Coming Back Home
Life was good. Or so I thought. I was living in New York City on the upper Westside with my new bride, and working as an actor. Maybe you have seen one of my award winning performances: Dunking my face into a bowl of baked beans, singing into a chunk of Velveeta cheese, talking with a mouth full of cookies, or maybe as the bright neon orange and green live version the very popular toy at the time, ?Big Frank.? As well as in film, TV shows, theatre, and something very dear to me, Third Rail Comedy, the sketch comedy group I was a founding member of. One of our reviews at the time said we were ?rude, crude and lewd.? We considered that a badge of honor. I was auditioning or filming during the day and performing sketch comedy in clubs at night. Yes, life was good. But let me back up a bit.
I was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and raised Catholic. We went to Mass every Sunday and on holy days, and fasted from meat on Fridays. This fasting thing was not good for me. See, I hated fish at the time and I dreaded the Fridays when we had tuna fish casserole. I attended Catholic school for six years. I can remember when I was about eight, sitting in a dark auditorium at school with my mom and dad watching my older sister and younger brother in the school Christmas play. She was a candy cane and he was an elf. And while gazing up at their brilliant performance on stage I remember thinking, I would never, ever want to be on a stage in front of people.
I was an extremely shy and introverted child. It is nothing less than ironic that I wound up an actor. But that is another story. By this time, our family moved to Florida. In seventh and eighth grade, I attended weekly catechism classes while in public school. And I was an altar boy. My mom and dad, brother and two sisters and I were by all accounts a Catholic family. Looking back, I remember it all fondly and feel quite fortunate to have had a faith centered family. But in my early teen years, seeing kids in the neighborhood playing and having fun while I had to get dressed up and head to church began to be a real drag.
I began to realize that I went to Mass because that is what we did on Sunday, not because I wanted to go. My faith was not something I believed, but something I went along with. I began to wonder if what went on during Mass was real and true or just made up rituals and stories. I made half-hearted attempts to read the Bible, but found it all rather boring and hard to comprehend. I did not take the time or effort to investigate further.
So, like any good son, I just went along without complaint. Okay, maybe a little complaining, but inside I knew it would never really get very far. The more I went to Mass, the less sense it made to me. I mean, who is this God? This bearded man I imagined in my youth. I found it a challenge to grasp the concept of Who or what was God. If He was not an old man in the clouds, Who was He? I thought that if I could just get a picture of what God looks like in my mind, then I would be able to understand. But that image never materialized. Instead, my frustration grew and my doubt multiplied.
While at college, I moved out on my own and that is when the drifting really began. On weekends while at home, I would attend Mass. But for one reason or another I would not make it to church on many Sundays. There were times that I would make an attempt to seek out a Catholic church close by the college, but never followed through on showing up on Sunday. There was always an urge inside me that wanted to seek out God, to go to Mass, but I tried my best to ignore that feeling, thinking that it was just a habit from always going to Mass with my family in my youth. I also allowed negative news in newspapers or television about the Catholic Church to put a deeper wedge between me and my faith.
I thought that if the Catholic Church did not satisfy me, maybe a non-Catholic church or another religion might be a better fit for me. I tried non-denominational Christian churches, unity churches, found my way to a few different Buddhist temples and a Baptist church, but none of them satisfied me. So I decided to ignore that urge and enjoy college life. One thing for sure, I was spiritually adrift.
After graduating college as a newly minted theatre major, I began auditioning at professional theaters in the area. The local theater scene was coming into its own and I found a nice fit with a theater company and enjoyed performing in a number of productions.
One day, after a morning rehearsal for a play I was performing in, I joined my family in the hospital waiting room where my mom was having surgery. As we sat awaiting word on my mother?s outcome, I scanned the room and at the other end, I noticed a familiar face. A very attractive girl that I had gone to high school with, but never said hello to because I was very shy. As I was deciding whether to say hello or not, her aunt spoke up and said, ?I think she knows you.? Two years later, Dede became my wife.
After meeting with some success locally with my acting, we decided to take a bite out of the Big Apple. That first year in New York City was an exhilarating and frightening time. What a rush for me it was walking the streets of Manhattan going from audition to audition! After about six months of beating the streets, I began booking commercials. I did thank God for my new found success, but did not bother to follow that urge inside me to attend Mass. On the surface, exploring what this island metropolis had to offer, with my wife, made that first year even more exciting. I began living the dream of every actor: Working only as an actor. And in New York City no less!
Then, without warning, my wife began experiencing neurological issues. After consulting with a neurologist and undergoing many medical tests, it was discovered that she had Lyme disease. A ticborne illness which mimics multiple sclerosis and at that time was rather rare. There was controversy on the best protocol to effectively treat this illness. After two years of treatment with a doctor who was very knowledgeable with the disease and whom we both trusted, she was symptom-free. About a year later, our son was born.
As any new parent can attest, those first few months were joy-filled exhaustion. Bringing new life into this world, learning how to be a parent, hoping you do it ?correctly,? whatever that is. I was smitten. That little guy filled me with a type of love I had never experienced. How I am going to guide and teach him was a constant thought in my mind as I would gaze at him asleep in my arms. One thing I knew for sure was to give him as much love as humanly possible. At my mother?s insistence, our son was baptized into the Catholic Church. That first year with our son was a blast and a blur working and enjoying our new family.
After our son?s first birthday, my wife?s health declined dramatically. Vertigo, exhaustion, difficulty walking, and temporary partial blindness filled her with fear. After many tests with her neurologist, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. We were devastated to say the least. After the initial shock of the diagnosis, with my wife?s positive attitude and constant smile, we began to find our way with this new wrinkle in our life.
Vaguely familiar with the disease and with the doctors saying symptoms are different for everyone, I began to research and learn all I could about this thing called MS. At that time, I felt invincible. I did not need anyone?s help, I could do it all: Assist my wife, care for my son, work, and so on. There was no thought of going to Mass, asking for or needing God?s help. I could do it all. And I did. For a while.
As an actor, there is time during the day between auditions that I could take care of our son, assist my wife, grocery shop, and do whatever else came up. I had tons of energy and relished the fact that I could do all that I did. I would get my wife and son situated, then go and audition or film, then come home and do what needed to be done. Then, I was off again. A few evenings a week I would rehearse or perform with my sketch comedy group at clubs around New York City. At times it seemed like I was always in motion. Living in New York City was convenient in that everything was a train, bus, or cab ride away.
About the time our son was two, the urge inside of me of going back to church was getting harder to suppress. I began to think that maybe we should go to Mass as a family because that is what I did growing up. So we began our half-hearted attempts of attending Mass. We were often late, I was easily distracted by my son who could not sit still for a second, and many Sundays we could easily talk ourselves out of going to Mass for one bad excuse or another. But, even through the distractions and excuses, that urge was ever present in my heart.
There were periods of time when my wife was almost symptom-free and could get around and have a ?normal? life, which we did our best to enjoy to the fullest. As time went on, however, walking became more of a challenge for her and getting around proved more difficult. And that began to put a strain on both of us.
As time passed, I realized that life in New York City would become a major challenge for my wife because to her diminishing mobility. So we decided to relocate to California. Settling in the valley just over the hill from Hollywood, it had everything that we were looking for: Lots of space for my son to play, easier for my wife to navigate, and opportunities for acting work. After a time, we became acclimated to our new area, not to mention that we loved the weather.
I cannot remember how, but I found a church nearby that we would attend on occasion. When we attended, I found myself sitting in the pew questioning many things about the Catholic faith and the Mass. Why Mass? I mean, is all that takes place in the Mass necessary? At times I would be half asleep. I would complain to myself that the readers are boring or that the priest is boring. Does he really believe what he is saying? Other times I found myself getting very angry during homilies. So much so that I would get up and walk out of the church in a huff.
I was not happy. I did not quite realize it at that moment, but somewhere along the way, I developed an attitude that someone else was to blame for whatever was going wrong in my life. Impatience, frustration, anger, and many other emotions churned in my mind as more responsibilities began to pile up and I was becoming more resentful of my circumstance. My focus shifted from what I can do for my wife to, look at all this stuff I have to do for my wife.
Through the anger and frustration, I still had that urge inside pulling me to Mass. When my son was in kindergarten, I began to think if I should have him go through the sacraments, reconciliation and first Holy Communion being the first two. I really struggled with this decision. I mean, I was struggling with my faith or lack thereof, so why push him into something that I had many questions with? After much thought, I decided that I would have him go through the sacraments and when he finished confirmation, he could decide for himself if he wanted to continue.
After signing up for the Sunday morning class, I found out that the Holy Communion/Reconciliation class is a two-year process and on top of that, parents had to ?volunteer? two times in the class. And if that was not bad enough, the class began at 9AM on Sunday. I struggled making it to Mass at 10AM! Oh great, I thought. My plan was to ?volunteer? the first two classes and get the obligation over with quickly, then I would not have to deal with it for the rest of the year.
