Encounter

123Before you fly away from your humdrum life into another romantic vampire story, consider this…

As such, you can imagine that I am very fond of romance. A lot of us are. I am also single. Not being a hideous goblin (no girl is), I could get a boyfriend easily enough. The question is: what are my standards?

I am a soldier of Christ and willing to fight to defend the truth. An important part of this truth is Christian marriage and sexuality. This topic is scorned by society at large, hence my lack of male companionship. If I am going to date, my minimum requirement is respect for my faith and boundaries. This is hard to find, but I?m not lowering my standards. I?ll tell you why.
Shocking Truth!
Forgive my bluntness. Girls my age are turned into easily- accessible entertainment for any male with eyes. In the name of empowerment, women are told to ?dress how they want?. Translation: dress in the way those creepy guys on the street like. Virginity is a shameful secret. Any who dare suggest a sense of the sacred around women, marriage, or sex are evil misogynists. Poor female minors, enslaved by self-respect and safety.

One useful tool for turning women into commodities, products, or slaves is young adult fiction. Every time I open a YA book, I see this:

?McKayla is just an ordinary, plain girl with flawless skin and hair. Except she has a dark, mysterious past. ~insert stereotype. Evil or negligent parents are preferable.~ Then she meets… Brad. He?s dark, brooding, and impossibly hot (of course). What will happen, and will their mysterious connection win out against all odds?!?

Next, you get to watch McKayla describe Brad in agonizing detail every three pages. She inevitably gets mixed up with him. He?s an assassin, a vampire, or preferably both. McKayla gets sucked into a dangerous relationship. Vampire cults are encouraged. Brad will attack her, pressure her, and attempt a seduction. He will go through periods of cruelty, the silent treatment, and possessiveness, interspersed with passionate statements about his love for her. Because of this passion, our heroine will gladly cut out every healthy influence in her life, following her ?true love? like a lamb to the slaughter.

Something about this feels just the tiniest bit off, doesn?t it? No? Is it only me who thinks it?s a romanticization of abuse?

Alas, I am not exaggerating or joking. Here?s a paraphrase of a random page from a teen novel I picked up: ?I couldn?t quite forget that he had tried to stab me with a knife ten minutes ago, but I couldn?t take my eyes off how hot Jason looked in those white jeans. His hair was… his muscles were…? Etc., etc., etc., another uncomfortably detailed ogling of our darling attempted murderer.

I started the next book at the beginning. Page one was from the perspective of a male vampire prostitute. A girl comes and gives him money. She bares her throat for him to bite. He begins rubbing her thighs and pretending to groan in excitement. I close the book.

Finally, in a very popular YA novel, the male lead breaks into the girl?s house and watches her sleep. Oh, how romantic!

No Compromise

?Books like this groom young women to be the slaves and tools of evil men. Nothing is sadder than a young girl staying with a man who abuses her because he ?loves? her. She thinks she can change him, or worse, sees nothing wrong at all. In a way, these men really are vampires. They will drain a girl of her self-respect, her virginity, and anything else they convince her to fork over. They leave their victims sucked dry in the dust.

Where does this start? What makes women believe the lies? The shameless and evil romanticism attached to abuse, seen in the media, in movies, in the teen section of the most innocent public library. There isn?t even any bad logic in it, just malice.

Marriage and sexuality are created by God and built on love. Love is built on respect, self-sacrifice, and honesty. Marriage is a union of equals, not a predator-prey relationship. Here?s a hint: this should be obvious.

Still not convinced of the damage this attitude causes? Well, no hard feelings. I mean, I?m just a teenager watching this happen. Who can we ask about this? Hey, what about Mom and Grandma? They?re pretty experienced… oh wait. Everyone knows that no one born before the 2000?s can have anything useful to say on this (or any) topic. Of course today?s youth know better than to honour their father and mother. My bad.

Alright, No more complaining. This shouldn?t be all problems and no solutions. We can still make progress in the right direction. The world might be dark, but luckily for us, the light of Christ is easier to see in the dark anyway. We, as Christians, need to fight for the concept of true love. It still exists. My parents show it. When you see an eighty-year-old couple still holding hands, remember. When you go to a wedding, remember. When you see a couple choosing children over wealth, remember. And hey, girls like me?Christian teenagers who just can?t seem to find a partner who will respect you! Don?t give up. Don?t settle for a dark, brooding guy who?ll suck you dry. Look for true love, cheesy as it might seem. It?s real. We have it every Sunday in the Eucharist. We deserve this self-respect. We deserve a partner willing to honor Christ and see Christ in us. It will be worth it.

And quit reading those vampire novels.

Through the darkest valleys and toughest nights, Belinda heard a voice that kept calling her back.

