Fear of the Lord

             The fear of the Lord in my life has taught me that He is my mighty fortress.  God is bigger than all of my trials.

 This morning, on the Feast Day of St. Padre Pio, I woke up with a heavy heart.  Something was not right in my soul.  Was it hardness of heart, I detected?  That’s the last thing I wanted.

I was surprised, because I thought going to Confession two days ago would lift this gloom.  I forgave my husband.  I forgave myself.  So, what is this?  Why do I feel this way?

I begged Mary, my holy Mother of God, to unite my heart with her Son’s Sacred Heart.  I only want to love like Jesus loves.  I only want to live conformed to God’s will for me.  I only want to be free to please Him and to delight in Him.

I decided this foul attitude was not of God.  It wasn’t coming from me.  My conscience was clear.  I placed my faith and hope and trust in Jesus that He loves me, even when I don’t feel His love.

I decided to praise and worship and adore my God.  Besides, it was a gorgeous day outside, and I have every reason to be thankful and grateful for all that God has done for me.

I decided to pray the rosary, the Joyful Mysteries, since it was Monday.  I was only half way through the first decade when my sweet Mother Mary came to me in prayer.  I could see her in my mind.  I felt so unworthy to be in her holy presence.  Everything good just radiates from her!  She looked like Our Lady of Guadalupe, with her rays of sunlight shining forth from behind her, and piercing the darkness in my heart.

My heart looked like a bed of barren sticks, so much like the empty nest that all of my five children flew away from.  I could see in my mind that Mary gently laid her Baby Son Jesus in my heart and in my arms!  Jesus loves me so much to allow His Mother to give Himself to me.  I don’t deserve His Mercy and Loving Kindness, but I joyfully accept them deep in my soul.

Then I saw in my mind that Saint Padre Pio, Saint Therese of Lisieux, and Saint Catherine of Sienna were looking at Baby Jesus in my arms, and adoring Him!

All I know is that I was broken, and lonely, and empty, and Jesus came to me through His Holy Mother.  And then, in my mind, I was holding Him, a newborn baby, in my heart, and in my arms.

Jesus is with me!  Jesus loves me!  Jesus fills me up with His Holy Presence, His Peace, His Love, and His Joy!

I don’t need to be afraid.  I don’t need to be anxious.  I don’t need to be sad.  My God is my mighty fortress.  I rest in Him and He rests in me.

“My soul, be at rest in God alone, from whom comes my hope.  God alone is my rock and my salvation, my secure height; I shall not fall.  My safety and glory are with God, my strong rock and refuge.  Trust God at all times, my people!  Pour out your hearts to God our refuge!”  Psalm 62:6-9

“Lord, my heart is not proud; nor are my eyes haughty.  I do not busy myself with great matters, with things too sublime for me.  Rather, I have stilled my soul, hushed it like a weaned child.  Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap, so is my soul within me.”  Psalm 131:1-2

From Now On

         “If you know me, then you will also know my Father.  From now on you do know him and have seen him…If you ask anything of me in my name, I will do it.”  John 14:7, 14

These three words rang in my ears, “from now on,” as I was reading this scripture at my Lectio Divina (sacred reading) prayer meeting.  It immediately reminded me of the healing service that I attended the night before, when I stood in the gap for a member of my family who desperately needed healing.

Now that I have asked the Lord for healing, I was told, “from now on,” to thank the Lord for the healing every time I think of it.  “But he was pierced for our sins, crushed for our iniquity.  He bore the punishment that makes us whole, by his wounds we were healed.”  Isaiah 53:5

Instead of despairing about the illness, I am joyfully thanking God every day for the fact that Jesus already healed my loved one through His wounds on the Cross.  From now on, you, too, can thank God every day for the love He has shown you on this retreat.  From now on, you do know Jesus, and have seen Him!  From now on, you know the Father’s love for you.

Fire Starters

            “But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them… Having been disciplined a little, they will receive great good, because God tested them and found them worthy of himself; like gold in the furnace he tried them, and like a sacrificial burnt offering he accepted them.  In the time of their visitation they will shine forth, and will run like sparks through the stubble.”  Wisdom 3:1, 5-7

            I never would have thought a year ago that God would call me to be doing what I’m doing today.  It started with some new friends that joined our parish, and who attended the Women’s ACTS (Adoration, Community, Theology, Service) retreat.  I did not attend the retreat this time, but I was blessed to get to know several of the women who experienced it.