My plan worked, sort of. I attended the first class with a few other parents and our job was to help keep the kids focused. A bit of a challenge, because there were thirty some kids packed in that classroom. I do enjoy children, so interacting with them and doing my best to keep them focused was a fun challenge. And something else began to happen, I found myself listening to what the instructor was saying. I remembered the Bible lesson she was teaching the kids from when I went to Catholic school, but somehow it felt like I was hearing it in a new way. I felt drawn to all she was saying. I went back the next Sunday and again, found myself listening intently to everything this catechist had to say.
My ?volunteer? obligation fulfilled, I went back week after week to help out and get reacquainted with the faith in which I was raised. I ended up helping out the two years of required classes for Reconciliation/First Holy Communion. I actually looked forward to those classes. I was very happy for my son, but still very confused and had many doubts about my faith, the Church and if it was real and true. But that feeling inside of me, that urge, would not let go. I decided that if my son was to be confirmed in the Catholic Church, which was a two-year program for ninth and tenth grade, then he should continue with the non-required catechism classes third through eighth grade. Even though I had my doubts, I felt that to give my son a fair shot of knowing the faith, he should have the benefit of those classes which coincided with a typical school year.
So, we continued our routine of my son going to catechism class on Sunday, then we attended Mass right after. We would take our position in the pew about three quarters of the way back of the church, sometimes further back but never closer. I suppose it felt safer back there, like the priest could not see that far back and we could get lost in the crowd. I doubted almost everything I knew about the Catholic Church. Does the bread and wine really transform into the body and blood of Christ? Was Mary really a virgin? And even more unbelievable to me?did Jesus really resurrect from the dead? Now come on, really? Week after week I would ask myself those questions and more. Is all that takes place in the Mass necessary? I would say to myself, ?there has got to be more to this (the Mass) than just this (what I am seeing).?
After about five years of asking the same questions wondering if there was more to the Mass than what I am seeing?it happened.
There I was, in the pew with my wife and son, I am slouching, half asleep, and mind wandering when I began to feel an odd sensation in my chest. I began to feel a warmth, a heat in the center of my chest. I sat up, I looked around to see if anyone else might be feeling what I was feeling. In a matter of moments this heat intensified and my chest felt as if it was opening and this heat turned into an intense fire, burning in my chest. An incredible fire with the most amazing indescribable feeling of love. A love so intense, so beautiful, so unconditional just flowing from my chest along with this intense burning fire. I began saying to myself, ?I get this, I get this, I get this,? but I did not know what I was getting. Then, in my mind I could see curtains opening. Curtain after curtain, one after another opening, deeper and deeper in my mind. Then, every question every doubt I had about the Catholic faith, about the Mass, about Mary, about, about everything?it was answered at once. YES! It is all true. It is all real.
As I was sitting there, having this life altering experience, I was unsure what to do next. I just had every doubt and question about my Catholic faith that I ever had, answered in an instant. I am sitting there, with my chest open with a roaring, surging fire ablaze with the most incredible feeling of love that I ever experienced and I am thinking, what do I do now? Should I walk up the aisle and stop the priest during Mass and tell him what is happening to me? Should I stand up and shout with joy of my experience? I wanted to, but thought the people would think I was a lunatic. So, I just sat there, trying to comprehend what was happening to me.
After Mass I did not say anything to anyone, not even my wife. I just was not sure what to make of this fiery love burning inside of me. It was with me the whole week and I could not wait to get back to church the next Sunday to see what was going to happen next.
Upon entering the church, I felt an instant connection in my chest, almost like I was being plugged back in. Although I had the fire ablaze in me throughout the week, it felt like this is where I needed to be. The church. Week after week it continued and I found myself moving up a pew or two every week. After about four weeks, we were sitting in the front pew and all I could say in my mind as this fire of love burned in my chest was, ?How do I get there?? The tabernacle. I just wanted to be as close to the Holy Eucharist as humanly possible.
As I write this, I cannot help but think of the angels and saints desiring to be near and praising Jesus at the tabernacles in Catholic churches around the world. Oh to be near You Jesus, oh to love You, stripped of ego and all pretense!
Now, as challenging as this story would have been for me to believe if someone told me this over ten years ago, this part of the story would have been even harder to accept. As we sat in the front pew each week, a word or a phrase from a song, a reading, the homily, basically anything that was uttered or sung during the service, whatever the Holy Spirit needed me to think about, that word or phrase would burn in fire in front of me. Yes, I know, that is hard to believe. It took me a couple weeks to realize that this was really happening to me. Each week, I was not expecting, just accepting of what was unfolding to me and taking in all that was offered. This continued for about eight weeks. The fire and feeling of love in my chest stayed with me for several months, then slowly it began to dissipate with time. But to this day, almost every time I enter a Catholic church I feel that connection and a bit of the heat in my chest.
I have been asked, ?Why did you get to have this experience?? My smart alec answer is, because I am super-duper special. But in reality, to God, we are all super-duper special. I honestly do not know the answer. It may be a combination of reasons. I was so determined to know what was going on in the Mass. Not just what we could see but, all that we cannot see. The spiritual, mystical, unseen aspect of the Mass. I just kept asking over and over and over again. Week after week, month after month, year after year, ?There has got to be more to this (the Mass) than just this (what I?m seeing).? And on that day, God answered me. Maybe He was so tired of me asking that He finally said, ?Stop your whining, here?s your answer.? For whatever reason, I am thankful. That gift brought me back to the fullness of the faith in a huge way. I am a full participant in the Mass, searching and opening myself to an ever deepening understanding of my Catholic faith. I expect to always be discovering more of this incredible Church that Jesus founded and handed over to Saint Peter, the first pope all the way through to Pope Francis.
As my son continued through the CRE program at church, each week I would sit outside of the confirmation classes. I would peek in the classrooms as I walked by and would become distressed at what I was seeing. Teens looking like they were half asleep, ignoring the teacher. In another classroom, the kids were clowning around with one another not even paying attention to the teacher. Each week the same thing. I would sit at the benches and think, oh no, when these kids get confirmed, they are never going to come back to church! Someone has got to do something. I began getting the urge to tell these kids my story, so that maybe they would understand how important their Catholic faith is. Each week I would think the same thing but resisted that urge inside of me.
Okay, yes I know, I am slow at understanding that God is speaking to me. It eventually clicked that I had to tell them my story. A friend introduced me to the director of religious education. The next year, I was teaching one of the confirmation classes and in the first class of each group of teens, I tell them my story. I have been a confirmation catechist for the past nine years and I continue to grow in passion about my faith and seeing the kids respond in a positive way to my story and classes is truly a blessing to me and I trust, a blessing to them. All thanks to God!
And yes, I am following the urging (yea I know, what took me so long?) to share my story through this story in the quest to help more and more people grow in their faith, come back to their Catholic faith or come into the Catholic Church. As the song says, ?all are welcome in this place.?
Billie Gillespie (www.RedemptionStreet.net) is an Actor, Catholic Speaker, and Confirmation Catechist residing in Los Angeles, California.
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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.
Imagine having to meet secretly in underground catacombs to celebrate the Eucharist. Such was the plight of Christians in the Third century under the persecution of emperor Diocletian. Imprisonment and even death could be the punishment for anyone discovered to be a Christian. One day, as the bishop was about to celebrate Holy Mass in one of the catacombs, he received a letter from Christian prisoners requesting he send them the Eucharist. As soon as the Mass was over, the bishop asked who would be willing to carry out this dangerous task. Young Tarcisius?an altar server?stood up and said, ?Send me.? The bishop thought the boy was too young, but Tarcisius convinced the bishop that nobody would suspect him precisely because he was just a boy. All the Christians knew of Tarcisius??a boy with deep love for Jesus in the Eucharist, and so the bishop accepted the boy's offer. The Blessed Sacrament was carefully wrapped in linen cloth and placed in a small case which Tarcisius hid within his tunic, just over his heart. On the way, he passed a group of his schoolmates who called to him to join their games, but Tarcisius refused saying he was in a hurry. Seeing that he was holding something close to his breast, they became curious and together tried to pull away his hands. As they struggled, one of the boys heard him whisper ?Jesus? and cried out to the others: ?He is a Christian. He is hiding some Christian mystery there.?The boys struck him and kicked him fiercely to make him loosen his grip. When a man passing by heard that the boy was a Christian, he gave a cruel blow that threw him to the ground. Just then a soldier dispersed the attackers, lifted Tarcisius onto his arms and hurried off to a quiet lane. Tarcisius opened his eyes and recognized the soldier as a Christian whom he had often met in the catacombs. ?I am dying,? he said, ?but I have kept my God safe from them.? And he handed his precious treasure to the soldier, who placed it reverently inside his tunic. ?Carry Him to the prison for me,? said Tarcisius, and with a gentle sigh he fell back into the soldier's arms. His little soul was already with God for whom he so willingly had given his life. Jesus said, ?No one has greater love than this, to lay down one?s life for one?s friends.? Young Tarcisius as a boy martyr of the Eucharist gave his life for the Friend of friends, Jesus the Lord.