My mother walked out on us when I was around eleven. At the time, I thought that she left because she didn’t want me. But in fact, after years of silently suffering through marital abuse, she couldn?t hold on anymore. As much as she wanted to save us, my father had threatened to kill her if she took us with her. It was too much to take in at such a young age, and as I was striving hard to navigate through this difficult time, my father started a cycle of abuse that would haunt me for years to come.
Valleys and Hills
To numb the pain of my father?s abuse and compensate for the loneliness of my mother?s abandonment, I started resorting to all kinds of ?relief? mechanisms. And at a point when I couldn?t stand the abuse anymore, I ran away with Charles, my boyfriend from school. I reconnected with my mother during this time and lived with her and her new husband for a while.
At 17, I married Charles. His family had a history of incarceration, and he followed suit soon enough. I kept hanging out with the same bunch of people, and eventually, I, too, fell into crime. At 19, I got sentenced to prison for the first time?five years for aggravated assault.
In prison, I felt more alone than I had ever been in my life. Everyone who was supposed to love and nurture me had abandoned me, used me, and abused me. I remember giving up, even trying to end my life. For a long time, I kept on spiraling downwards until I met Sharon and Joyce. They had given their lives to the Lord. Though I had no clue about Jesus, I thought I’d give it a try as I didn’t have anything else. There, trapped inside those walls, I started a new life with Christ.
Falling, Rising, Learning?
About a year and a half into my sentence, I came up for parole. Somehow in my heart, I just knew I was going to make parole because I’d been living for Jesus. I felt like I was doing all the right things, so when the denial came back with a year set off, I just didn’t understand. I started questioning God and was quite angry.
It was at this time that I was transferred to another correctional facility. At the end of the church services, when the chaplain reached out for a handshake, I flinched and withdrew. He was a Spirit-filled man, and the Holy Spirit had shown him that I had been hurt. The next morning, he asked to see me. There in his office, as he asked about what had happened to me and how I was hurting, I opened up and shared for the first time in my life.
Finally, out of prison and in private rehab, I started a job and was slowly getting a hold on my new life when I met Steven. I started going out with him, and we got pregnant. I remember being excited about it. As he wanted to make it right, we got married and started a family. That marked the beginning of probably the worst 17 years of my life, marked by his physical abuse and infidelity and the continuing influence of drugs and crime.
He would even go on to hurt our kids, and this once sent me into a rage?I wanted to shoot him. At that moment, I heard these verses: ?Vengeance is mine, I will repay.? (Romans 12:19) and ?The Lord will fight for you? (Exodus 14:1), and that prompted me to let him go.
Never a Criminal
I was never able to be a criminal for long; God would just arrest me and try to get me back on track. In spite of His repeated efforts, I wasn’t living for Him. I always kept God back, although I knew He was there. After a series of arrests and releases, I finally came home for good in 1996. I got back in touch with the Church and finally started building a true and sincere relationship with Jesus. The Church slowly became my life; I never really had that kind of a relationship with Jesus before.
I just couldn’t get enough of it because I started to see that it’s not the things that I’ve done but who I am in Christ that’s going to keep me on this road. But, the real conversion happened with Bridges to Life*.
How can I Not?
Even though I hadn?t been a participant in the program as an offender, being able to facilitate in those small groups was a blessing I hadn?t anticipated?one that would change my life in beautiful ways. When I heard other women and men share their stories, something clicked inside of me. It affirmed me that I was not the only one and encouraged me to show up time and again. I would be so tired and worn out from work, but I would walk into the prisons and just be rejuvenated because I knew that that was where I was supposed to be.
Bridges to Life is about learning to forgive yourself; not only did helping others help me become whole, it also helped me heal?and I am still healing.
First, it was my mother. She had cancer, and I brought her home; I looked after her for as long as she stayed until she passed away peacefully at my home. In 2005, my father?s cancer came back, and the doctors estimated he had at most six months. I brought him home too. Everybody told me not to take in this man after what he did to me. I asked: ?how can I not?? Jesus forgave me, and I feel that God would want me to do this.
Had I chosen to hold on to the bitterness or hatred toward my parents for the abandonment and the abuse, I don’t know if they would have given their lives to the Lord. Just looking back over my life, I see how Jesus kept pursuing me and trying to help me. I was so resistant to feeling what was new, and it was so easy to stay in what was comfortable, but I am grateful to Jesus that I was able to finally completely surrender to Him. He is my Savior, He is my rock, and He is my friend. I just cannot imagine a life without Jesus.

* A faith-based program ministering to victims and offenders alike, focusing on the transforming power of God?s love and forgiveness l

Make a choice to take a chance and your life will never be the same

As family prayer concluded,?we took up the Bible to read from the prophet Jeremiah, chapter 3. As I was reading, my thoughts flew back to the dark days when I fell into depression. Those were the days when the voice of the evil one echoed crystal clear in my head, insinuating that I was so unworthy of love, that even God would reject me. Sadly, I thought it was true. In the midst of my sorrows and tears I would go to church, not because I thought I was loved but because my parents wouldn?t let me stay home. Half-heartedly going through the motions as I reluctantly loitered in the church, I didn?t realize that Someone was constantly beckoning me to return with a whole heart. God persistently called me to repentance.

God Speaks

It?s so true that God gives us a multitude of chances to make the right choices. He spoke to me through priests, laity, dreams and quotes. Over and over again, I received the same message?God truly loved me. He didn?t want me to fall prey to Satan?s lies. He wanted me to know that I am His daughter, no matter what and He relentlessly called me back to Him. During one of those difficult days, I picked up my Bible and it fell open at Jeremiah, chapter 3. Tears glistened in my eyes as they alighted on these words:

I thought how I would set you among my children, and give you a pleasant land, the most beautiful heritage of all the nations. And I thought you would call me, My Father, and would not turn away from following me.

Jeremiah 3:19

I read it over and over again. Tears rolled down my cheeks and fell unchecked in fat drops onto the open pages of my Bible.

Realm of Truth

?What?s wrong with me?? I wondered to myself. ?Why did these words touch me so deeply?? It was as if my heart was being pierced with the burning dart of God?s love, breaking through the hard shell that had formed around me, awaking me from my cold indifference.

God had given me so much, but what had I given back?

?And I thought you would call me, My Father, and would not turn away from following me.?

The sorrow in those words is palpable. ?I thought you would call me, My Father.?

A loving Father, bewildered that His daughter has turned away and refuses to call on Him, yearns to hear her say, ?My Father?.

My God, my God, why did I abandon You? He is my Father. He has always been my Father and He never stopped loving me and cherishing me, even when I?refused to call Him ?My Father?.

?And I thought you would call me, My Father, and would not turn away from following me.?
I had turned away. I had taken my eyes off Him and stopped following Him. I had let go of my Father?s hand, strayed from the path on which He could lead me safely through my troubles. He trusted me, but I let Him down. My loving Father in Heaven was heartbroken that I, His beloved daughter had abandoned Him.

Loved Beyond Measure

I sobbed uncontrollably, overwhelmed at the realization that my Father had been there for me all along, patiently waiting for me to call Him. I had been so blind, obstinately closing my eyes to ignore His presence. Now, I finally opened them to find Him right there, waiting to meet me with open arms. I felt enfolded within His embrace at last and I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders.

We are so familiar with Jesus, that we don?t often reflect on God, the Father.?Close your eyes and picture Him, not as an old man with a beard, or a distant monarch, but as the loving Father waiting for all His prodigal children to come home.

This is the Father who loves His adopted children so dearly that He sent His only Son?to redeem us from our sins. He is One with His Son. Every hammer blow, every stroke of the whip, every rasping breath that Jesus suffered on the Cross was shared with His Father. Through all eternity, He knew what suffering Jesus would willingly bear for our sake.