            I was used to being involved with ministries inside our parish, like being a member of the choir, being a lector, and being a catechist for RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults).  I was comfortable with the people I already knew, and the ways in which we ministered to one another in the Name of our Lord Jesus.  I wasn’t looking for a change, but my Lord showed me that it was time for me to step out in faith.

            One of my new friends invited me to a Catholic Charismatic Mass at the CCCR (Catholic Center for Charismatic Renewal.)  I just about jumped out of my skin!  I had not been to a Catholic Charismatic Mass for fifteen years, even though I grew up going to weekly Catholic Charismatic prayer meetings with my mom, since 8^th grade, and continued to go to them in college, and after I got married.

I grew up praying out loud, singing praise and worship music, and using the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  In God’s holy wisdom, for the past fifteen years, He took me out of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal.  I missed the weekly meetings terribly, but there were many areas of my life that I needed to pay attention to, and offer up to God for healing, so that I could grow closer to Him.

  Some of the things I learned during this time were humility; growing in my relationship with Mary, my holy Mother of God; learning to pray the rosary and the Divine Mercy Chaplet; to love and adore my Lord at Eucharistic Adoration; to meditate on God’s Word through Lectio Divina; and to work hard at loving my husband, communicating better with him, and having a better relationship with him.

            This past year my Lord has brought me back into the Catholic Charismatic Renewal.  I have been so blessed and blown away!  I wanted so badly to start a prayer meeting at our parish, but the timing wasn’t right yet.  Instead, the Lord has been sending me and my new friends into people’s homes to start little prayer meetings, and spread the fire of His Love.

Jesus said to his disciples, “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”  Matthew 28:18-20

At first, going into people’s homes felt out of my comfort zone, and definitely out of my shell.  I had to learn to rely completely upon Jesus and Mary, and the promptings of the Holy Spirit.  I constantly wondered what my husband would think.  I was worried that I would neglect my family if I spent too much time ministering away from home.

One night I was praying about this, and Mary spoke to my heart.  She said, “Say YES! to God, like I did.”  Later, Jesus spoke to my heart.  He said, “I make a way!”  Encouraged, I said yes to God, and I trusted in Jesus to make a way for me to do His Will.  I placed my faith in their beautiful words to me.  I stopped worrying about how I was going to get everything done.  God is in control of my life.  I will accomplish everything He has planned for me to do.

Lord, I want, “…to do what your hand and [your] will long ago planned to take place.  And now, Lord…enable your servants to speak your word with all boldness, as you stretch forth [your] hand to heal, and signs and wonders are done through the name of your holy servant Jesus.”  Acts 4:28-30

            “Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Your faithful and enkindle in us the Fire of Your Love.  Send forth Your Spirit, and we shall be created.  And You shall renew the face of the earth!”  The Holy Spirit is represented by fire, and fills us with an unquenchable, burning love.

Is God calling you to be a fire starter?  Is God asking you to spread the Fire of His Love?  Jesus is our Light, and my new friends and I truly feel like sparks running through the stubble.  My prayer is that you allow Jesus to ignite you with the Fire of His Love and Light, and come run with Him!  Praise God!

Fresh Gas

           All I knew is that I wanted to get the lawn mowed before I left town to move my daughter into her collage apartment.  I was leaving in two weeks, and I would be gone for two weeks, since we were driving to Savannah, Georgia.  The weeds were already knee high, and it had to be done!

            I pulled out my trusty little crimson push lawn mower, checked the oil, put in the gas, and put on my foggy goggles, mint green pollen mask, and mustard yellow leather gloves.  I wheeled the lawn mower into that level sweet spot in the driveway, where I knew I had the best chance of starting the motor.  I pushed the primer button three times, gripped the safety bar to the handle, and yanked hard on the pull string.  Nothing.  I pushed the primer button three more times, grabbed close the safety bar, and quickly drew out the pull string.  Nothing.  I repeated the whole process again, thinking surely by now I was flooding the engine with gas.  And still, nothing.

