Amazing Miracle!

If I hadn't gone through that darkness, I wouldn't be where I am today. My parents really wanted to have a family, but my mom wasn't able to get pregnant until she was 40. I was their miracle baby, born on her birthday, exactly one year after she completed a special Novena in petition for a child. I was gifted with a baby brother one year later. My family was nominally Catholic; we would go to Sunday Mass and receive the Sacraments, but there was nothing more. When I was about 11 or 12, my parents turned away from the Church and my faith life took an incredibly long pause. Writhing Agony Teenage years were packed with pressure, a lot of which I put on myself. I’d compare myself to other girls; I wasn't happy with my appearance. I was highly self-conscious and anxious. Though I excelled academically, I had a difficult time in school because I was very ambitious. I wanted to get ahead—show people that I could be successful and intelligent. We didn't have much money as a family, so I figured that studying well and getting a good job was going to solve it all. Instead, I got sadder and sadder. I would go for sports and celebrations, but I would wake up the next day and feel all empty. I had a few good friends, but they too had their own struggles. I remember trying to support them and ending up questioning the why of all the suffering around me. I was lost, and this sadness made me close-up and curl into myself. When I was about 15, I fell into the habit of self-harm; as I later realized, at that age, I didn't have the maturity or the ability to speak about what I was feeling. As pressure intensified, I gave in to suicidal thoughts, multiple times. During one hospitalization incident, one of the doctors saw me in such agony and said: “Do you believe in God? Do you believe in something after death?” I thought it was the strangest question to ask, but that night, I remembered reflecting on it. That's when I cried out to God for help: “God, if you exist, please help me. I want to live—I'd like to spend my life doing good, but I'm not even capable of loving myself. Whatever I do, everything ends in burnout if I don't have a meaning for all of it.” A Hand of Help I started to talk to Mother Mary, hoping that maybe she could understand and help me. Shortly after, my mother’s friend invited me to go on a pilgrimage to Međugorje. I didn’t really want to, but I accepted the invitation, more for curiosity to see a new country and nice weather. Surrounded by people who were praying the Rosary, fasting, walking up mountains, and going to Mass, I felt out of place but at the same time, I was also slightly intrigued. It was the time of the Catholic Youth Festival, and there were around 60,000 young people there, attending Mass and Adoration, praying the Rosary every day; not because they were forced to, but joyfully, from pure desire. I wondered if these people had perfect families which made it really easy for them to believe, clap, dance, and all of that. Truth be told, I craved that joy! While we were on the pilgrimage, we listened to the testimonies of girls and boys in a Cenacolo Community nearby, and that really changed things for me. In 1983, an Italian nun founded the Cenacolo Community to help young people whose lives had taken a wrong turn. Now, the organization can be found in many countries worldwide. I listened to the story of a girl from Scotland who had drug problems; she had also attempted to take her own life. I thought to myself: “If she can live that happily, if she can come out of all that pain and suffering and genuinely believe in God, maybe there's something in that for me as well.” Another great grace that I received when I was in Međugorje was that I went for confession for the first time in many years. I did not know what to expect but going to confession and finally saying out loud to God all of the things that had hurt me, all that I had done to hurt others and myself, was an enormous weight off my shoulders. I just felt peace, and I felt clean enough to make a fresh start. I came back touched and started University in Ireland, but sans adequate support, I ended up in the hospital again. Finding Way Realizing that I needed help, I went back to Italy and became a part of a Cenacolo Community. It wasn't easy. Everything was new—the language, prayer, different personalities, cultures—but there was a truth in it. Nobody was trying to convince me of anything; everyone was living their life in prayer, work, and true friendship, and it was healing them. They were living peace and joy, and it wasn't made up but real. I was with them all day, every day—I saw it. I wanted that! What really helped me those days was Adoration. I don't know how many times I just cried in front of the Blessed Sacrament. A therapist wasn’t speaking back to me, no one was trying to give me any medication, it just felt like I was being cleansed. Even in the community, there was nothing particularly special, except for God. Another thing that really helped me get out of my depression was that I started looking to serve others. As long as I kept looking at my own self, my own wounds and problems, I was just digging myself into a bigger hole. The community life forced me to come out of myself, look to others, and try to give them hope, the hope that I was finding in Christ. It helped me so much when other young people would come to the community, young girls who had problems similar to mine or sometimes even worse. I looked after them, tried to be an older sister, and sometimes even a mother. I started to think about what my mother would have experienced with me when I was hurting myself or when I was unhappy. There's often a certain sense of helplessness, but with faith, even when you can't help someone with your words, you can do so on your knees. I've seen the change in so many girls and in my own life from prayer. It's not something mystical or something I could explain theologically, but faithfulness to the Rosary, Prayer, and Sacraments has changed my life and so many other lives, and it has given us a new will to live. Passing it on I returned to Ireland to pursue a career in nursing; in fact, more than a career, I felt deeply that it's how I wanted to spend my life. I'm now living with young people, some of whom are like me when I was their age—struggling with self-harm, depression, anxiety, substance abuse, or impurity. I feel that it’s important to tell them what God did in my life, so sometimes during lunch, I tell them that I wouldn't really be able to do this job, see all the suffering and pain if I didn't believe that there was something more to life than just death after illness. People often tell me: “Oh, your name is Joy, it suits you so much; you're so happy and smiley.” I laugh inside: “If you only knew where that came from!” My joy is one that arose from suffering; that's why it's a true joy. It lasts even when there's pain. And I want the young people to have the same joy because it's not just mine, but it's a joy that comes from God, so everyone can also experience it. I just want to be able to share this infinite joy of God so that others can know that you can go through pain, misery, and difficulties and still come out of it, grateful and joyful to our Father.