In the movie The Passion of the Christ, right after Jesus death, a single drop falls from the sky with a mighty splash. To my heart, it portrayed the silent tears of my Father in Heaven, who suffered silently with His Son through the whole ordeal. Why? For me. For you. For every last sinner. The Father is waiting for every last one of us to turn back to Him so that He can accept us back into His warm embrace where we will always be welcome. He stands waiting to wipe every tear from our faces, to wash us clean from the mire of sin and to wrap us in the cloak of His Divine Love.

Dear Father, thank you for helping me to finally realize that You love me unconditionally. For all the moments of doubt and disbelief, I beg Your pardon. Open the eyes of every single one of us, that we may come to know Your love for us. Through Our Lord Jesus Christ, Your most beloved Son. Amen.

We all wrestle with God at one point or another, but when do we really attain peace?

Recently, a struggling friend told me: ?I do not even know what to pray for.? She wanted to pray but was growing weary of asking for something that was not coming. I immediately thought of Saint Peter Julian Eymard?s Eucharistic Way of Prayer. He invites us to model our prayer time after the four ends of the Mass: Adoration, Thanksgiving, Atonement, and Petition.
A Better Way
Prayer is more than asking, yet there are times when our needs and worries about our loved ones are so pressing that we do nothing but ask, ask, plead, and then ask some more. We might say: ?Jesus, I leave this in your hands,? but 30 seconds later, we grab it right out of His hands to explain why we need it again. We worry, fret, and lose sleep. We don?t stop asking long enough to hear what God might be trying to whisper to our weary hearts. We go around like this for a while, and God lets us. He waits for us to wear ourselves out, to realize that we are not asking Him to help us, but we are trying to tell Him how we think He needs to help us. When we grow tired of wrestling and finally surrender, we learn a better way to pray.
In his letter to the Philippians, Saint Paul instructs us on how we should approach our petitions to God: ?Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.? (4:6-7)
Combat the Lies
Why do we worry? Why do we get anxious? Because, like Saint Peter, who stopped looking at Jesus and began to sink (Matthew 14:22-33), we too lose sight of the Truth and choose to listen to the lies. At the root of every anxious thought lies a big lie?that God will not take care of me, that whatever problem worries me now is bigger than God, that God will abandon me and forget me?that I don?t have a loving Father after all.
How do we combat these lies? With the TRUTH.
?We must simplify the work of our mind by a simple and calm view of God?s truths,? reminds St. Peter Julian Eymard.
What is the truth? I like Saint Mother Teresa?s answer: ?Humility is truth.? The Catechism tells us that ?humility is the foundation of prayer.? Prayer is raising our hearts and minds to God. It is a conversation, a relationship. I can?t be in a relationship with someone I do not know. When we begin our prayer with humility, we acknowledge the truth of Who God is and of who we are. We recognize that, on our own, we are nothing but sin and misery but that God has made us his children and that in Him, we can do all things (Philippians 4:13).
It is that humility, that truth, that brings us to first adoration, then thanksgiving, then repentance, and finally to petition. It is the natural progression of one who is completely dependent on God. So when we don?t know what to say to God, let us bless Him and praise His name. Let us think of all the blessings and thank Him for all He has done for us. This will help us trust that this same God, who has always been with us, is still here today and is always for us through good times and difficult times.

As the weeks rolled by with my husband working from home, putting us together 24 hours a day, I found myself once again feeling like a volcano about to erupt…Little did I know then how quarantine would change my life?

It was the spring of 2020 and Covid-19 had spread throughout the country and much of the world. It was a time when quarantine changed my life. We were adapting to new phrases like ?social distancing,? and ?sheltering in place.? And connecting to others was limited to the use of technology. Thus, a friend of mine encouraged me and some other friends to join her for an online Bible study, pandemic-style. After watching sections of a video and reading portions of the book that accompanied it, we?d text our thoughts and comments to one another.

In the first chapter of the study I came across the word ?forbearance.? Despite having been a student of Scripture for years, I realized this term was not a part of my lexicon! It was not unfamiliar to me, as I?d come across it throughout the Bible, but the word forbearance seemed better suited to another time in history. The author described this virtue as the ability to hold back one?s power, even if one has the authority to use it, for the greater good that may not be evident to the one seeking relief. She offered a metaphor to explain: imagine God having two arms, both powerful. While stretching out His right arm to exert power, He at times uses his left arm to pull the other hand back, so as to prevent its strength being wielded.

I shared this insight on the group text. One participant responded that ?He cares enough to allow me to struggle and find deeper understanding and connection to His heart.? I?d seen this very thing in my life over and over through the years. The 40 years I?d worked in healthcare seemed to parallel the 40 years the Israelites wandered in the desert. Grumbling and complaining marked each of our respective journeys yet the Lord continued to provide for my needs and those of the Israelites and taught us obedience which resulted in patience, one of the ?fruits of the Spirit.?

Over time, patience has become a habit and I rarely express irritation or anger verbally anymore?at least outside the doors of my home! While I had made progress even within my home, I still found it to be the place that triggered my darker angels. Although I was blessed with a good and loving husband, his switch to working from home due to quarantine required an unexpected adjustment to being together 24 hours a day.

As the weeks together wore on, I found myself once again feeling like a volcano about to erupt. I tried to suppress it, but when for what seemed like the hundredth time Dan knocked a full glass of tea, ice cubes and all, onto the end table, I exploded and ran to grab towel. When I later apologized, I remembered what my husband told a representative from the Big Sisters organization who had called for a spousal referral to determine my suitability as a volunteer. In response to my curiosity about the content of their lengthy conversation he replied, ?I said lots of nice things about you. They did ask me if I thought you were a patient person. I told them you are very patient…with everyone but me!? As we chuckled together, both recognizing the truth in his statement, I realized that in the area of patience, God isn?t finished with me yet.