I was carrying those wounds from the past which affected me deeply. Sudden outbursts of anger and addiction to sinful habits led me down the pit until He set me free? When I went to high school in Chicago, there was a lot of racial tension. I belong to a minority group and during my time in high school, I often faced and dealt with discrimination. During those 4 years, I was harassed verbally, and I struggled emotionally because of the teasing and ridicule. I was the type of person who would not retaliate when I faced ridicule, but I took all the negative feelings from this verbal and physical harassment and buried it deep in my heart. However, keeping all of that negativity inside affected me deeply. My interactions with my parents, brothers, and other relatives suffered. Sometimes I would have sudden outbursts of anger and lash out to hurt them with spiteful, cruel words. I was addicted to many sinful habits. Although I knew that these were evil and desired to be released from them, I struggled in vain to free myself. I continued to fall into the same sinful habits and couldn?t control my temper. At one family gathering, I felt so angry that I got into a fight with my youngest brother. I became afraid of myself, realizing that I needed to do something about this hate and anger lying deep within me. What Captivated Me? By the Grace of God, during my freshman year in high school, I attended a youth Retreat. During this Retreat, I saw young people who were so excited about God that their deep love for Him shone joyfully on their faces. For the first time in my life, I met young people who felt unintimidated in talking about God or sharing their faith experiences. And it really captivated me. I had grown up in a good Catholic family and thought that I knew all about God, but it remained at the intellectual level and never transferred to my heart. However at this Retreat, I saw young people who really loved living their faith and were so happy. Despite the fact that my friends and I would sometimes burst out laughing because we found what they were doing comical, the young people who were ministering to us were not deterred in any way. They were so excited to be there and so passionate about their faith that I really longed to have what they had, to be full of joy, to be happy and to love life. So, I prayed, ?Lord I want to be like that, I want that. After that Retreat, I had the opportunity to attend multiple Retreats. I would go at least 1 or 2 times a year and also began to be active in youth ministry. I got an opportunity to be part of the youth service team for the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in Chicago and I worked in youth ministry with other adults. It was a wonderful time for me. Resisting Him I began to grow in my faith and, at the same time, share my faith with others. But even as I continued in ministry, I still struggled sometimes with sinful habits and outbursts of anger. This really depressed me because I was trying to share the good news of Christ with others, but my own sins were holding me back and I still couldn?t forgive the people who had hurt me. I desperately wanted freedom from this slavery of sin. As I cried out to God in desperation, I felt the Lord telling me ?Jenson, I want to heal you. I want to set you free from this negativity lying deep within your heart, but to do that, I need to walk with you into each and every one of those painful situations and touch those painful memories with My hand that is bathed in My blood that was shed for you at Calvary.? I was afraid and responded timorously, ?Lord, I do not want to revisit those negative experiences. It is too painful for me.? So I kept resisting the Lord even though he was ready to set me free. All through high school?I continued to experience painful situations, the Lord kept telling me He wants to set me free, He wanted to heal me, but I kept resisting Him. I continued to work in youth ministry but I was becoming more discouraged because I was not able to find lasting happiness. Revisiting the Pains After high school, I went to a Catholic university in Chicago. It was a wonderful environment because, for the first time in my life, I did not face any discrimination. People accepted me for who I was. I began to desire very strongly that when I received the joy of the Lord it would last into the next day or week. To my disappointment, I kept falling back into habitual sin and outbursts of anger. I called out to the Lord, saying, ?Something has to change. I want to be free; I want to be rid of my past because it is holding me captive.? And the Lord kept telling me, ?I want to do that for you, but you have to give Me permission to do that one thing?to set me free.? But I replied, ?No way!? I don?t want to ever revisit those years of high school which were so painful. One day, at the end of a Retreat, one of the adults working with me in youth ministry (who knew all about my struggles and my past) came to me saying, ?Jenson, I want you to do something for me. I want you to put both your hands on my shoulders. I want you to look at me in the eyes and I want you to see one of those people who hurt you in high school. I want you to tell this person what he or she did to you, and then I want you to say, ?I forgive you.? And for the first time in my life, I did not resist. I did not have the power to resist. I said, ?I am ready now. I want to go through with it.? And so one by one I began to do this. Looking at my friend, I did not see her face. In my imagination, I delved into my memory to find and picture each of the people who had hurt me in high school. I told each of them what he or she had done to me, and then I said, ?I forgive you.? As I began to do this, I began to cry uncontrollably. Each time I spoke the words of forgiveness, ?I forgive you for what you did to me?, I felt something heavy lifted out of me. River of Love It was a long night of prayer, but it was the most powerful healing experience of my life. As the weight of this pain was lifted from me by each act of forgiveness, I felt more and more light-hearted. One of my friends, who resembled Jesus with his long hair, came up close to me as the prayer ended. I felt so light that I just floated into his hands. As he held me there, I felt as if Jesus was holding me close to His Heart, embracing me. My heart felt empty of the burden it had been carrying. Into that emptiness, I suddenly felt the love of God flowing like a river into my heart, filling me with peace, love and joy. I just enjoyed the moment, relishing the peace I had been craving for so long. I felt sure that I was finally completely free of the burden of sin, guilt and shame that had been crushing me. The Lord had completely uprooted all that negative stuff and taken it away from me. He set me free. Why did this happen? Because I had reached a point of desperation where I cried out to the Lord for help to escape a lifestyle of sin, and then submitted to His remedy. The Lord had said, ?I want to set you free. I am the wounded Healer. I love you, I laid down my life for you.? He wanted to walk with me into each of my painful experiences, share in my pain and I bring His healing touch to my wounds. When I finally allowed Him to do that, Jesus did not let me walk by myself. He walked beside me, taking me back to each and every painful situation, helping me to describe what happened to the person who hurt me and truly forgive them. He gave me the grace to do that, and permanently shed the heavy burden I had been carrying. He Waits For You God wants to heal us permanently and make us whole. He does not do partial work on us. If we trust in Him, He will finish the work that He began and heal us completely. Because He is the wounded healer, He loves us so much that He shares our pain. The Lord does not abandon us even for a second; He stays with us through all our painful moments and walks beside us. After I allowed the Lord to lift my burden, and to set me free, I could continue my life free of the sinful habits that had enslaved me. Every day, I felt the joy of the Lord in my heart and nobody or nothing could take that joy away from me. Even when I committed sin and fell away from God, I was able to come back immediately through the sacrament of Confession. Receiving the graces of the sacrament strengthened my commitment to go to confession frequently. The Lord was with me and I would not allow myself to slip away from Him again. I invite each one of you who has experienced hurt through your own sins, or the sins of others, to open your heart to Jesus. He is the wounded healer. He can make you whole again. He can restore you through His healing power. He can set you free. All you have to do is say ?Yes? to Him. If you trust Him and give Him permission to heal you, you will receive lasting grace and joy. If there is anybody in your life that you need to forgive, I encourage you to say the words of forgiveness; because the act of forgiveness will allow the healing grace of God to complete you and bring fulfillment in your life.