            I called Home Depot, where I bought the lawn mower.  I was relieved that the mower was still under warranty, since I only purchased it eight months ago.  Unfortunately, they would have to ship my lawn mower away to find out what was wrong with it.  I called a repair shop who wanted to charge me at least $80 just to look at it.  They said the first thing they would do is empty the gas, and put in fresh gas.  Then they would check the fuel line to see if it was clogged.  I was thinking that surely the gas in my garage was fine.  I just used my lawn mower a month ago, with that same gas.

            I decided in this day and age, I could fix the lawn mower faster and cheaper myself by watching you tube videos!  I watched you tube videos for hours, making a plan of action.  I read sections of the user’s manual online, familiarizing myself with all the parts to my lawn mower.

            I drove to Home Depot to buy a new spark plug and a suction kit to drain the gas.  It took me a long time, but I finally found the correct tool in my garage to remove the old spark plug.  I installed the new spark plug, but I didn’t want to add gas until I finished checking the other things that could be wrong with it.  I was convinced that I needed to take off the fuel line, to clean it out.  I tried everything to pull it off, but I was unsuccessful.  I became more and more frustrated as each day passed, and as the weeds grew taller.

            My husband, who was swamped with work, even said that I could buy a new lawn mower if I couldn’t get this one to work.  I wasn’t ready to give up.  I thought there was one last thing I could do, but it would require me to get inside the gas pump to clean out some tiny holes with a little wire, like I saw in the promising you tube videos.

            It was dark outside at the end of the day when I went out to the garage.  After lifting the lawn mower onto some blocks of wood, I realized that I would have to literally turn the mower upside down to unscrew the motor from the base.  That is where I drew the line.  I had worked on my mower for four days, and I was getting nowhere!

            On the fifth day I decided to drive to the gas station to buy new gas.  I thought I would try one last time to engage my lawn mower before I bought a new one.  I was scared that the mower would just blow up since I tinkered with it for so long, not really knowing what I was doing.  I set up the fire extinguisher nearby, just in case.

            I pressed the primer button three times, squeezed the safety bar shut, and pulled the draw string with all my might.  I was shocked when the engine roared to life!  All it needed was fresh gas!  I was praising God!  What makes gas go bad anyway?  I didn’t care, my lawn mower was working!  Halleluia!

            Immediately, I was struck with the thought that the Holy Spirit is like fresh gas.  Just like my lawn mower needed fresh gas to run properly, I need God’s Holy Spirit to live my life the way God intended me to live it.  “…you will receive power when the holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  Acts 1:8

Pure Love

I got a phone call from my mother-in-law on the last day of December, 2014, New Year’s Eve.  Her voice was hoarse and gravelly.  She had the flu since Christmas.  “Would you please go to the plant nursery for me and pick up my free mulch?  My coupon expires today.  I would have done it myself, but then I got sick.”

I did the math.  I had already decided that I was too sick with my own congestion and raw throat to go to the Solemnity of Mary Mass, however, I could probably run this errand for her.  Plus, she melted my heart by calling me an endearing name used by very few people that know me – my mom, husband, and beloved deceased grandfather.

So, I got into my pyrite-colored truck, and drove to her home ten minutes away.  She was laying on her couch in front of the T.V., covered in a crocheted afghan.  “The coupon is behind you on the kitchen table.  Will your kids be able to spread the mulch under my plants?  There’s supposed to be a freeze tonight.”

“No, my kids tested positive with the flu, the virus strain that was not covered by the flu shot.  I don’t have the energy to spread it either, I’m still under the weather...”  I could tell she was worried about her xeriscape plants - thirty planted in her front yard, and another thirty in her backyard.  There were red and purple Lantanas; Soft and Red Yuccas; Ocohoi and Variegated Agaves; Cacti, like Spineless Prickly Pear; a hot pink Crepe Myrtle; several Upright Rosemary plants; a magenta Knock Out Rose; a Mexican Bird of Paradise; Autumn and Blue Sages; yellow Bulbines; a Crinum Lily; two Persimmon Trees; two Cenizos; a purple Mountain Laurel; Turk’s Caps; Butterfly Irises; yellow Esperanzas; Mexican Mint Marigolds; Skull Caps; Inland Sea Oats; and Oregano, Duranta, and Damianita plants.  As I was leaving, I said, “I’ll just put the bags of mulch in your garage.”