Since retiring, I had adopted a routine of walking in the neighborhood each morning. The exercise kept my thoughts focused as I poured out my heart to the Lord each day. I confessed my impatience, asked forgiveness, listed my husband?s good qualities, and thanked God for him. What I couldn?t seem to do was exercise forbearance! I obviously wasn?t exhibiting the dictionary?s definition of ?patient self-control, restraint and tolerance!? One morning, after another frustrating day of my husband working from home, I laid it all out as I prayed. ?Lord, I have tried every way I know how to pray about this. I surrender to Your work in my life; make me a truly patient person with everyone, even my husband. I?ve done what I can; now I ask You to do in me what I cannot do in myself.?

As the day ended, I happened to glance at the stack of devotionals on the end table. One of the books maybe sixth or seventh from the top caught my eye. I hadn?t opened it in some time, and didn?t even remember what it was titled. Still, I was drawn to it. It was called, ?Biblical Homilies,? by Karl Rahner, a noted German theologian. I opened the volume to where a bookmark lay and laughed at the title on the page: ?If You Can Put Up With Him, So Can I.?

Fr. Rahner cited 1 Peter 3: 8-9: ?Finally, all of you be of one mind, sympathetic, loving toward one another, compassionate, humble. Do not return evil for evil, or insult for insult; but, on the contrary, a blessing, because to this you were called, that you might inherit a blessing.? I read the sermon that followed:

?This harmony and concord, then, is interpreted to mean that we must be united in prayer. No doubt the letter of St. Peter refers to a general disposition to get on with people.? This idea is obvious enough. We know only too well what a trial we are to each other.? (I paused…how did Fr. Rahner know what was going on in my house?!) ?We are so different from one another: we have had different experiences, we are of different temperaments, of different origins, we come from different families, we have different talents and different jobs to do?small wonder if it is difficult for us all to be of one mind. We have different views and we understand each other imperfectly. And being so very different from other people we well may grate on them, unconsciously weary them with what we are, what we think, what we do, what we feel. Mutual harmony and comprehension, being of one mind, is difficult for us. Now we can only live together and bear with each other, bear one another?s burdens, if we do our best to be of one mind, if we are self-effacing and self-possessed, if we can hold our tongue even when we are right,? (now I was sure this priest had been peering at me through the window these last weeks!) ?if we can let the other man be himself and give him his due, if we refrain from rash judgment and are patient.? (There was that word again!) ?Then it becomes possible, at least in a rough and ready way, to be of one mind. We may not achieve empathy together, but we can be of one mind in Christian forbearance,? (FORBEARANCE!!! The word I never examined or considered until a week or so ago!) ?each bearing the other?s burden. This means that I bear the burden the other man is to me simply by being himself, because I know I am a burden to him simply by being myself.?

I already knew I couldn?t change anyone but myself, and that didn’t seem to be going so well either! Seeing it spelled out so clearly, as given, brought the pieces together. Dan always worked hard to show me he loved me, despite my frailty. He lived the law of love for me. I looked online to find references to ?forbearance? in scripture. Turns out, there were different translations of the word, based on the culture and time when each was compiled?Long-suffering, patience that endures, great-heartedness, even ?developing a willingness to stick with things?. My response toward Dan felt like ?long-suffering,? while his toward me looked much more like ?great-heartedness.? We had found very different ways to incarnate the same virtue.

I remembered the definition of forbearance I?d heard in the bible-study video: the ability to hold back one?s power, even if one has the authority to use it, for the greater good that may not be evident to the one seeking relief. It was the same lesson I?d learned through years of practicing physical therapy?calm responses made greater difference over time. Without taking time to comprehend what was driving a patient?s resistance to treatment, there would be no progress. Once they knew I understood them, my patients? transformation would begin. Their progress was well worth my extra effort.

I saw now that God was asking me to hold back my power–whether my tongue or my thoughts–for the greater good of our marriage. I had been ?seeking relief;? but couldn?t see how it would come. With this realization, quarantine changed my life?by bearing the burden of the one to whom I had promised to be true, in good times and in bad, to love and honor all the days of my life, just as he did for me. How would I practice forbearance? Glancing at a picture of my husband, I knew: the example was right before my eyes.

During the 14th century Siena?s magistrates had sentenced two hardened criminals to a brutal public death. They were driven about town in a cart while executioners tore at their bodies with red-hot pincers. The condemned men showed no trace of remorse for their crimes and spat curses and blasphemies at the people who lined the streets. They had refused to speak with the priests who had offered to prepare them for death.

Catherine of Siena happened to be visiting a friend who lived on one of the roads the cart had to travel. While she stood at the window observing the terrible scene, Catherine was moved by compassion. In her mind?s eye, she saw a mob of demons waiting to punish the condemned men even more sadistically in hell.

Immediately, she began to pray for the two unfortunates. ?My most merciful Lord,? she said with her characteristic frankness, ?why do you show such contempt for your own creatures? Why are you letting them suffer such torture now? And even more vicious torture by these hellish spirits??

Catherine never beat around the bush, even in conversations with God.

To the amazement of all, both criminals suddenly stopped shouting curses and cried out for a priest. They wept and confessed their sins to him. The crucified Christ, they claimed, had appeared to them urging repentance and offering forgiveness. They told the crowd that they expected to be with Christ in Heaven, and then they submitted peacefully to their execution. This miraculous turn of events mystified the whole town, but Catherine?s close friends knew that she had intervened in some way. For many days after the dramatic conversions, Saint Catherine of Siena was heard to say, ?Thank you, Lord, for saving them from a second prison.?

God?s merciful loves waits for us to turn back to Him. No matter how grave our sins, He longs to embrace us and draw us into His everlasting peace. Would you say ?yes? to His call today by making a good confession with a truly repentant heart? Surely, the Kingdom of God belongs to you!

Fear can paralyze us. Fear about family matters. Fear about health. Fear about career. Fear about the future. Many of us carry around such fears. One day I felt so full of fears that I could feel them weighing me down. My jaws felt tight, my throat felt dry, and I could feel my entire body tense up. I felt helpless, as if the challenges that lay ahead of me were an enormous mountain blocking my way forward.

?LORD, HELP ME!? I shouted from the depths of my heart. In my distress, I sobbed out all my fears to the Lord. In answer the word, ?Remember? resonated through me. I hunted around for a pen and paper to write down the words pouring out of me, one after another: Remember the miraculous way the Lord God Almighty granted you your first job.

Remember the time you called out to the Lord for help, and He responded immediately.