Until then going to church was just to keep my parents happy. I didn?t expect that there was someone there who loved me, even when I didn?t care I was born into a Catholic family in India, so, for me, growing up Catholic was more because of tradition than faith. Going to Sunday Mass and receiving Holy Communion had become routine, and I never really had a relationship with Jesus. I didn't take my faith seriously. It was more about keeping my parents happy, so for their sake I went to church. When I moved to England at the impressionable age of 13, my life went through a complete upheaval. In the midst of this culture shock, I was bullied at school. That was so traumatizing that I felt like trash. I couldn?t understand what was happening, and I felt so depressed that I began to think, ?Why am I alive?? I threw myself into my study, and my grades improved so that I was able to study pharmacy at Birmingham University. I was surprised when I met a group of young people who accepted me the way I was for the first time in my life. Although that felt great, it was also very strange because they would gather to pray and I wasn?t used to that. When they were praising God, I thought that was odd because I didn't have a relationship with Christ.? They belonged to an international Catholic charismatic movement for youth called Jesus Youth. Although I couldn?t understand them, I kept going because I felt so accepted and decided to go with them to a conference called ?Dare to Go?. During an inner healing session, all the memories of what had happened to me in the past came flooding in. I couldn't stop crying, but then I felt the love of a Father embracing me and understood that Jesus had been carrying me all that time. I finally realized that somebody loved me for who I was, and didn?t judge me. He had always been there, even when I did not know Him, even when I did not love Him back. So, I started to spend more time with them and other like-minded people. I asked God how I could serve Him and He put the right people in my path. I discovered that He had given me a musical gift--to sing and glorify Him through music and share His love with others through music. The more I sing for him, the more I praise and glorify God through my voice, the more I am attracted and drawn towards Christ. What keeps me going and what keeps me attached to Christ is His unconditional love.? However, I wasn?t a paragon of perfection. Like many young people I decided to try out the things that everyone else seemed to enjoy. Alcohol helped me fit in with that crowd, but even when I sidetracked, God stayed with me to redirect my steps. He put certain people in my life to gently nudge me back to Him. He's a very gentle God. He never pushed me, or dragged me. He waited patiently and gave me countless opportunities, again and again, to come back to Him, so I could experience His love. The more I got to know Christ, the more I recognized how weak I was. Every day He revealed something about myself that I had never realized. My flaws and struggles became an opportunity to grow closer to Him, whereas I felt that if I shared my weaknesses with somebody else, they would probably reject me, and judge me. But I can keep going to Him again and again in Adoration or Mass, give my weakness to Him and ask Him to take it from me. He willingly accepts the burden. He polishes me day by day like a treasured jewel. I can't stop myself from being drawn towards His love. Our relationship has become so close that I cannot reject Him even if I wanted to, and if I do reject Him by falling again into sin, the love of God raises me up again. Every time I fall He says, ?It?s okay? and that is what keeps me connected to Him, that's what keeps me attached. When I go to Mass, I have a tangible experience of meeting Christ in the Eucharist. Every time I receive Him, it moves me to tears because I'm receiving the holiest of holies into my frail, sinful body and that strengthens me day by day. When I began journeying with Christ and experiencing Him in a personal way, I started realizing that it doesn't matter what is happening around me?how much money I have or how many friends I have. Before I used to seek for people's approval and the moment they rejected me my happiness was gone. But with Christ, it doesn't matter if people give you approval or not. He says, ?I have chosen you? and when I hear those words, I feel like I have achieved everything. It brings me a lot of happiness, joy and peace to me. I encourage you to give Jesus an opportunity to make a difference in your life. He stands knocking at the door, but He will never force it open, you are invited to open it to Him. You will never regret it if you do. You would be opening the door to a multitude of good things. The blessings He will shower upon you and the things you can achieve with His help are never-ending. Nothing is impossible for Him. He has given me the courage to say yes to things I could never have imagined. Christ gave me the strength to take a year out of my usual activities to do mission work with Jesus Youth. I distinctly heard Him say, ?Shelina I want you to take this one year. I will show you how much more you can achieve through Me?. I was always so anxious about traveling, meeting new people, or spending time with people that I didn't know. With Him by my side, I could step out of my comfort zone to do those very things, and enjoy it. That incessant, self-conscious fear that people would judge me has disappeared because my life now has a purpose--to share Christ with others. There is no greater gift I could give to anyone and He deserves our love. If He left the 99 and came after me, I'm sure that He's already seeking you, calling you back home. ARTICLE is based on the testimony shared by Shelina Guedes for the Shalom World program ?U-Turn?. To watch the episodes visit: shalomworld.org/show/u-turn
Did you ever encounter an unanswerable question which made you realize that Science doesn't have all the answers? I became a Catholic because Chemistry led me to Christ. I had abandoned my childhood faith to study Science because I thought they were incompatible. I loved Chemistry because it?s all about the fundamental structure underlying our macroscopic experience. It?s about the search for Truth. I thought Science had all the answers until I had a tremendous experience of God. This happened while I was working as a research scientist studying artificial photosynthesis. I was trying to develop a new alternative energy source to fossil fuels. I delighted in my work as I?d always wanted to make this world a better place by doing something good. However, simulating photosynthesis on nano composite materials in a state-of-the-art chemistry lab is in itself an absurd undertaking. One day, when my research wasn't going so well. I gazed idly through my window on the third floor into the canopy of a beautiful, tall, ancient tree?a Ginkgo biloba. ?As I regarded its beauty, I suddenly felt as if a veil had fallen away. My mind became flooded with interconnected facts?how plants use the sun, water and the carbon dioxide we breathe out to make all the biomass on earth. This incredibly complex, fine-tuned, well-orchestrated nano factory uses all these little molecules and blobs of proteins?just so far apart in the right position providing just the right fluid in this place, the perfect matrix in that place. It fits everything together in a series of precise chemical reactions more swiftly than you could even write them down.? In that moment, it all became so clear that there really is a great Chemist out there who made the entire universe. It was funny that I was here in the lab trying to save the planet while out there was the whole universe. I had not even been willing to face the fact that everything I was trying to do as a scientist was mimicking and simulating nature. In that moment I developed a deep conviction that Science is the study of God?s handiwork because Science is the study of Nature, and Nature is God?s creation. Once I got that straight in my head, nothing in Science ever made me question my faith. This moment of realization had a great impact on the way I thought. We are not God. We don?t even understand what's going on. He understands and knows all that He's holding in existence. We don't even know how many electrons are on the tip of our noses, but God does! ARTICLE is an excerpt from the Shalom World program ?Jesus My Savior? where Dr. Stacy A Trasancos shares all about her experience. To watch the episode visit: shalomworld.org/episode/jesus-my-savior
Dr. Roy Schoeman, tells us how atheism dragged him into a pit of hopelessness and how he got out of it I was born and raised Jewish. I went to Massachusetts Institute of Technology where I lost my belief in God, and essentially became an atheist. I went on to Harvard Business School, and after getting my degree was invited back to join the faculty. So at the age of 29, I found myself as a professor of marketing at Harvard Business School. Although it may sound surprising, that's when the bottom fell out of my world. Ever since I was a small child, I knew life must have a real meaning, which I thought would come from entering into a personal relationship with God. I expected this would happen at my Bar Mitzvah (sort of like Catholic confirmation) at the age of 13. When it didn't, it turned out to be one of the saddest days of my life. Then I thought real meaning would come from success in worldly life, but as a professor at Harvard, I was already more successful in a worldly career than I had ever hoped, yet still there was no meaning or purpose in my life. Therefore at that point, I fell into the darkest despair of my life. Mystical Way? Early one morning, I was walking in a Nature Preserve by the ocean, among the pine trees and sand dunes. I was just ambling along, lost in my thoughts. I had long since lost hope in believing that God existed. But all of a sudden, the curtain between Earth and Heaven disappeared, and I found myself in the presence of God, looking back over my life as if I had died. I saw that everything that had ever happened to me had been the most perfect thing that could have been arranged coming from the hands of an all-knowing, all-loving God, not only including those things that had caused the most suffering, but especially those things. I saw that I would have two great regrets after I died. Firstly, all the time and energy I had wasted worrying about not being loved when I had been held in an ocean of love, greater than anything I could imagine, at every moment of my existence, coming from this all-knowing, all-loving God. And secondly, every hour I had wasted doing nothing of value in the eyes of Heaven, since each moment contains the possibility of doing something valuable in God's eyes. Every time we take advantage of that opportunity we will very truly be rewarded for it for all eternity, and every opportunity we let slip and don't take advantage of, will be a lost opportunity for all eternity.? But the most overwhelming aspect of this experience was to come into the intimate, deep and certain knowledge that God Himself? the God who not only created everything that exists, but created existence itself?not only knew me by name and cared about me, He had been watching over me, every moment of my existence, arranging everything that ever happened to me in the most perfect way. He had actually known, and cared about how I felt every moment. In a very real way everything which made me happy made Him happy, and everything that made me sad made Him sad. ?I realized that the meaning and purpose of my life was to worship and serve my Lord, God and Master who was revealing Himself to me, but I didn't know His name or what religion this was. I couldn't think of this as the God of the Old Testament, or this religion as Judaism. The picture of God that emerges from the Old Testament is of a God far more distant, severe and judgmental than this God was. I knew He was my Lord and God and my master, and I wanted nothing else but to worship and serve Him properly, but I didn't know who He was or what religion to follow.? So I prayed, ?Let me know your name so I know what religion to follow. I don't mind if you are Buddha and I have to become a Buddhist; I don't mind if you?re Krishna and I have to become a Hindu; I don't mind if you?re Apollo and I have to become a Roman pagan. As long as you're not Christ and I have to become Christian!? Well, He respected that prayer and did not reveal His name to me. But I returned home happier than I had ever been in my life. All I wanted was to know the name of my Lord, God and master who had revealed Himself to me, and what religion to follow. So every night before I went to sleep I would say a short prayer that I had made up to know the name of my Lord, my God and master who had revealed Himself to me in that experience. Beauty beyond Words A year to the day after that first experience, I went to sleep after having said that prayer, as well as a prayer of thanksgiving for what had happened exactly a year earlier. I thought I was awoken by a hand touching my shoulder gently, and was led to a room and left alone with the most beautiful young woman I could ever imagine. I knew without being told that it was the Blessed Virgin Mary. When I found myself in Her presence