweat in Thy journeys and scorched with the heat of the sun, 
O Jesus, the expression of Whose adorable Face is wholly Divine, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face gave a holy kiss and blessing to the little children, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face sorrowed and wept at the grave of Lazarus, 
O Jesus, Whose adorable Face was brilliant as the sun and radiant with glory on Mount Tabor, 

V. The light of Thy Face has been shed upon us, O Lord. 
R. Thou hast given joy to our hearts. 

O Adorable Face, worthy of all reverence, veneration and worship, 
have mercy on us.

O Adorable Face, sorrowful at the sight of Jerusalem and shedding tears over that ungrateful city, 
have mercy on us.

O Adorable Face, bowed to the earth in the Garden of Olives, and covered with confusion for our sins, &c. 
O Adorable Face, bathed in a bloody sweat, Adorable Face, kissed by the traitor Judas, 
O Adorable Face, Whose sanctity and majesty smote the soldiers with fear and cast them to the ground, 
O Adorable Face, struck by an infamous servant, blindfolded and profaned by the sacrilegious hands 
of Thine enemies, 
have mercy on us.

O Adorable Face, defiled with spittle and bruised by so many buffets and blows, 
O Adorable Face, Whose divine look wounded the heart of Peter with repentance, sorrow and love, 
O Adorable Face, humbled for us at the tribunals of Jerusalem, 
O Adorable Face, which didst preserve Thy serenity when Pilate pronounced the fatal sentence, 
O Adorable Face, covered with sweat and blood and forced into the mire under the weight of the Cross, 
O Adorable Face, the brow crowned with deep and piercing thorns, 
O Adorable Face, wiped with a veil by a pious woman on the way to Calvary, 
O Adorable Face, raised on the instrument of the most shameful punishment, 
O Adorable Face, Whose eyes shed of tears of blood, 
O Adorable Face, Whose mouth was tormented with vinegar and gall, 

O Adorable Face, Whose hair and beard were plucked out by the executioners, 
O Adorable Face, disfigured like the face of a leper, 
O Adorable Face, Whose incomparable beauty was obscured under the fearful cloud of the sins of the 
O Adorable Face, covered with the sad shades of death, 
O Adorable Face, washed and anointed by Mary and the holy women, and covered with a shroud, 
O Adorable Face, enclosed in the sepulchre, 
O Adorable Face, all resplendent with glory and beauty on the day of Thy resurrection, 
O Adorable Face, all dazzling with light at the moment of Thine ascension, 
O Adorable Face, hidden in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, 
O Adorable Face, which will appear at the End of Time in the clouds, with great power and majesty, 
O Adorable Face, which will cause sinners to tremble with terror, 
O Adorable Face, which will fill the just with joy for all eternity, 
have mercy on us. 

V. O Lord, show us Thy Face, 
R. And we shall be saved. 

Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, 
Spare us, O Lord. 
Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, 
Graciously hear us, O Lord. 
Lamb of God, Who takest away the sins of the world, 
Have mercy on us, O Lord. 

Let us pray. 

I salute Thee, I adore Thee, I love Thee, O Adorable Face of Jesus my beloved, noble seal of the Divinity! With all the powers of my soul I apply myself to Thee, and most humbly pray Thee to imprint in me all the features of Thy divine countenance. 

R. Amen. 

We beseech Thee, O Almighty and merciful God, grant to us and to all who venerate the countenance of Thy dearly beloved Son, all disfigured by our sins, the grace to behold It throughout eternity in the glory of Its majesty, through the same Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is, with Thee and the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. R. Amen. 

O my Jesus, cast upon us a look of mercy! Turn Thy Face toward each of us as Thou didst to Veronica, not that we may see It with our bodily eyes, for this we do not deserve, but turn It toward our hearts, so that remembering Thee, we may ever draw from this fountain of strength the vigour necessary to sustain all combats of life.

R. Amen.


The Mercy of God  (HERE and HERE)

From Christ the King Church in Topeka, Ks