Remember the beauty of His creation that surrounds you everywhere. The floodgates opened up. Every memory etched gratitude to the Lord deeper into my heart for His never-ending faithfulness and goodness. And I continued to write. Remember how the Lord answered your prayers and granted you virtuous friendships.

Remember how He brought the right people into your life when you needed them most.

Remember. Remember. Remember the faithfulness of the Lord, Sherin! The more I wrote, the more I recalled His faithfulness and presence in my life. After writing three pages worth of these memories, I paused and reread all that I had written. I realized how quickly I had forgotten His steadfast love for me when I was faced with new challenges.

Filled with deep gratitude, I wanted to hold onto these memories of His faithfulness. So, I grabbed my cell phone and took photos of the pages I had filled and I set it as the home screen on my phone. Every time I picked up my phone throughout the day, I was reminded yet again of His faithfulness. Doing so brought a sense of peace and reassurance that no problem is too big for my Lord and my God. This greater trust in the Lord induced a state of calmness and stillness as I went about my daily tasks.

The Voice Message

?Two or three days later, I unexpectedly received a voice message from a good friend who had no idea of my recent prayer experience. He mentioned an old Christmas card that I had written to him six years ago and pointed out a single line I had written in that card. ?The Lord Remembers. Daniel 14: 38?. The Lord remembers? What is my friend talking about? I was clueless. I went straight to the source?my Bible, quickly flipping through the pages to Daniel 14:38. ?And Daniel said, ?You have remembered me, O God; and have not forsaken those who love you.? Daniel 14:38

The timing and content of my friend?s message left me speechless. In the depths of my heart, I felt as if the Lord had responded to me through my friend?s voice message. The message was clear. My Lord remembers me too, just as I try my best to remember Him and His faithfulness.

The pain was excruciating but I still held on to this anchor of hope and I did experience a miracle!

I was 40 years old when I was diagnosed with Charcot- Marie-Tooth Disease (CMT), an inherited progressive peripheral neuropathy (damage to the peripheral nervous system). I finally knew why I always dreaded going to my PE class at school, why I fell so often, why I was so slow. I always had CMT; I just didn?t know it. By the time I was referred to a neurologist, the muscles in my legs had begun to atrophy, and I couldn?t climb steps without pulling myself up.

The relief of having an answer was clouded by concern about what the future would hold. Would I end up in a wheelchair? Would I lose the use of my hands? Would I be able to care for myself? With the diagnosis, darkness came over me. I learned there is no treatment, no cure. What I heard between the lines was, ?there is no hope?. But little by little, like the morning sun peeking through the blinds, the light of hope gently woke me from the stupor of grief, like a miracle of hope. I realized nothing had changed; I was still the same. I grabbed on to the hope that the progression would continue to be slow, giving me time to adjust. And it did?until it did not.

I experienced a slow, gradual progression of the disease for four years, but then, one summer, it suddenly got worse. Tests confirmed that my condition had inexplicably progressed. When we went out, I had to be in a wheelchair. Even at home, there was little I could do. I couldn?t stand up for more than a couple of minutes at a time. I couldn?t use my hands to open jars or to cut or chop. Even sitting up for more than a few minutes was difficult. The level of pain and weakness forced me to spend most of my time in bed. I was filled with enormous grief as I dealt with the reality of losing the ability to care for myself and for my family. Yet, I had an extraordinary grace during that time.

I was able to attend Daily Mass. And, during those drives, I began a new habit?I prayed the Rosary in the car. For some time, I had wanted to pray the Rosary daily, but I could not get into a routine and make it last. These daily drives fixed that. It was a time of great struggle and pain but also a time of great grace. I found myself devouring Catholic books and stories of the lives of the Saints.

One day, doing research for a talk on the Rosary, I came upon the story of Venerable Fr. Patrick Peyton, C.S.C., who was healed from tuberculosis after asking Mary for her intercession. He spent the rest of his life promoting family prayer and the Rosary. I watched clips on YouTube about these massive rosary rallies he would hold?sometimes, over one million people would show up to pray. I was deeply moved by what I saw, and in a moment of zeal, I asked Mary to heal me too. I promised her that I would promote the Rosary and do rallies and marathons, like Fr. Peyton did. I forgot about this conversation until a few days after I had given my talk.

It was a Monday morning, and I went to Mass as usual, but something was different when I returned home. Rather than going back to bed, I went to the living room and began cleaning up. It was not until my perplexed husband asked me what I was doing that I realized all my pain was gone. I immediately recalled a dream I had the night before: A priest robed in light came to me and administered the Anointing of the Sick. As he traced the Sign of the Cross in my hands with oil, warmth and a deep sense of peace enveloped my whole being. And then I remembered?I had asked Mary to heal me. The miracle of hope did happen and after five months in bed, all my pain was gone. I still have CMT, but I was restored to where I had been five months before.

Since then, I have spent my time in thanksgiving, promoting the Rosary and telling everyone about God?s love. I believe Mary sent this priest to anoint and heal me, though in a different way than what I thought. I didn?t realize it at the time, but when I grabbed on to hope, I was really grabbing on to God. He healed my body, but He also healed my soul. I know He hears me; I know He sees me. I know He loves me, and I am not alone. Ask Him for what you need. He loves you; He sees you?You are not alone.

The very thing that turned me away from the Church brought me back wholeheartedly! This is my side of the story?

Born and raised in Philadelphia, I attended a Catholic school like most of my friends. Our family attended Mass only on Christmas and Easter. I learned about the sacraments in school, but mostly I memorized the correct answers to get them right on a test. I was a good kid. I didn?t struggle with any major sins. My friends teased that I?d probably become a nun because I was such a goodie two-shoes. But I wasn?t connecting well with my faith. And after a bad confession experience in fourth grade, I decided never to return. I turned away from the Church.

After high school I worked as a server at the Olive Garden. One of my coworkers was an incredibly handsome guy named Keith. A talented musician and a strong Christian, Keith invited me to his non-denominational church, and I loved it. We attended together often, but soon Keith accepted a position as a youth pastor in his home state of Iowa. We missed each other terribly, so I followed him. We married in 1996, and everything was perfect: Keith loved his job at the church: the congregation took wonderful care of us, we had three beautiful children, and I loved us being a pastor?s family. We served there and at a handful of other churches for two decades. Ministry had its ups and downs, but we loved it.