all I wanted to do was fall on my knees and somehow honor Her appropriately.? In fact the first thought that crossed my mind was: ?Oh my Goodness I wish I at least knew the Hail Mary!? but I didn't. Her first words were an offer to answer any questions I might have for Her. Well, my first thought was to ask her to teach me the Hail Mary, so I could honor her appropriately, but I was too proud to admit that I didn't know it. So as an indirect way of getting her to teach me the Hail Mary, I asked her what her favorite prayer to her was. Her first response was, ?I love all prayers to me.? But I was a bit pushy, and said, ?But you must love some prayers more than others.? She relented and recited a prayer in Portuguese. I didn't know any Portuguese, so all I could do was try to remember the first few syllables phonetically and write them down as soon as I woke up the next morning. Later when I met a Portuguese Catholic woman, I asked her to recite the Marian prayers in Portuguese for me, and I identified the prayer as 'O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee'.? As perfectly beautiful as Mary was to look at, even more profoundly affecting was the beauty of her voice. The only way I can describe it is to say it was composed out of that which makes Music, Music. When she spoke the beauty of her voice flowed through me, carrying her love with it, and lifted me up into a state of ecstasy greater than I ever imagined could exist.? Most of my questions simply flowed out of my being overwhelmed by who She was. At one point, I stammered out, ?How can it be that you're so glorious, that you're so magnificent, that you're so exalted?? Her response was just to look down at me almost with pity and shake her head gently and saying 'Oh no, you don't understand. I'm nothing. I'm a creature. I'm a created thing. He's everything'.? Then again out of a desire to somehow honor her appropriately, I asked what title she liked best for herself. Her response was, ?I am the beloved daughter of the Father, Mother of the Son and Spouse of the Spirit.? I asked her several other questions of somewhat less significance, after which she spoke to me for another 10 or 15 minutes. After that, the audience was ended and I went back to sleep. The next morning when I woke up I was hopelessly in love with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and I knew I wanted nothing other than to be as fully and completely Christian as possible. From that experience I realized, of course, that the God who revealed Himself to me a year earlier had been Christ. In Search of? There was a shrine to Our Lady of La Salette about 45 minutes from where I lived. I began to go there three or four times a week, just to walk in the grounds, to feel the presence of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and to commune with her. The shrine was owned by the Catholic Church and so, sometimes, there would be a Holy Mass taking place. Whenever I was in the presence of a Mass, I was filled with a tremendous desire to receive the Eucharist, even though I did not know what it was. Those two things led me without too much of a detour into the Catholic Church?knowing who the Blessed Virgin Mary is, and wanting to receive Communion, daily if possible.? On entering the Catholic Church, I not only did not stop being Jewish but, as I see it, became more Jewish than ever, since in doing so I became a Jewish follower of the Jewish Messiah, rather than a Jew who had not recognized the Jewish Messiah and remained in ?pre- Messianic? Judaism. As I see it, the Catholic Church is post-Messianic Judaism and Judaism is pre-Messianic Catholicism: two phases in one and the same plan for salvation for all mankind. I am infinitely grateful that I received these experiences. I was brought into the fullness of the truth, into a personal relationship with God beyond anything I ever imagined could exist, into knowing the answers to all the questions about Man, about God, about the meaning of life, about what happens after you die, and so forth that tormented me growing up. Most importantly, I gained a well-founded hope of an eternity of unimaginable bliss and love in the presence of God. ARTICLE is based on the inspiring testimony shared by Dr. Roy Schoeman for the Shalom World program ?Jesus, My Saviour ?. To watch the episode visit: shalomworld.org/show/jesus-my-savior
Tap, tap. ?Who is there?? I asked. ?I Am Love,? came the reply. ?Come in. Do come in,? I begged in earnest. For it had been a long time since anyone had come to call and I was intrigued that someone so esteemed should come to me. Rattle, rattle went the doorknob as it twisted back and forth. ?You have locked your door,? came the Voice from outside. ?I shall unlock it at once,? I replied. But I could not. I discovered that the pathway to my entrance was barricaded. In fact, my room was so filled up with things that I could not even begin to clear a passage to reach the threshold. ?Please, come back tomorrow,? I instructed. ?Tomorrow I'll have an unlocked door.? So, Love retreated. And I set about the task of clearing a path for His return. Engaging all of my strength, I shoved this and that aside. The enterprise was taxing, but my resolve was strengthened by the prospect that Love would come again. Then having succeeded in pushing my most cumbersome belongings to the sidelines, I turned my attention to the nests of long-forgotten treasures that were now laid bare. I cast out the obvious rubbish and stacked the seemingly useful things. I made a channel through which to pass and, reaching the doorway, I unlatched the chains. Rap, rap. ?Who is there?? I asked in excitement as bright rays of sunlight poured through the cracks in my door. ?I Am Love,? He responded. ?Come in. Do come in,? I instructed, while unchaining the latch and pulling open the heavy door. ?Sit down. Do sit down,? I petitioned, pointing to the two seats, side-by-side. Love entered in and reclined. I sat beside Him for a minute, but then I leapt up and set about the job of entertaining. ?Look here,? I said, motioning to the pretty adornments on my walls. ?See these,? I instructed, arraying all my earthly treasures before Him. I babbled on and on for a long while. I told Love all about my accomplishments. I shared with Him my dreams. I revealed to Him my blueprints. He sat for hours in silent stillness while I flitted about the room. Before I knew it, the day had slipped by and Love stood to go. ?Do come back again tomorrow,? I invited. ?Tomorrow I will have more to offer.? Love stepped out of the door and down the lane. ?I should sleep,? I thought to myself, but I was too excited to lay my head on a pillow. Instead, I exhausted myself redecorating. I dragged a round table into the center of the room and nestled our chairs around it. I laid a starched, white cloth upon the table and displayed an antique vase on top. Then, I dug into the depths of my closet and retrieved my best frock. I worked through the night preparing my cell and myself. Having exposed all of my tales, plans and achievements during Love's last visit, I looked for novel sources of entertainment. I fished an old vinyl record from its dusty sleeve and set it on the long-unused player. Once satisfied with all my new arrangements, tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. Tap, tap. ?Who is there?? I called, rushing about the room touching up the last details as morning broke anew. ?I Am Love,? came the reply. ?Come in. Do come in,? I insisted flinging the door wide open. ?Come and sit at my table.? Love entered and took His place. ?Listen to this,? I cooed, setting the needle on the vinyl grooves. The space filled with noise as the record spun and a new energy swirled. For the next hours I swayed and whirled about in my fashionable attire. I danced before Love with seemingly endless enthusiasm. I sang the parts of the songs that I knew and hummed the tune when the lyrics eluded my memory. My heart was invigorated in my role as entertainer and I let go of my inhibitions, fancying myself an impressive hostess. And again the day was too quickly spent, such that as Love stood to go, I realized that He'd had no chance for Himself. I'd filled two days with my voice: speaking and singing. And I'd failed to hear Love's response. ?Oh, please, do come again tomorrow,? I pleaded. ?Come tomorrow and tell me all about Yourself: Your delights, Your stories, Your plans. Tomorrow I'll be prepared to listen.? In silence, Love exited. Rap, rap. ?Who is there?? I queried, as the warm glowing light of daybreak seeped through the entryway's crevices. ?I Am Love,? came the now familiar answer in the dawn. ?Come in. Do come in,? I said, ?today I wish to hear Your voice.? In truth, having worn myself out in the previous days, I was only too glad to be able to sit and allow Love to work. Love came in and reclined in His chair at my table, but no sound crossed His lips. He remained in silent stillness. I sat in silence, too, though I was not altogether comfortable with it. Several times I considered drawing upon my last reserves of energy, attempting to woo Him with some new tricks or trinkets. But then I remembered my promise and I continued to wait on His voice. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. The clock seemed to have stopped, or at least to have hesitated now and then, which led me to check it often. And in searching to hear Love's voice my ears attuned to all manner of other sounds: crowing...chirping...ticking... creaking...shifting...breathing... The silence was, at times, deafening. Wearied from my works and lulled by my anxious listening, I drifted in and out of sleep in the seat beside my Guest. Then, Love finally stood to leave. However, after this long day I wasn't quite sure what to expect of tomorrow. Love's silence had confused my understanding of the roles of friendship. I was losing confidence in my ability to be a good hostess. ?Perhaps, He ought to find a more suitable companion,? I considered in my mind. My heart in desolation, it seemed easier to allow Love to leave on this day. So, rather than bid Him return to me, I simply said, ?Goodbye.? Love left. I latched the door behind Him. Thoroughly spent, I kicked my shoes under the table, dropped my dress into a heap on the floor and made ready for bed. Then, I crawled beneath the patchwork quilt on my bed and heaved a sigh. I might have devoted some time to deciphering all that had come to pass between Love and me, but I hadn't the inclination at that moment. I was weary and dejected. Sleep beckoned and I readily submitted. At 3:33am, a gentle sound stirred on the other side of my latched door. Though it was barely more than a whisper, it called me from the depths of my slumber. Eyes wide open, I lay paralyzed for a minute while my mind worked to arouse; seeking to make sense of the hour and the circumstance. ?Who is there? I yelled, half fearing the reply. ?I Am Love,? was the answer. ?Love?? I asked. For though Love had been the only guest Who'd come to call on me, I was surprised by His arrival at such an hour. ?I am not prepared to entertain you just now,? I said. ?Come again tomorrow when I have had time to plan for your arrival.? Love spoke not another word, but instead stood waiting. For half a minute I remained buried under the patchwork quilt, wrestling between exhaustion and curiosity. The latter won the battle so I rose from my bed and fumbled in the darkness until I reached the latch. Standing inside, in the blackness, I paused. For it occurred to me that this time Love's entrance would be different. I couldn't understand how I knew this, but it was clear in my mind that I would never be the same if I invited Love in on His own terms. So, I drew in a long breath, unlocked the chains and pulled the door in with great care. Love entered. As His foot crossed the threshold, my cell was awash in soft Light, though He carried no lantern. The Light exposed even the remotest of corners in my room, leaving nothing unseen. Ashamed, I began to offer my apologies for my ragged appearance and ill-kept room, but He tenderly put his arm about my shoulder and absolved me of my anxieties. Then, He silently led me to my chair and I sat. Love made no speech, yet His Words filled my ears and instructed my intellect. Unlike the previous day, the outward silence now freed me from all distractions, allowing me to rest wholly in His Presence. Unattached to my plans and devoid of power, I discovered the security and serenity of being vulnerable to Love. He made no pretense nor accepted any. Love simply wrapped me in His embrace and all that had been before fell away. Love's hands had appeared empty when He entered, but from unseen resources He produced Bread and Wine upon the table. These He blessed and said, ?Take and eat.? Unaccustomed to dining at such an hour, I was strangely drawn to the meal. Deep inside, I experienced a hunger like never before. This desire penetrated deep within. So, I ate and I drank. Together, the sweet Bread and velvety Wine satiated the hunger, and yet they left me with a new thirst, a thirst for which no earthly remedy could suffice. I never wanted Love to depart from me again, so I made the decision to keep my door open and the pathway free. Like Solomon I implored, ?Set me as a seal upon Your heart.? Love smiled, for He already had.