I drove to the plant nursery, about twenty minutes away, and picked up six bags of cedar mulch, her favorite kind.  During the drive there and back, the Lord was working on my heart.  I kept thinking about some words that Jesus spoke to Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, number 1489 in her Diary, “A single act of pure love pleases Me more than a thousand imperfect prayers.”

I thought, “When have I ever performed an act of pure love?”  Then, from the depths of my soul, I heard a very tiny whisper.  It was Mary, my holy Mother.  She said, “What if you spread the mulch?”  At first, I balked at the idea.  But, I’m sick.  “You’re not that sick.”  But, I’m allergic to cedar.  “Only to the pollen.”  But, I’m wearing a white coat, and I have no gloves.  “You can wash later.”

By the time I got back to my mother-in-law’s home, it was 37 degrees outside, and dropping.  I really did not want to get my hands dirty, even just to pull the two cubic foot bags into her garage.  Then the thought occurred to me that spreading the mulch would really be an act of pure love!  All of a sudden, the idea became irresistible.  I’m gonna do it!

            I pulled one of the bags of mulch off the end of the truck and tore a hole in the top of it.  I leaned it against the back tire and plunged my hands into the shredded wood and dirt.  I grabbed as much mulch as I could hold with my bare hands, and stooped down to spread it around the bottom of a spiky yucca plant.  I spread the mulch around a dozen plants, pulled down another bag, and leaned it against the front corner of her home.  As I was tearing a hole in the top of the second bag, a chilling breeze ran across my fingers.  I noticed that if I kept my hands inside the plastic bag just a few seconds longer before pulling out the mulch, my hands would not feel cold as quickly.  I wasn’t sure that I could keep this up.  I began to doubt that I would be able to spread the remaining five bags of mulch.

            Then I think a miracle happened.  It seemed as if the temperature rose a few degrees.  My hands weren’t cold anymore.  I kept working.  I felt as if Mary’s angels were helping me along.  My work became easy and light.  I had such an overwhelming joy in my heart, and an even greater love for my mother-in-law!  An hour and fifteen minutes later, I finished spreading all six bags of mulch in the front and back yards.  Instead of pulling the six heavy bags of mulch into her garage, I put the six empty bags into her trash can.

            I decided not to tell my mother-in-law what I did.  After rinsing off my hands the best I could with her hose, I drove home in enough time to make dinner for my family.  My heart was soaring!  I realized that the miracle was not only in the physical circumstances, but also the fact that the Lord gave me such a deep and pure love for my mother-in-law!  I marveled in the knowledge that what I did for her pleased Jesus more than praying a thousand imperfect prayers for her salvation!

            The next day, I got a phone call from guess who.  She told me the story of how she looked out of her window that morning at her Persimmon Tree and thought, “Poor tree, you are going to die.”  Then she looked down at the base of the tree and, seeing the mulch, said, “Oh!  You’re not going to die!”  She asked me, “Who did the labor?”

            I said, “I did.  Merry Christmas!  I love you!!”

Lent & Easter 2017

            When I prayed the Joyful Mysteries of the rosary this Monday morning of Holy Week, the day after Palm Sunday, I had the sense that Jesus was going to show His Love for me, which was what I prayed for all forty days of Lent.  Father Pat Martin promised me that if I prayed the rosary every morning during Lent, the way that he said to pray it, that God would answer a personal intention of mine.  Father Pat said that instead of praying for my personal intention, I needed to ask Mary, the Mother of God, to help me to see God’s love for me today.

Wow!  What a life-changing prayer!  What a weapon against negative thoughts!  There’s no room for putting myself down, or judging the people in my life, when I’m too busy thinking about God loving just me, just today.  When I feel loved, and healed, and whole in God’s eyes, then I have a greater capacity in my heart to be more kind, gentle, merciful, and sensitive to the needs of those around me, and to help them know God’s love for them.