The Tipping Point

Then, after 22 years as a pastor, Keith announced one day, ?I think God is calling me to quit my job and convert to Catholicism.? I was shocked, even as I learned that he had been privately considering Catholicism for a long time. He had read books about Catholicism and discussed the faith with priests and catholic friends. What he discovered about the Church Fathers, the sacraments, and the papacy had shaken him to his core, but he had kept going. I loved his new excitement, but I wasn?t interested and didn?t think he?d go through with it. There was no way the Keith I knew would convert to the dull and lifeless religion of my upbringing. But the more I noticed Keith light up when he spoke about converting, the more I panicked. The kids were getting older and had grown up in churches they loved; even if we wanted to, we couldn?t make them convert. ?God can?t want to divide our home,? I thought?

How could I go back to what meant so little to me as a child, especially since my new Protestant faith kept me fulfilled. I?d need to work through things like Confession?something I never wanted to do again. I secretly hoped this was just a phase Keith would soon get over. The tipping point for Keith came after a Catholic apologetics talk where he felt God speaking directly to him. He came home and said, ?That?s it, I?m doing this. I?m converting. I don?t know what we will do for money, but I know that God is calling me to this; we will figure it out.? The next day, he told his church he was resigning. Now I had to decide what to do.

After months of prayer, I ultimately followed Keith to the Catholic Church. I felt it was best for our kids to see their mom follow their dad?s lead in faith, but they decided to stay at their Protestant churches. It was exciting to see Keith so passionate about his conversion, but I had a more challenging time than I thought I would. I cried at every Mass for about three months. Our family had worshipped together for the past 22 years. Now, we were painfully scattered. In addition, I was upset that Keith wasn?t using his gifts for ministry in the Catholic Church. Since God called him to quit his job, I expected there?d be an incredible ministry waiting for him. I believed God had a plan for Keith, but what was it? Keith was content attending Mass and soaking it all in, but I wanted to see God use him in some new way.

A Wonderful Trip

After a few months of attending Mass, I became more open to the faith. I started asking questions and learning why we do what we do. I began opening my heart to the Mass and started loving it. The people in our parish were beautiful examples of what being Catholic is all about. I loved the scripture-filled Mass, the incense, holy water, and sacraments. I loved the devotions, and of course, the Eucharist. Had I learned more about the Eucharist as a child, I couldn?t have walked away so easily.

During the summer after our conversion, a friend invited us to go to Medjugorje. Keith had gone years before and had a wonderful experience. We were both excited to go, especially when we realized we?d be there on the first anniversary of Keith entering the Catholic Church. What a great way to celebrate. I realized that we had become so busy with life, work, and family that perhaps we hadn?t heard from God about the future because we hadn?t taken the time to stop and listen. ?Maybe in Medjugorje God will talk to us about his plan for our life,? I thought. The trip was a powerful experience, but I wasn?t hearing God speaking to me about our future. I started getting impatient and frustrated.

Before It?s Too Late

On the last day, we went to Mass, Rosary services, Adoration, and everything else they offered. We didn?t want to miss anything. During Adoration, I prayed, ?God, please talk to me. I felt God say, ?Go to Confession.? ?No God, please speak to me directly. It?s our last night. Please tell me what to do.? He said, ?Go to Confession.? I argued with God, ?Do you know how many people are in line for confession? I?ll never get in!?

In Medjugorje, Confession is a big deal. Even with dozens of priests hearing Confessions in many languages, the lines can be long. The outdoor Confessions area was swarming with people every time we walked by. ?Sorry God, if you had told me this earlier in the week, I would have gone, but I don?t want to miss out on anything during our last night here,? I prayed. Looking back, I am sure God was rolling His eyes.

After Adoration, while waiting for our friends, I looked at the Confession line trying to decide what to do. A friend from our group came over, looked at me, and said one word, ?Pizza.? I jumped up and said, ?Yes, let?s go.? We had a delightful time, and after I had stuffed myself, it occurred to me that I might have made a big mistake. ?Maybe I should have tried to go to Confession,? I thought. ?I think God was talking to me, and I disobeyed. Now, what am I going to do? It might be too late.? I was starting to feel guilty.

I asked Greg about my chances to get into Confession. ?It?s after 9:00,? he said, ?finding a priest still there (especially an English-speaking priest) won?t be easy?. I decided to try. We walked a block to the outdoor Confessions area and found it empty and dark. As we turned the corner, we spotted a priest in the distance sitting beside a sign that said ?English.? I couldn?t believe it. As I approached, he said, ?I?ve been waiting for you.?

A Message from God

I sat down and started my Confession. ?I should tell you,? I said, ?I?ve had issues with Confession. All my other Confessions were half-hearted and done out of obligation. I feel like God told me to come here tonight, so I?m going to consider this my first Confession.? Then I spilled my guts. It took a long time. I was crying, and even though I felt that I had confessed my sins to Jesus throughout the years, there was something special about speaking them out loud to a priest. I struggled to get out some of my words, but I did the best I could.

When I finished, he said, ?Your sins are forgiven.? Then he said, ?I can tell you are genuinely sorry for your sins, but that?s not the only reason you are here. You are here because it is your last night in Medjugorje (I didn?t tell him that!), and you have been frustrated with God for a long time. You have wanted Him to speak to you on this trip, and you feel He hasn?t. (I didn?t tell him that either!)

?Here is God?s message to you,? said the priest. ?Be patient, keep doing what you?re doing and trust in Me.?? I started crying and then laughing because I was so filled with joy. I hugged him and thanked him for waiting for me. I couldn?t wait to tell Keith what the priest told me. We realized there was a reason we were in Medjugorje on Keith?s anniversary of becoming a Catholic. There was a reason God didn?t have Keith do too much during that first year. We needed to be patient and faithful. And shortly after returning, doors began opening for Keith to share his journey into the Catholic faith.

