Carlos Caso-Rosendi 

“I have come to set the world on fire, and I wish it were already burning!” Luke 12:49

For those who asked about the latest developments: I am doing fine, I am reasonably well protected and certain authorities have been informed of the goings-on of  the odd judicial situation that is basically a rip-off operation typical of the Argentine judicial system, already famous around the world for its venality and rapacity.

As for work, I continue working on several projects at once namely, the redevelopment of the that was interrupted on May 2017 to complete the publication of Guadalupe A River Of Light both in English and Spanish. I continue the production of the Vademecum of Catholic Apologetics, and They Asked For A Sign. Due to circumstances beyond my control, those projects will advance rather slowly but steadily. I am also translating  the account of the apparitions of Our Lady of Mount Carmel at Montaña Santa, in Puerto Rico that took place between 1899 and 1909. I hope to post them on Tuesday at the latest.

Very early this morning we had a strong and rather large thunderstorm here. The storm delivered a one-two punch on the city, clearing the air and washing the sidewalks—something that storms do much better than the local government. I have a small balcony and I remembered I had left the canopy down. So up I rushed out of bed to pull up the canopy. Returning inside, I decided to stay up since it was already 4:00 a.m. and I could use the extra time. I was wide awake after a couple of minutes under the cold rain, so staying up was not hard to do.

I do not know why I was thinking of St Faustina Kowalska and the famous vision she had in the dancing hall: In 1923 a young girl named Helena Kowalska [1] —who was going to be one day St Faustina—was at a dance-hall in Lodz, Poland. She was happily dancing when Jesus appeared by her side covered in wounds. The music stopped and everything around her disappeared, except Jesus, who then asked her sadly: “How long will you keep putting Me off?”

Don’t ask me why was I thinking about that. Normally, at that time in the morning I may think of coffee, toast, ham and eggs, or something of that sort. Then something almost imperceptible led me to the next thought: “That was Faustina’s illumination of conscience.” And then I thought that perhaps that “radiant peace” moment I experienced years ago, was something similar. I know at least three people now that went through similar events, perhaps not as spectacular as Faustina’s conversation with Jesus in the dancing hall but sufficient to move those souls to conversion, to serious consideration of spiritual things. Then the most important thought came: that great event some call “the illumination of conscience”—perhaps the same that the seers of Garabandal also announced as “the warning”—is prefigured by those individual experiences of illumination followed by a conversion. Almost every saint has had those experiences, and many who—like yours truly—were never saints, were also moved to conversion by those unusual events. Let me quote a few paragraphs from

Jesus said to St Faustina: “Before I come as the just Judge, I am coming first as the King of Mercy. Before the day of justice arrives, there will be given to people a sign in the heavens of this sort:  All light in the heavens will be extinguished, and there will be great darkness over the whole earth. Then the sign of the cross will be seen in the sky, and from the openings where the hands and the feet of the Savior were nailed will come forth great lights which will light up the earth for a period of time. This will take place shortly before the last day (Diary of St Faustina, 83). You will prepare the world for My final coming. (Diary of St Faustina, 429) Speak to the world about My mercy … It is a sign for the end times. After it, will come the Day of Justice. While there is still time, let them have recourse to the fountain of My mercy.  (Diary of Sr Faustina, 848)

That storm came to me “like a thief in the night” and both the brief shower I had to endure for a minute, and the thoughts that followed seem to me like a lesson: “wake up, take care of business, you don’t have much time left until sunrise.”


[1] Coincidentally, Helena is the Nordic version of the classic Greek name Helene: derived from the Greek root ēlē (light, torch, bright).