The answer came in the afternoon when I knelt down to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet.  I remembered a new prayer that Father Pat taught our parish recently.  He said to pray every day, “For the love of Jesus, I offer up my sufferings to the Lord for the salvation of souls.”  I was thinking about the various sufferings that I endure in my life, but when I started to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet, all of a sudden, I was aware and struck by Jesus’ sufferings that He offered up to His Heavenly Father for the salvation of the world.  My sufferings are only a tiny speck compared to the magnitude of Jesus’ sufferings.  The merit of my sufferings is so very tiny compared to the vast merit of Jesus’ sufferings, because He suffered out of tremendous, self-less, unconditional, merciful love!

In prayer, I saw with the eyes of my heart, Jesus crucified, with His Precious Blood, flowing down from the wounds in His Body.  I saw myself as an empty gold chalice, catching and holding Jesus’ Blood in the center of the chalice, until it filled up to the brim.  As I prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet, I lifted up the chalice to the Lord, offering God my Father the Blood of His Son, Jesus.  Praying each bead of the Divine Mercy Chaplet caused the chalice to fill anew with Jesus’ Blood, so I could offer it up to God again, and again!

It reminded me of how so many times in prayer I would see with the eyes of my heart, Mary, drawing strength, mercy, and love from Jesus’ Blood to fuel the graces and blessings she bestowed on her children in answer to their prayers.  I understood that Jesus was, “showing His love for me today,” by blessing me with a special gift, a unique capacity to do what Mary was doing, to draw forth from Jesus’ Precious Blood salvation for souls, by offering up His Blood to our Heavenly Father.  Now I understood more clearly the meaning of the, “special devotion of emptying myself,” that Mary had given to me in prayer about a year ago.

Jesus told Saint Faustina in the middle of a storm to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and the storm would cease.  When the storm stopped at once, He said to her, “Through the chaplet you will obtain everything, if what you ask for is compatible with My will.”  (Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska, #1731)  This is where I can pray for my personal intentions, and obtain the ones that are in line with God’s will.  All I have to do is trust in the power of Jesus’ Precious Blood, as I offer up Jesus’ sufferings to God the Father for the salvation of souls.  Jesus, I trust in You!

Usually, I practice the Easter music with my choir each year, and attend the Masses four nights in a row – Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil on Saturday night after sunset, and Sunday morning with my family.  Well, this year I got sick after the Holy Thursday’s foot washing Mass, and I couldn’t go to any Masses the rest of the weekend!  I was in bed for three days.

Usually, I would take over-the-counter medicines to ease my pain and suffering, but I remembered Father Pat Martin talking about how people tend to do everything possible to avoid pain, rather than embrace pain like Jesus did on the Cross.  A very small nudging from Mary, deep in my soul, caused me to consider the salvation of souls, and decide to offer up my pain for the love of Jesus.  I’m sure Ibuprofen would have taken away my body aches, but I wanted to be close to Jesus this Holy Week.  I wanted to leave room for God to show me how He was loving me each day, by allowing me to participate in some very small way, in His Passion.

On the third day, Easter Sunday, I was laying in my bed with uncomfortable, constant pain in both of my knees for about three hours.  I was waiting upon the Lord to heal me when He was ready.  I kept thinking about how the Lord healed St. Padre Pio’s stigmata right before he died.  I thought the Lord could heal me at any moment, too.  Then, with the eyes of my heart, I saw Mary kiss my left knee, and Jesus kiss my right knee.  In an instant, the pain was gone from my knees!  Praise God! 

A few minutes later, I realized that the pain had merely moved to my thighs, which was still uncomfortable, but not as concentrated.  A few hours later, the pain completely left my body, and I had the best night sleep of the whole weekend!  Praise God!

I remember I was praying in particular for four people while I was sick, offering up my sufferings for them.  On the Tuesday after Easter, while praying the Sorrowful Mysteries of the rosary, I saw with the eyes of my heart, Jesus, carrying His Cross.  On top of the crossbeam were seated in a row, the four people I had been praying for.  Jesus was carrying them!  Jesus showed me that when they are in heaven, looking back at this time in their lives, they will see how God brought forth tremendous good out of their sufferings!

I also remember during prayer, for the love of Jesus, giving my sufferings to Mary, my holy Mother, like giving her a chalice.  I humbly and lovingly asked her to purify my sufferings, and offer them to God our Father for the salvation of souls.  I was wondering how Mary could purify my sufferings.  Then Jesus showed me during the Sorrowful Mysteries of the rosary that He offers His Own Blood for each and every person, and gives His Blood to Mary to purify the sufferings of each person before she offers our sufferings up to God our Father!  Wow!  I love how Jesus and Mary work so beautifully together for love of us, and wanting us to be with them forever in heaven.