For example, since the Pandemic began, Keith has been live streaming a Rosary every afternoon on YouTube. He?s done it every day for almost two years now, with over 70 countries represented. It?s now referred to as the Rosary Crew. People from all over the world tell Keith that his ministry has helped them. We are extremely grateful. I?ve learned that while we often ask God to speak to us, too often we?ve already decided what we want Him to say. But God loves to surprise us. Isn?t it crazy that Confession, the very thing that turned me away from The Church, is the thing that Jesus used to bring me back wholeheartedly?

Are you asking God for advice but unwilling to hear what He says? Do you have issues with the Church which you need to resolve? Do you need to ask someone for forgiveness? Do you need to surrender to Jesus and start living differently? Whatever your issue, try to let go of your expectations and just listen? Don?t wait any longer. God is speaking to you. Listen.

It was a cold and snowy afternoon several years ago, when I felt like going to Adoration. My own parish didn?t have Perpetual Adoration yet, so I drove to a parish that did. It has a small, very intimate chapel where I loved spending time with Jesus, pouring my heart out to Him.

My hour was almost over when I heard two people talking in the back of the chapel. I was disconcerted and distracted by their insensitivity regarding a homeless man in the narthex, so I decided to leave. My hour was almost over anyway.

As I left, I passed through the narthex where the man was sleeping so soundly that he didn?t even stir when I paused to say a prayer over him. I felt relieved that the doors were unlocked for Adoration so he could find shelter. He appeared to be homeless, but I didn?t know for sure.

What I do know is that I was moved to tears by my concern for this man. I could hardly contain myself as I wandered outside where a statue of the Sacred Heart reminded me of Christ?s loving concern for every person and His abundant mercy. I begged the Lord to tell me what to do. In my heart, I felt the Lord telling me to go to the nearby store and pick up a few necessities for this man. I thanked Him and immediately bought a few things that I thought the man might be able to use.

All the way back to the chapel, I hoped the man would still be there. I really wanted to give him what I had purchased. When I arrived, he was still sleeping. I quietly set the bags down near him, said a prayer, and began walking away. I had almost reached the exit when I heard someone call, ?Lady, lady?. I turned around and replied, ?Yes?. The man was now awake and approached me, asking if I had left the bags for him. I replied, ?Yes, I did.? He thanked me saying how thoughtful that was. No one had ever done that before. I smiled and said, ?You?re welcome?. The man was coming closer and I felt as if I was in the presence of Jesus. I felt so much love in my heart. Then he said, ?Lady, I will see you in Heaven.? I thought I would burst out crying. His voice was so kind and loving. I was compelled to give him a kiss on the cheek. We said goodbye to each other and went our separate ways.

Outside, I couldn?t stop crying. I cried all the way home. Even now, I am moved to tears when I remember that afternoon. That cold, snowy afternoon, I realized that I had indeed met Jesus in that beautiful man. Now, when I look back, I imagine Jesus saying to me, ?It?s Me, Jesus!? with a big smile on His face.

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me that I can meet you in each person I encounter.

An Exclusive Interview with Antonia Salzano, mother of Blessed Carlo Acutis by Graziano Marcheschi, the Contributing Editor of Shalom Tidings as she speaks from her heart of what it?s being like to be a Saint?s mom.

At age seven he wrote, ?My life plan is to be always close to Jesus.?

By the time he was fifteen, he had gone home to the Lord whom he had loved throughout his short life.

In between, is the remarkable story of a remarkably ordinary boy.

Ordinary, because he was not a standout athlete, nor a handsome movie star, nor even a brilliant scholar who finished graduate school when other kids are struggling through junior-high. He was a nice kid, a good kid. Very bright, to be sure: at age nine he read college textbooks to teach himself computer programming. But he did not win awards, nor influence people on Twitter. Few outside his circle knew who he was?an only child, living with his parents in northern Italy, who went to school, played sports, enjoyed his friends, and knew how to handle a joystick.

Un-remarkable but Extraordinary

As a very young child he fell in love with God and from then on, he lived with a singular focus, with a hunger for God that few ever achieve. And by the time he left this world he had made an indelible mark on it. Always a boy on a mission, he wasted no time. When people could not see what he saw, even his own mother, he helped them open their eyes.

Via Zoom, I interviewed his mother, Antonia Salzano, and asked her to explain his hunger for God, which even Pope Francis described as a ?precocious hunger??

?This is a mystery for me,? she said. ?But many saints had special relationships with God from an early age, even if their family was not religious.? Carlo?s mother speaks from her heart openly about having attended Mass only three times in her life before Carlo started dragging her there when he was three-and-a-half. The daughter of a publisher, she was influenced by artists, writers, and journalists, not popes or saints. She had no interest in matters of faith and now says she was destined to become a ?goat? rather than a ?sheep.? But then came this marvelous boy who ?always raced ahead?he spoke his first word at three months, started talking at five months, and began writing at age four.? And in matters of faith, he was ahead even of most adults.

At age three, he began asking questions his mother could not answer?lots of questions about the Sacraments, the Holy Trinity, Original Sin, the Resurrection. ?This created a struggle in me,? Antonia said, ?because I myself was as ignorant as a child of three.? His Polish nanny was better able to answer Carlo?s questions and spoke with him often about matters of faith. But his mother?s inability to answer his questions, she said, ?diminished my authority as a parent.? Carlo wanted to engage in devotions she had never practiced?honoring the saints, putting flowers before the Blessed Virgin, spending hours in church before the cross and tabernacle.? She was at a loss about how to deal with her son?s precocious spirituality.

The beginning of a Journey

The unexpected death of her father from a heart attack led Antonia to start asking her own questions about life after death. Then, Father Ilio, an elderly holy priest known as the Padre Pio of Bologna, whom she met through a friend, set her on a journey of faith on which Carlo would become her primary guide. After telling her all the sins of her life before she confessed them, Father Ilio prophesied that Carlo had a special mission that would be of great importance for the Church.

Eventually, she began studying Theology, but it is Carlo whom she credits with her ?conversion,? calling him ?her savior.? Because of Carlo, she came to recognize the miracle that occurs at each Holy Mass. ?Through Carlo I understood that the bread and wine become the real presence of God among us. This was a fantastic discovery for me,? she said. His love of God and appreciation of the Eucharist was not something young Carlo kept to himself. ?The specialness of Carlo was to be a witness,? she said, ?…always happy, always smiling, never sad. ?Sadness is looking in toward the self;? Carlo would say, ?happiness is looking out toward God.?? Carlo saw God in his classmates and everyone he met. ?Because he was aware of this presence, he gave witness to this presence,? she said.