A young couple introduced their eight-year-old (special needs) son, Gabriel, to the parish priest with a request to accept him as an altar server. The priest asked the boy, ?Do you want to be an altar server?? Instead of responding verbally, the boy hugged the priest around the waist, as high as he could reach. The following Sunday, Gabriel arrived punctually, 15 minutes before Mass as the priest had arranged. Since there was no sacristan, the priest had to run back and forth making preparations. It was not until Mass was about to begin that he realized Gabriel knew nothing about how to serve Mass. So, the priest said, ?Gabriel, do whatever I do, OK?? Gabriel was an obedient boy, and very literal. When Mass began and the priest kissed the altar, the boy kissed it too. During the homily, all were smiling and paying no attention to the priest because they were captivated by the cute altar server who was doing his best to imitate the priest?s every gesture. After Mass, the priest called little Gabriel to his side and explained what he should and should not do during Mass. He clarified that kissing the altar was a gesture reserved to the priest; ?The altar represents Christ, and the priest, while performing the sacrament, is joined in a special way to Him.? Although Gabriel was obedient, he was also frank, so he didn?t hesitate to say, ?But I want to kiss it, too.? Further explanations didn?t diminish the boy?s desire to kiss the altar, so the priest came up with a clever solution telling the boy that he would kiss the altar ?for both of them?. The boy seemed to accept this solution, at least for the moment. As he began Mass the following Sunday, the priest kissed the altar and watched to see what Gabriel would do. The boy did not kiss the altar; instead, he pressed his cheek against the altar and stayed there with a big smile on his face until the priest asked him to stop. After Mass, the pastor reviewed the instructions with the boy, reminding him he was not to kiss the altar and that the priest was doing it ?for both of them?. But the boy quickly disagreed, saying, ?I didn?t kiss it; it kissed me!? Taken aback, the priest said, ?Gabriel, don?t play games with me.? But the boy didn?t back down. ?It?s true!? he said. ?He filled me with kisses!? This incident, shared by Father Jos? Rodrigo L?pez Cepeda on social media, relates an incident from his early years at the parish of the Shrine of St. Orosia in Spain. Little Gabriel teaches us the importance of letting ourselves be loved by Jesus first, and of always remaining close, in good times and in bad. Have you been kissed by Him today?
We Need to Be Careful What We Pray for Because We Might Just Get It There is something very satisfying about the process and results of deep cleaning my home. For weeks, and sometimes months afterwards, the visible fruits of my efforts are enjoyed by my whole family. When the deep cleaning urge strikes, the satisfaction of tackling one area often leads to focusing on other parts of the house that require the same attention. Cleaning often leads to purging unneeded items and the car gets loaded with boxes of things that are destined for the thrift store. Heading to the thrift store one afternoon with a car load, it occurred to me that I was the one who purchased most of the things in those boxes. Although I did not realize it at the time of purchase, I was the one who made the decision to clutter my life and home with burdensome things. Likewise, it dawned on me that this same dilemma had also crept into my personal and family life. Over the years, I had filled my schedule with so many ?to do's'' that I had cluttered my own life. That thought made me aware that I needed to make some changes. My Cup Overflows Married life began when I was very young and full of energy. God blessed us with children right away and we embraced all the needs and activities that came along with the kids. I was a busy wife and mother. My cup was not only full...it overflowed. However, as full as my cup seemed, an increasing emptiness developed within me. Life felt unsettled, but I did not have the time to uncover what made my spirit restless. God had placed a growing desire in my heart to develop a closer relationship with Him. I knew many fragmented details about God, but I didn?t understand His story or my place in that story. There was very little time, let alone quality time, for God in my day. The Slow Down Effect Fifteen years and 4 children later, I recall a morning when I felt overly tired, a feeling had been building for quite some time. It was far more than fatigue. The momentum of life, built, hastened and grew year by year, hastened which eventually led my mind, body and spirit to become depleted. I finally reached out to God in desperation. I shouted at Him, ?LORD?.SLOW ME DOWN! I cannot do everything and I certainly cannot do it at this pace. Where are you? I know you are out there. I need you!? I have heard it said to be careful what you pray for because you might just get it. Well, God had been patiently and mercifully waiting a long time for me to call on Him. Within a few (still busy) months of my desperate prayer, I was bitten by a poisonous spider which thrust me into a downward spiral of various health problems. All activities didn?t just slow down, they stopped. I became extremely weak and painfully bedridden. Physician after physician, test after test, day after day.... I slowly slipped away. The frail woman that looked back at me from the mirror was a stranger; a shell of myself. ?Lord help me,? I cried. A Friendship to Treasure Little energy to do things made the days feel very long and lonely. One afternoon, the dusty Bible on my bed stand caught my attention. In hopes of finding inspirational words to comfort me, I opened its gilded pages. Day by day, that book became a welcome and treasured friend. However, I found more questions than answers in my head as I tried to understand, Who is this God? Why did He do the things He did? How do the stories relate? How do I, laying in this bed, fit into His story? Where is He now? Does He hear me? Even before I asked my questions God had been at work putting the right people in my life. Help was on the way. Months prior to becoming ill, I had hired a sweet little older lady, named Priscilla, to teach my kids and me how to play the piano. She came to our home for weekly lessons. Although she still came to teach my children, eventually I had to cancel my lessons because of weakness and fatigue. When Priscilla learned how ill I?d become, she shared her faith with me and offered to pray with me for healing. That moment opened up a friendship between us that I treasure to this day. Something for God The following week, Priscilla inquired about my health. I had not noticed any physical improvements, but I shared that I had started reading the Bible and it brought me comfort. I confessed, however, that I did not understand quite a few passages which frustrated me. Little did I know that our piano teacher was well versed in Scripture. Her eyes lit up as she explained her love for God and His Word. She offered to return the following week and share Bible time with me instead of our piano time. God had brought Priscilla (which means delight of the Lord) into my life and for over two years she delightfully answered my questions about Scripture. She prayed with me and helped me develop a meaningful prayer life. Prayer time led to a beautiful personal relationship with God. That empty restless feeling began to fade. Although still very sick, it occurred to me that I should begin to take the focus off myself and try to do something for Him. God had given me numerous talents, but in my condition I had little to give. ?Lord,? I prayed, ?I think I can still crochet.? I wondered how He could possibly use crocheting, but I offered it anyway. The following Sunday, too weak to attend Mass, I clicked on the TV hoping to find a Mass on the local Catholic channel. Instead, at that very moment, a broadcast from a church down the street from me was aired. Some friends and neighbors attended that church, so I wondered if any of them were there. As the service ended, a woman stood up to announce they were starting a new ministry called ?The Prayer Shawl Ministry? and crocheters and knitters were needed. I nearly fell out of my bed! God had heard my prayer and was calling me into service. I stumbled downstairs as fast as my weak legs could take me and called one of my friends who attended that church. ?Who was that lady...and how can I get involved with that ministry?? I urgently asked. God Called Me I offered what little I had and God called me to use it. When they held that ministry meeting, by His grace, He gave me the strength to make it to that little white church and I signed up to make Prayer Shawls for others. The shawls were to be given to the sick, lonely, dying and those needing comfort to remind them that others were thinking and praying for them. I crocheted many shawls and prayed for anyone who needed prayers. Their problems became my problems, and I made their needs more important than my own. Interestingly, that began the road to physical healing. With each day, my physical and spiritual life became stronger. After a few years my family moved from that rural New England town to a town in Northern California. Within a few months, God opened the door to start the Prayer Shawl Ministry in our new parish where He reminded me there was still work to be done for Him. I love the story of Martha and Mary in Luke?s Gospel (38-42) where Jesus helps Martha understand she needs to reorganize her priorities: ?You are worried and upset about many things,? He tells her, ?but few things are needed?or indeed only one.? Her sister Mary, on the other hand, simply ?sat at the Lord?s feet listening to what he said? and Jesus says that ?she has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.? I felt God was transforming me from Martha into Mary. It has been a long hard road to recovery. I still have tough days but God brought me from spiritual and physical depletion to a healthier life. I had to let go of many things I once thought were important. I had to deep clean my life, empty my cup and allow God to be the one who filled it. In Psalm 46:10 God tells us ?Be still and know that I am God.? So now, I lead a stiller life with time to ask the Holy Spirit for the discernment to choose only what God wants me involved in. My time, talents and treasure belong to Him, and I strive to remember to make room in my life to be with God, to feel His presence and hear His voice. Those are the ?things that are needed.? When we clean our homes and experience good results, we are inspired to improve other areas. This concept can work in our spiritual lives in the same manner. My experience taught me that, the more time I spend with God and invite Him into my life, the more positive things happen. For ?We know that all things work for good for those who love God? (Romans 8:28) So today, I encourage you to choose an area within your life that might be an obstacle to a closer relationship with Him. Offer that area to Him and invite Him to deepen your faith and relationship with Him. For as Saint Augustine so accurately and profoundly stated, ?You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.?