I can’t help saying Happy Easter!   Jesus is Alive!   He is risen!   Halleluia!

Face to Face with Myself

          “Never before have I experienced a part of me dying as strongly as I do now.  I praise God because it is bringing me closer to Him.”

            I had written this in my journal at a time in my life when I struggled and changed deep within.  Because of my rigid morals and self-discipline, my life had become painfully empty.  Ever since I could remember, I had suffered from being too hard on myself.  I set high moral expectations of myself as well as high academic and track standards, but I never satisfied the demands upon me when I reached them.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not please myself.  I could not accept myself, nor could I love myself.  I tried everything I could to please other people, so that they would accept me, but deep down inside I silently cried just for me to love myself.

            In eighth grade, I was an honors student.  I was also a hermit.  Every day after track practice I would go home from school and do my homework until dinner, and then again until bedtime.  I did not have many friends, so I did not go out much.  I tried to do the best that I could in everything, especially in homework, so it did not surprise me that at the end of my eighth grade year I had the highest academic average out of the entire class.  I imagined it made my parents love me more, and maybe even my closest friends admired me more, but I still could not love or accept myself.

            After a while I really began to feel like I lived my life in vain.  Why did I try so hard, and aim so high?  For what purpose was I living when I could not even be happy with myself or anything I did?

            My life stood motionless, an empty structure, an empty frame.  Nothing seemed to have any meaning or definition.  I felt like a cold stone wall separating myself from true joy and true happiness, because I refused to embrace my other self with the love I cried out for day and night.

            Something blocked the way in order for me to come face to face with myself.  The foundation of my life, the morals, the discipline, and the coldness had to be cleared out first so that I could know the true warmth of love.  All my life I had avoided this moment, but now it was time to face up to it, no matter how scary, no matter how painful.

            I eagerly participated in a retreat weekend, at Cedarbrake.  I was excited to be with many people my age and to spend the weekend in a wooden lodge in the middle of a beautiful, green forest learning more about God and how to have a closer walk with the Lord.  I had been praying earlier for God to help me change my life.  I wanted to be free of the wall that separated me from loving myself and loving other people.  I thought that if I could love myself, I could be less severe in the demands I made upon myself.  I wanted to die to myself, to the part of me that had no mercy, so that I could live fully the life God intended me to have.  Up until now, my thoughts were mostly self-centered.  There was hardly any room to think about the cares and needs of the people around me.  I was always so worried about doing my homework and living up to my morals that I judged people more than I loved them.  I wanted to be less selfish, less judgmental of people, and more loving.  I had no idea what was about to take place.  I did not know that God would take my prayers so seriously.

            “Hi, Father Brennan.”

            “Hello, are you ready for your confession?”

            “Yes.”

            “O.K., now tell me what’s been on your mind?”

            “Well…lately I’ve been judging people, and I know it’s wrong.”

            “Can you tell me why you’ve been judging people?”

            “I think it’s because I have a set of morals that I measure people up with, and if they do things that I think are wrong, then I look down on them.”

            “Are you self-righteous?”

            “Very!  When I see people who do bad things, like watch videos, or wear a lot of make-up, or dress in the latest fashion, or gossip on the telephone, I think of myself as righteous compared to them because I don’t do those things.”

            “Is there anything else that’s been bothering you?”

            “Yes, I think the root of the whole problem is that I’ve always been so hard on myself.  I have these high expectations and demands that I try to live up to, but I’m never happy with myself when I do.”

            “It looks like to me that there is a lack of love.”

            “Yes, probably.”

            “Let’s pray for a while, then I want you to tell God that you are sorry…”  We prayed, and then Father Brennan waited for me to repent.

            “I’m trying.”

            “Let’s try again.”  He waited a long time.

            “I can’t.”  I stood to my feet and walked outside of the chapel and into the forest.