Nourished daily by the Eucharist and divine Adoration, Carlo sought out the homeless, bringing them blankets and food. He defended classmates who were bullied and helped those who needed homework assistance. His one goal was ?to speak about God and help others get closer to God.?

Seize the day!

Perhaps because he sensed his life would be short, Carlo made good use of time. ?When Jesus came,? Antonia commented, ?he showed us how not to waste time. Each second of his life was glorification of God.? Carlo understood this well and emphasized the importance of living in the now. ?Carpe diem! (Seize the day!),? he urged, ?because every minute wasted is one less minute to glorify God.? That?s why this teenager limited himself to but one hour of video games per week!

The attraction that many who read about him instantly feel toward Carlo characterized his whole life. ?Since he was a young boy, people were naturally attracted to him?not because he was a blue-eyed fair-haired child, but because of what was inside,? said his mother. ?He had a way to connect with people that was extraordinary.?

Even in school he was beloved. ?The Jesuit fathers noticed this,? she said. His classmates were competitive kids from the upper classes, focused on achievement and success. ?Naturally, there is lots of jealousy between classmates, but with Carlo none of that happened. He melted those things like magic; with his smile and purity of heart he conquered everyone. He had the ability to enflame the hearts of people, to turn their cold hearts warm.?

?His secret was Jesus. He was so full of Jesus?daily Mass, Adoration before or after mass, devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary?that he lived his life with Jesus, for Jesus, and in Jesus.

A Foretaste of Heaven

?Carlo genuinely felt God?s presence in his life,? said his mother, ?and this completely changed the way people looked at him. They understood there was something special here.?

Strangers, teachers, classmates, a holy priest, all recognized something unique in this boy. And that uniqueness was most evident in his love of the Eucharist. ?The more we receive the Eucharist,? he said, ?the more we will become like Jesus, so that on earth we will have a foretaste of Heaven.? All his life he looked toward Heaven and the Eucharist was his ?highway to Heaven… the most supernatural thing we have,? he would say. From Carlo, Antonia learned that the Eucharist is spiritual nourishment that helps increase our capacity to love God and neighbor?and grow in holiness. Carlo used to say ?when we face the Sun we get a tan, but when we stand before Jesus in the Eucharist we become saints.?

One of Carlo?s best known accomplishments is his website chronicling Eucharistic miracles throughout history. An exhibit developed from the website continues to travel the world from Europe to Japan, from the US to China. Besides the amazing number of visitors to the exhibit, numerous miracles have been documented, though none as significant as the many it has brought back to the Sacraments and the Eucharist.

Process of Subtraction

Carlo is beatified and his canonization is assured, pending the authentication of a second miracle. But Antonia is quick to point out that Carlo will not be canonized because of miracles but because of his Holy life. Holiness is determined by the witness of one?s life, by how well they lived the virtues?faith, hope, charity, prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. ?Living the virtues heroically??which the Catechism of the Catholic Church defines as ?a habitual and firm disposition to do the good??is what makes one a saint.?

And that?s exactly what Carlo strove to do. He tended to talk too much, so he made an effort to talk less. If he noticed himself overindulging, he?d strive to eat less. Nightly, he examined his conscience about his treatment of friends, teachers, parents. ?He understood,? his mother said, ?that conversion is not a process of addition, but of subtraction.? A profound insight for one so young. And so Carlo worked even to eliminate from his life every trace of venial sin. ?Not I, but God,? he would say. ?There needs to be less of me so I can leave more room for God.?

This effort made him aware that the greatest battle is with ourselves. One of his best known quotes asks, ?What does it matter if you win a thousand battles if you cannot win against your own corrupt passions?? This effort ?to overcome the defects that make us spiritually weak,? observed Antonia, ?is the heart of holiness.? Young as he was, Carlo knew sanctity lies ?in our efforts to resist the corrupt instincts we have inside us because of Original Sin.?

A Chilling Insight

Of course, losing her only child was a great cross for Antonia. But fortunately, by the time he died, she had already found her way back to her faith and had learned that ?death is a passage to true life.? Despite the blow of knowing she would lose Carlo, during his time in the hospital the words that echoed inside her were those from the Book of Job: ?The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.? (Job 1:21).

After his death, Antonia discovered a video Carlo had made of himself on his computer. Though he knew nothing of his leukemia at the time, in the video he says that when his weight goes down to seventy kilos, he will die. Somehow, he knew. Yet, he is smiling and looking at the sky with his arms upraised. In the hospital, his joy and peacefulness belied a chilling insight: ?Remember,? he told his mother, ?I won?t leave this hospital alive, but I will give you many, many signs.?

And signs he has given?a woman who prayed to Carlo at his funeral was healed of breast cancer without any chemotherapy. A 44-year-old woman who had never had a child prayed at the funeral and one month later was pregnant. Many conversions have occurred, but perhaps the most special miracle ?is the one for the mother,? says Antonia. For years after Carlo?s birth Antonia had tried to conceive other children but to no avail. After his death, Carlo came to her in a dream telling her she would become a mother again. At age 44, on the fourth anniversary of his death, she gave birth to twins?Francesca and Michele. Like their brother, both attend Mass daily and pray the Rosary, and hope one day to help further their brother?s mission.

When his doctors asked if he was in pain, Carlo replied that ?there are people who suffer much more than me. I offer my suffering for the Lord, the Pope (Benedict XVI), and the Church.? Carlo died just three days after his diagnosis. With his last words, Carlo professed that ?I die happy because I didn?t spend any minutes of my life in things God doesn?t love.?

Naturally, Antonia misses her son. ?I feel Carlo?s absence,? she said, ?but in some ways I feel Carlo much more present than before. I feel him in a special way?spiritually. And I feel also his inspiration. I see the fruit his example is bringing to young people. This is a big consolation for me. Through Carlo, God is creating a masterpiece and this is very important, especially in these dark times when people?s faith is so weak, and God seems to be unnecessary in our lives. I think Carlo is doing a very good job.?