Not so. Those specific prayers serve as a good supplement. But inasmuch as we fail to cultivate the virtue of trust, we deprive ourselves of this precious, merciful gift. The Divine Mercy and the Redemption won by Jesus Christ is the only way for us to reach heaven. Without the Crucifixion and Resurrection, our salvation would be impossible.

Unless one is willing to accept his own cross and embrace it, the Redemption may as well have never occurred for this soul. Actually, that soul’s destiny is worse than if there had been no redemption for the human race. At the judgment, the souls in hell will have full knowledge of the sweetness their crosses could have given them, if only they had not thrown them away.

Reciting the Divine Mercy prayers as revealed to St. Faustina with little or no devotion will not nurture what Jesus repeatedly told her what is so desperately needed in this age, trust in His merciful love. This is true for all souls — those steeped in sin, despairing, suffering and those striving for perfection, along with the “perfect” souls.1

There is a way to learn to trust the only thing trustworthy for those who seek knowledge of the virtue. The most basic way is prayer, the simpler the better. Our guide is the Lord Himself. When the disciples requested of him, “Lord, teach us to pray,”2 He gave them the “Our Father.” Over the past twenty centuries, this has been the primary prayer of all Christians. This is the first prayer many children learn, even before they can read. Young, trusting children tend to be much more endearing to their father than those who pretend they’re grown up. There are no grown-ups in God’s eyes. We are all children.

Before we can pray the “Our Father” with childlike simplicity, “we must humbly cleanse our hearts of certain false images drawn ‘from this world.’”3 These include the notion that we can do all or at least many things ourselves. In doing so, we limit God’s role in our lives to, as the saying goes, “God is my co-pilot.” As one grows in holiness, he realizes that God is in control, in charge of everything. Other than the use of man’s free will in determining whether to cooperate with God’s grace, man is along for the ride. Learning this takes time, patience and grace. Many know intellectually that this is so, but living it takes at least a lifetime.

This is brought out so well in the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. The retreatant meditates on man and the end for which he and other creatures were made, which is God. He can find happiness only in God. He must learn to detach from creatures, which are wholly untrustworthy: “All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.”4

It doesn’t matter whether the soul clings to these attachments. God will pursue the soul until the body breathes its last. Whether the soul is blackened in sin is immaterial — the “Hound of Heaven” will chase after it. In fact, anyone familiar with hound dogs know that they are especially tenacious about capturing the most smelly, rotting (yes, dead) prey. Why should not our Lord be at least as resolute about pursuing a dead soul in a live body?

This is what the Redemption is all about. One can choose to run away from it to his eternal detriment or come before God as a little child and accept all of the Divine Love given, especially if it hurts. When it hurts, trust in His mercy. Those souls are to “turn and become like children.”5 Childlikeness brings a man to heaven; the childishness of not accepting what God provides is self-love and brings eternal doom.

If God is persistent about bringing souls to Him, then nothing less than “stubborn” resolve is required in our prayer. Of course, the first requirement in prayer should be that God’s will be done. Beyond that, those who love God must persevere in prayer. Otherwise, “those who get tired after praying for a time are lacking in either humility or confidence, and so do not deserve to be heard.”6

Whether God’s will consists of sending us consolations or taking us from this earth before we think we are ready—it is irrelevant. We should be happy either way. As Fr. Paul de Jaegher, S.J. wrote on his treatise on trust, “Although you should kill me, yet will I trust in you. In you my hope is fast: in you I will hope against all hope.”7

Nor must we worry about loved ones whom we know, objectively speaking, approached death with unrepented sins. In these cases, we must also trust in God’s Divine Mercy. Anyone who has committed mortal sin deserves hell, but can repent before death. Purgatory, although a spiritual purification and in that sense painful, is one of the most beautiful effects of Christ’s merciful Redemption. It is the opportunity for those who do not die with pure souls to expiate their sins. While it does not compare to heaven, it is much more beautiful than hell. As the angel says in John Henry Newman’s Dream of Gerontius after the soul’s judgment to purgatory:

Angels, to whom the willing task is given;
Shall tend, and nurse, and lull thee, as thou liest;
And Masses on the earth, and prayers in heaven,
Shall aid thee at the Throne of the most Highest.

Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear,
Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow;
Swiftly shall pass thy night of trial here,
And I will come and wake thee on the morrow.

Lord Jesus, make me open to your grace. Let me trust you, since I know I cannot trust myself. But very well, since you told me to trust because you have overcome the world, why shouldn’t I, hand-in-hand with you, trust that I, too, with your grace, will overcome not only the world or the devil, but also my own inclinations?

This is the key to spiritual growth – complete honesty with God, then doing what we know he wants us to do and then letting go, trusting him that he will not fail us.18