Prepare to be transformed as Kim Zember recounts how she freed herself from a homosexual lifestyle I was born and raised in a devout Catholic family with two older brothers in Southern California. I grew up knowing God and His love. Until eighth grade I went to a Catholic school where I was protected by God?s grace, but I struggled against it. I wanted to be like everybody else. Unfortunately, my parents heeded my pleas to transfer to a public high school where I treated people badly so I could get the attention I craved. I knew that the Lord had created me for greater things?to help others, but I was bored and I kept my eyes on myself. Riddled with Guilt In my senior year, I felt an attraction to a girl at school. I still don't know where that desire came from. I didn't have any sexual abuse in my life or any bitterness towards men. I started pursuing her ardently in a conniving, self-seeking way, wooing her into a romantic relationship. One night, when we were both drunk, I succeeded in breaking through to achieve the physical relationship that I thought I wanted. If only someone had stopped me in that moment before we connected in a way we were never meant to, and told me where this would take me. I hungered for more, just like when I eat a brownie, I want more, even though it?s not good for me and leaves me feeling sick. But she knew there was something wrong about what we?d done, felt riddled with guilt and didn?t even want to talk about it. I also knew that it was wrong, so I hid my relationships with women by dating guys, not because the Church said it was wrong, or because I cared about what people would say, but because a still, small voice within me was crying out to be heard, ?I have better for you Kim.? Sadly, I suppressed that inner voice, drowning it out by chasing women and money as my career in real estate took off. On the surface, it looked like I was doing well, making lots of money and dating a series of guys. But it was all built on lies. I dated a girl for almost two years, but nobody knew. I lied to everyone. I was becoming another person. I was one person with my girlfriend and another person with them. I was a chameleon with whoever I was around. A Twist The biggest draw for me was the emotional intimacy I experienced with women, not the physical relationship. They understood me; I understood them. I had always felt a desire to help people, especially if something was broken inside them. I never knew until later that it was a gift. But Satan wants to twist your special gift for his own purposes because he creates nothing. He twists and distorts everything, especially the goodness and gifts of God. That affection that God gave me for women was meant to be used to build healthy friendships, to support each other. But Satan twisted that when I crossed a line and expressed that affection in an inappropriate physical way. Every relationship that I was in became twisted and unhealthy. Although they were amazing people and I was able to help them in some important ways, like getting off drugs, I was hurting them in much deeper ways. I went to see a Catholic counselor, shared everything with him and he affirmed that I was gay. I could never accept that, but he told me that I didn?t understand Scripture. My ears loved hearing it, but I never had peace with that because I knew that wasn?t true, although I accepted it because it meant that I could do whatever I wanted. Exploding Heart At 23, I was dating a wonderful Christian guy. My heart was drawn to him and his love for the Lord, so when he told me that he loved me, I should have been ecstatic. Instead, I got furiously angry, because I knew what was going on inside me and my secret relationship with this girl. How could a guy who was so connected with God love me? How could someone who was so spiritually motivated, love someone who was so materially motivated? When I questioned him, he simply said, ?I love your heart, but if you want to know your heart, you need to ask God to show you.? I was dumbstruck. I went into my room and cried out from the depth of my heart, ?God show me my heart?. I didn?t expect God to answer right away, but I felt myself lifted up into a scene from my life that I had totally forgotten. I saw myself in 7th grade, listening, enthralled, to a priest speak about his mission in Africa. I grabbed my mother?s arm and told her, ?I want to go to Africa.? Although she reminded me of how much I hated dirt and flies and discomfort, I wouldn?t quit, so we went up to see the priest afterwards. He listened attentively, then hugged me, saying, ?If the Lord ever wants you in Africa, He will take you, just keep praying?. Although l had no memory of this, my mother later confirmed it. I felt my heart exploding inside. I called my boyfriend and announced, ?I'm going to Africa!? The Lord spoke and I ran. He showed me what I was created for. All that passion could be poured out and have a massive effect on other people. I saw kids who had lost their parents, who weren't eating. When you hug that kid, and you get lice from that kid or contract their skin rashes?those are truly gifts. These children truly transformed me and opened my heart. The Lord says that if you want to find me, look among the destitute, the widow, the orphan, the poor, the imprisoned. I came back from Ethiopia with my heart alive and beating. I gave up my career earning $200,000 per year, sold my house, my car and everything I had. I moved back to Ethiopia with the guy who had opened my heart to all this. Before we got married, I confessed everything I'd done and he said, ?If you want to be with women then you could choose that, but if you want to be with me, then choose me? and I chose him. Downward Spiral On the night of my wedding I got on my knees and said ?Lord I will never cheat on this man with a woman? and I meant it with everything I had. What I didn't understand was that I didn't have the strength to do that on my own. I needed my Savior?s help. I wasn't immersed in His Word. I was just going through the motions. It?s good to develop good habits by going through the motions like brushing your teeth and saying your prayers, or dragging yourself or your children to Mass because you?re engraining good things, but it?s just a beginning. Just a year after we married, when we returned from Africa, I cheated on my husband with a married woman. We both left our husbands and ended up divorced. This started a rapid downward spiral in my life. Things began to get worse when she wanted to have a baby. That's where I drew the line because I knew that a baby needed a father and I didn?t want to play God, so we broke up. For another two years, I had a series of relationships with women, but I felt more broken with everyone. I was breaking my own heart and breaking other people. My family loved me through all this, but they never condoned my actions. They always affirmed what God has made me to be and called me to higher things. It wasn?t hateful. It?s what I needed. They always reminded me that I was made and created for more. When they realized that inviting my girlfriends to join in family functions was affirming my lifestyle, they made the hard decision to say they couldn?t do that anymore, I felt angry, accusing them of being judgmental, and withdrew for a while, but they were the ones who were still there for me no matter what. Power of Surrender When my latest girlfriend cheated on me and I felt at my lowest ebb, I turned back to God in tears, praying, ?Lord, I surrender. I trust that You are God and I am NOT. If You show me that You have better plans than me, then I will serve You for the rest of my days.? That night, my friend, Daniel took me to a prayer meeting with an African preacher, but when I noticed how beautiful the pianist was, I had to cover my eyes to avoid temptation because I didn't want to see anything but God. When they called people forth for prayer, I went up with my friends, but kept my eyes tightly shut. As we reached the head of the line, I was stunned to hear the preacher blasting Daniel as if he knew all his faults. I had never experienced prophecy and I was afraid of what he would say about me for everyone to hear. Next moment, the preacher started declaring victory over my life in the name of Jesus Christ. He declared, ?You have surrendered your life to Him and finally you have given it all. You will live for Him in everything.? He spoke the words that I had cried out to God in offering my surrender, the redirection that I had begged from Him. I knew that it was God Almighty speaking to me through him. All these years I have been able to sustain in God?s grace and my spiritual life has completely transformed. The key to walking in freedom is to have a personal relationship with Jesus. Having a deeper intimacy with Him through Daily Mass in Holy Communion, daily time with Scriptures, frequent confession, Adoration, Praise and Worship music, going to Catholic conferences and being in Christian community have all helped in my walk with Christ. As I began to do more and more of all these, I found myself doing less and less of the other things, which helped me to grow in the Spirit and out of my flesh. For me everything fell in place as I grew in personal relationship with Jesus. Surely He leads us all out of darkness and into His perfect light! I hope that my brokenness can bring hope to anyone who needs encouragement to stand in the truth of God because what God has said will always be better than our own opinion. Let God continue to be God. Listen to Him when He speaks of His plans for males and females and relationships. He showed us what love is on the Cross. Love is sacrifice. My life is not my own. He is calling me into a deeper relationship with Him every day.