            Never in my entire life had I not been able to tell God I was sorry, until now.  How could I apologize for a part of me that was so ingrained into my being, that to rip it out would cause immense pain and suffering?  I would have to die to a part of me.  I would have to destroy the self-righteousness that was me.  From this moment on, my life was to change forever.  Horribly shocked, I came face to face with myself.  For the first time I came in contact with the dark side of my heart, my other self.  It was hideous.  How could this black, ugly, sinful thing be me?  Yet it was.  I had ignored it and suppressed it all my life.  I had tried to make myself believe it wasn’t there.  No, this could not be me.  Yes, it was.  Yes, I acknowledged it.  Yes, this is me.  I had always thought that I was almost perfect, nothing like what I saw now.  I always thought I was such a good person, and that I hardly sinned at all.  How could I have possibly known what I was really like on the inside?  Nothing in the world could hold back the tears that flooded my face.  What did God think of me?  He must have known all along.  He must have loved me anyway, knowing the darkness that was there in my heart.  How could I have been so blind for so long?

            I was kneeling in the rocks in the hot sun, trying to imagine God as a great, big merciful God, and crying bitterly over the anguish in my soul.

            “I can’t leave you like this.”  It was Father Brennan, walking back towards the lodge.

            “I’m trying to tell God I’m sorry.”

            “Things like this take time.  You can’t do it all at once.”  He helped me to my feet.

            “How long will it take?”

            “As long as it takes for God to give you an inner healing.”

            “Why does it have to be so painful?”

            “Because it’s growth, and growth is painful.”

            That night I fell silent before the Lord.  He planted a seed in my heart that was to grow and replace the former foundation and structure of my life.  The roots to this seed were strong enough to demolish the cold stone wall that separated myself from acceptance and love.  The leaves to this seed found sunshine not in my morals but in the love I was able to share with other people.  The stem grew up straight and tall, poking a hole through my highest expectation, and the flower that blossomed so beautifully expressed a whole new me.

Eucharistic Miracle

                I went on my first ACTS (Adoration, Community, Theology, Service) retreat twelve years ago.  It was our second Women’s ACTS retreat for our beloved parish.  Before the retreat, I didn’t think my walk with the Lord could get any better or closer.  I was so wrong!  It seems to me that God never runs out of intimate ways to reveal Himself to us.

                I had experienced many beautiful, powerful encounters with Jesus growing up in the Catholic Charismatic Renewal.  I participated in weekly prayer meetings with my mother, and then on my own in college, and after I got married.  I witnessed first hand God’s incredible healing love poured forth abundantly upon His people.  In amazement and wonder, I soaked it all in.  I went into the ACTS retreat convinced that my relationship with Jesus was all that it could be.  Little did I know that God’s will for me was quite different.  I cannot get over His tender mercy, faithfulness, and patience with me.

                The ACTS retreat was the perfect setting to draw even closer to God.  James 4:8a says, “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.”  I experienced Jesus drawing near both spiritually, on Saturday night, and physically on Sunday morning.

                During the dinner on Saturday night, I remember thinking that it would have been nice to drink wine instead of grape juice.  I literally had not slept for two nights due to my over-excitement just being at the retreat.  I acknowledged the small sacrifice we were making, by drinking grape juice, even though I would have preferred to make that evening more special with wine.

                Back in my room, I tried to fall asleep, and couldn’t.  I lay for several hours until finally I got down on my knees to pray, with the intention of asking Jesus why I couldn’t fall asleep.  That was all the Lord needed.  He had been waiting for me.  He had something new to show me.  In the Renewal, the Lord blessed many people with visions to confirm the reality of His love for us and to aid in our healing.  I had been content with the fact that I did not have the gift of seeing visions.  I figured that the Lord knew best what I needed, and that it wasn’t necessary for my faith in Jesus.

 But, Oh!, I didn’t know what I was missing!  James 1:17a says, “all good giving and every perfect gift  is from above, coming down from the Father of lights,…”  My spiritual life took on a whole new dimension that night.  I could see things with the eyes of my heart that I could not see before.  My prayer life will never be the same.  Luke 11:13 says, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?"

