Message to Mary Ellen Lucas

On June thirtieth of 1991, Mary Ellen received this powerful message: 

"Little One. It is I, Jesus of the Holy Eucharist, the Blessed Sacrament! Behold your God, a victim of impurity, so vulnerable to man in this state. I am abused, mishandled, neglected and ignored. 

At the command of my priests, I am brought to Earth each day. More than ever, the first hands to touch me are polluted. I am then given freely to people who grab me without so much as a concern for my fragile body. 

They do not recognize me. They consume me into sin- darkened hearts. I am surrounded by filth! I am dropped. I am taken with the wrong hand. At times there is not even so much as a second glance from the heart which consumes me. 

My small children laugh and talk in my presence. While my angels are bowed in adoration. My people walk out, unconcerned. Some walk out immediately after they have consumed me. 

Unattended, unescorted, I am dropped, sometimes accidentally, sometimes out of carelessness and haste. 

I am the Bread of Life, yet I am thought of and regarded as everyday table bread, and little effort is given on my behalf. 

There is no respect for the Holiest of the Holy. I am scraped quickly and carelessly into the chalice, leaving particles behind: particles that no matter how tiny are still your Jesus, whole and complete. I am quickly locked away to bring a close to my Holy Mass so all attending can leave and get on with their day. 

In the solitude of my tabernacle, I await visitors. Oh, My little one, it is for these reasons I come to you this way. Look at me. Look at your beloved. I am the I Am, and I am reduced to a burden. 

My priests and my people must be re-educated. You have loved me, cried for me, consoled me, and adored me. Now, I am placing myself in your care. I am putting my trust in you knowing your love for Me. Fear no one or anything. Do not get discouraged. I am with you always. I am blessing you..." 

I knew she was special. How could I have ever imagined how special? I had never experienced the gift of roses as I did with Mary Ellen, except in Conyers.

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