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A repeated whisper from above, numerous failed attempts?all solved by a children?s story! There is a wonderful tale by Hans Christian Andersen entitled The Steadfast Tin Soldier that I have taken immense pleasure in reading aloud to my daughter, and she, in listening to it. This one-legged tin soldier?s brief existence is marked by tribulation after tribulation. From falling from several storeys to nearly drowning to being swallowed by a fish like Jonah, the handicapped fighter comes to understand suffering quite quickly. Through it all, though, he does not hesitate, falter, or flinch. Oh, to be like the tin soldier! Discovering the Reason Literalists and pessimists might attribute his steadfastness to the fact that he is made of tin. Those who appreciate metaphor will say it is because he has a deep knowledge of his identity. He is a soldier, and soldiers do not let fear or anything, for that matter, steer them from their course. The trials wash over the tin soldier, but he remains unchanged. At times, he admits that if he were not a soldier, he would do such and such?like shed tears?but those things he did not do, for it would not be in line with who he was. In the end, he is cast into a stove where, reminiscent of Saint Joan of Arc, he is engulfed in flames. His remains are later found by the housemaid, reduced to?or one might say, transformed into?a perfectly shaped tin heart. Yes, the fires that he so resolutely endured molded him into love! Perhaps, all that is required to become steadfast is to know one's identity? The question then is, what is our identity? I am, and you are, too, a daughter (or son) of the King of the Universe. If only we know and never cease to claim this identity, we too can be steadfast on the journey toward becoming like Love Himself. If we go about our days knowing that we are princesses and princes gallivanting about our Father's castle, what would we fear? What would make us quake, turn back, or crumble? No falls or floods or flames could make us step aside from the path toward sainthood that has been so lovingly laid before us. We are beloved children of God, destined to become saints if we only stay the course. The trials will become joys because they will not pull us from our path but, if endured well, will ultimately transform us into that which we long to be! Our hope and joy can always remain, for even if all about us is hardship, we are still beloved, chosen, and made to be with the Father in Heaven for all eternity. Sorrows into Joy! When the Angel Gabriel, on his mission to receive Mary?s fiat, sees Mary's fear, he tells her: ?Do not be afraid, for you have found favor with God.? (Luke 1:30) What glorious news! And how glorious that we, too, have found favor with God! He made us, loves us, and desires for us to be with Him always. So, we, like Mary, need not be afraid, no matter what difficulty comes our way. Mary steadfastly accepted all that came her way, knowing that His Providence is perfect and that the salvation of all mankind was at hand. She stood at the foot of the Cross in the moments of her greatest suffering and remained. In the end, though Mary?s heart was pierced by many swords, she was assumed into Heaven and crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth, to be with Love forever. Her steadfastness and loving endurance through suffering paved the way to her Queenship. Yes, the sorrow of the Pieta became the glory of the Assumption. The martyrdom of so many holy men and women made them a part of the Heavenly host praising the Lord forevermore. Like our Mother and the Saints, may we accept the grace to be steadfast, standing tall amidst sorrow, flames, and all other circumstances that try to divert us from the Lord?s open arms. May we be firmly rooted in our identity as children made in the Father's image. May we, like the renowned poet Tennyson once wrote: ?Be strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield!? May we, after it all, become like Love.
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
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.
Are you quick to judge others? Are you hesitant to help someone in need? Then, it?s time to reflect! It was?just?another?day for me. Returning from the market, weary from the day?s labor,?collecting?Roofus from the Synagogue school? However, something felt different?that day. The?wind?was whispering in my ear,?and even?the sky?was?more expressive than usual.?Commotion?from a crowd?in the streets confirmed for me that today, something was going to change. Then,?I saw Him?His body so disfigured that I?turned?Roofus away from this fearful sight. The poor boy?gripped my arm with all his might?he was?terrified. The?way?this man, well, what was left of Him, was being handled?must?mean he?had?done something?terrible. I could not?bear to?stand and watch,?but as?I began to leave,?I was seized by?a Roman?soldier. To my horror, they?commanded?me?to help this man to bear His heavy load.?I?knew this meant trouble. Despite?resisting,?they asked me to help Him. What a mess!?I did not want to?associate with a sinner.?How?humiliating! To carry a cross whilst all of them watched? I knew?there was?no escape,?though,?so I?asked?my?neighbor?Vanessa?to take Roofus home?because this trial would take a while. I?walked over?to?Him?filthy, bloody, and disfigured.? I wondered what he had done to deserve this.?Whatever?be it,?this punishment was way too?cruel. The bystanders?were yelling?out??blasphemer,???liar,??and??King of the Jews,??whilst others?were?spitting at him?and?abusing?him. I?had never been so humiliated and?mentally?tortured like this before. After taking only about ten to fifteen steps with him, he fell to the ground, face first.?For this trial to end, he needed?to get?up, so?I bent over to help him up. Then, in?his eyes, I saw something that?changed me. I saw?compassion and love? How could this be? No fear, no anger, no hatred?just love and sympathy. I?was taken aback,?whilst with those eyes, He looked at me and held my hand to get back up.?I could no longer hear or see the people around me.?As?I?held?the Cross?on?my one shoulder and?Him?on?my other,?I could only keep looking at Him.?I saw the?blood, the?wounds,?the spit,?the?dirt,?everything that?could no longer hide the divinity of His face.?Now?I?heard?only?the beating of His heart and His?labored?breathing?He was struggling, yet so?very,?very strong. Amid all the noise of the people screaming, abusing, and scurrying about, I felt?as?though He was speaking to me. Everything else?I had done till that point, good or bad, seemed?pointless. When?the Roman?soldiers?pulled?Him?from me?to drag Him to the place of?crucifixion, they?shoved me?aside,?and?I fell?to?the ground. He had to continue on His own. I lay there on the ground as people trampled over me.?I did not know what?to?do?next.?All I knew was that Iife?was never?going to be the same again. I could no longer hear the crowd but?only the?silence?and the sound of my heart beating. I was?reminded?of the?sound?of His?tender?heart. A few hours later, as I was about to get up to leave, the expressive sky from earlier began to speak. The ground beneath me shook! I?looked?ahead at the top of Calvary and saw Him, arms stretched and head bowed, for me. I?know?now?that?the blood?splattered on my garment?that day?belonged to?the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.?He cleansed me with His blood. *** *** *** This is how?I?imagine Simon of Cyrene?recalling his?experience of?the day he was asked to?help?Jesus carry the Cross to Calvary.?He had probably heard very little of Jesus till that day, but I?am very sure that?he was not?the same?person after he helped the Savior carry that?Cross. This Lenten season, Simon asks us to look into ourselves: Have we been too quick to judge people? Sometimes, we?are?too?quick?to believe?what?our?instincts tell?us about?somebody. Just like Simon, we may?let our judgments?come in the way of?helping others. Simon saw Jesus?being?scourged?and assumed that He?ought to?have done something wrong.?There might have been?times?when?we?let our presumptions about a person?come in the way of?loving?them?as?Christ?called us to. Are we hesitant to help some people? Shouldn?t we see Jesus in others and reach out to help them? Jesus asks us to love?not only our friends but also?strangers and enemies. Mother Teresa,?being the?perfect example of loving strangers,?showed us how to see the face of Jesus in everyone.?Who?better to point at for an example of?loving?enemies?than Jesus Christ Himself??He loved those who?hated him and prayed for those who persecuted him.?Like Simon, we may?feel hesitant?about?reaching out to strangers?or?enemies, but?Christ?calls?us to love our brothers and sisters?just?as?He?did. He?died for their sins as much as He died for yours. Lord Jesus, thank You for giving us the example of Simon of Cyrene, who became a great witness for following Your Way. Heavenly Father, grant us the grace to become Your witnesses by reaching out to those in need.
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