On Sunday morning at the 10:30 return Mass in the cafeteria, Jesus drew near once again.  I will never forget the tears of joy in her eyes, when a dear friend of mine, who had been at the retreat and who was a Eucharistic Minister, told me how afraid she was of running out of wine during Holy Communion.  She only had two sips left in the chalice, and she still had a long line of retreatants to serve.  The tears ran down her cheeks as she told me how the cup of wine, Jesus’ Blood, did not run dry.  She kept looking into the chalice, expecting it to be empty, but there was always enough wine for the next person.  I recalled the sensation of wine bubbling up from the bottom of the cup when I took a sip.  I was struck by the thought that Jesus took our grape juice sacrifice over the weekend, and turned it into an abundant wine blessing, a miracle!

                I learned from my ACTS retreat that there are new heights of joy to discover in knowing Jesus.  There are surprising depths of love yet to experience, and there is an unshakable peace in seeking and doing God’s will that never grows old.

Emmanuel - God With Us

                My Lord prepared my heart to receive Him at Christmas last Advent.  I love how He gently leads, guides, and then surprises me.  I went on a silent retreat the weekend before Thanksgiving, not knowing what to expect.  I came away from that precious time with my Lord, knowing that I still had an emotional and psychological wound that I thought had been healed, but my Lord showed me how He wanted to step in to heal me in an even deeper way.

                During the retreat Sister Miriam showed us live footage of our beloved Pope Francis closing the Holy Doors at the end of the Year of Mercy.  The fruit of my quiet prayer time was the awareness of my thirsty need to know God the Father’s love for me.  Now that the Holy Doors were closed, and I couldn’t physically walk into the Heart of God, my Father, I invited God the Father to come dwell in my heart, that I may dwell in His Heart.

 Later in prayer, I understood that all the people who entered through the Holy Doors in all the Catholic churches throughout the world, were actually entering into God the Father’s Heart, and they were purified, so that now, after the Holy Doors are closed, God the Father will enter into their hearts so that He will dwell in them, Emmanuel, and act through them to do His Most Holy and Precious Will throughout the whole world!

A few weeks later, our parish had a three-day Mission given by Father Pat Martin, a blessedly blind priest who, for thirty-eight years, daily prayed his rosary as soon as he awoke, saying, “Mary, help me to see God’s love for me today,” after each Our Father prayer of each decade of the rosary.  I was so grateful for the opportunity to go to confession with him.  I told him how I still had this wound in my heart and soul.  He raised his voice to my surprise, and said that I will always have this wound, even into all eternity!  I was shocked!

Little by little I began to understand the truth of what he said.  I used to think when God healed me of something, that the wound would not be there anymore.  Since my pain was gone, I thought my wound was gone, too.  I considered Jesus’ Wounds, on His Hands, Feet, and Side.  Even in His Glorified and Resurrected Body, Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”  (John 20:27)

I realized that I have a unique landscape of wounds in my heart and soul that nobody else has.  These are my wounds, and nobody else’s!   Maybe this is how God identifies me.  Maybe my wounds are like stars in a constellation, or “the indelible spiritual mark” of my baptism (CCC #1272), that cannot be erased, and that prove I belong to Christ.  Maybe my wounds are actually gifts, places in my heart and soul where Jesus enters in to be with me, Emmanuel, in my sufferings, and to heal me.

I could see and feel for once in my life that Jesus dwelling in my wounds could be more than enough strength I need to conquer my fears with love, and to give myself in loving service to others, completely and unconditionally, like Jesus did for me on the Cross.  Father Martin said I could even love those who don’t deserve my love!

At Mass on the fourth Sunday of Advent, I was struck by the words in the gospel, “’Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel’ (which means, God with us.)”  (Matthew 1:23)  I was thinking about how the power of the Holy Spirit, the giver of life, overshadowed Mary, a virgin, to form the physical Body of Jesus, her son, who was truly with her.  During the consecration of the Holy Eucharist, I was also struck by the, “Holy Spirit coming down like the dew fall,” to overshadow the Host and transform it into the physical Body of Jesus, so that Jesus can be truly with us, Emmanuel.

 I was reminded of the Sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, when we are baptized by the Holy Spirit.  Our virginal hearts and souls (cleansed and purified by Jesus’ Precious Blood) are overshadowed by the Holy Spirit, and Jesus is truly present with us, Emmanuel, and born into our hearts! (…a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Emmanuel)  Jesus isn’t just born on Christmas Day.