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.

Would my life ever return to normal? How can I possibly continue my work? Brooding over these, a terrible solution popped into my head… I was finding life extremely stressful. In my fifth year at college, the onset of bipolar disorder was hindering my efforts to complete my teaching degree. I had no diagnosis yet, but I was plagued with insomnia, and I looked frazzled and unkempt, which impeded my prospects of employment as a teacher. Since I had strong natural tendencies toward perfectionism, I felt so ashamed and feared that I was letting everyone down. I spiraled into anger, despondency, and depression. People were concerned about my decline and tried to help. I was even sent to the hospital by ambulance from the school, but doctors could find nothing wrong except elevated blood pressure. I prayed but found no consolation. Even Easter Mass—my favorite time—didn’t break the vicious cycle. Why wouldn’t Jesus help me? I felt so angry with Him. Finally, I just stopped praying. As this continued, day after day, month after month, I didn’t know what to do. Would my life ever return to normal? It seemed unlikely. As graduation approached, my fear increased. Teaching is a tough job with few breaks, and the students would need me to remain level-headed while dealing with their many needs and providing a good learning environment. How could I possibly do this in my current state? A terrible solution popped into my head: “You should just kill yourself.” Instead of casting off that thought and sending it straight back to hell where it belonged, I let it sit. It seemed like a simple, logical answer to my dilemma. I just wanted to be numb instead of under constant attack. To my utter regret, I chose despair. But, in what I expected to be my last moments, I thought of my family and the type of person I had once been. In genuine remorse, I raised my head to the heavens and said: “I’m so sorry, Jesus. Sorry for everything. Just give me what I deserve.” I thought those would be the last words I would utter in this life. But God had other plans. Listening to the Divine My mother was, by providence, praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet at that very moment. Suddenly, she heard the words loud and clear in her heart “Go find Ellen.” She obediently set aside her rosary beads and found me on the floor of the garage. She caught on quickly, exclaiming in horror: “What are you doing?!” while she pulled me into the house. My parents were heartbroken. There’s no rulebook for times such as these, but they decided to take me to Mass. I was totally broken, and I needed a Savior more than ever before. I longed for a come-to-Jesus moment, but I was convinced that I was the last person in the world He would ever want to see. I wanted to believe that Jesus is my Shepherd and would come after His lost sheep, but it was hard because nothing had changed. I was still consumed by intense self-hatred, oppressed by darkness. It was almost physically painful. During the preparation of the gifts, I broke down in tears. I had not cried for a really long time, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I was at the end of my own strength, with no idea where to go next. But as I wept, the weight slowly lifted, and I felt myself enfolded in His Divine Mercy. I didn’t deserve it, but He gave me the gift of Himself, and I knew that He loved me the same at my lowest point as much as He loved me at my highest point. In Pursuit of Love In the days to come, I could barely face God, but He kept showing up and pursuing me in the little things. I re-established communication with Jesus with the aid of a Divine Mercy picture in our living room. I tried to talk, mostly complaining about the struggle and then feeling bad about it in light of the recent rescue. Weirdly, I thought I could hear a tender voice whispering: “Did you really think I would leave you to die? I love you. I will never forsake you. I promise to never leave you. All is forgiven. Trust in my mercy.” I wanted to believe this, but I couldn’t trust that it was true. I was growing discouraged at the walls I was erecting, but I kept chatting with Jesus: “How do I learn to trust You?” The answer surprised me. Where do you go when you feel no hope but have to go on living? When you feel totally unlovable, too proud to accept anything yet desperately wanting to be humble? In other words, where do you want to go when you want a full reconciliation with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit but are too scared and disbelieving of a loving reception to find your way home? The answer is the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, and Queen of Heaven. While I was learning to trust, my awkward attempts did not displease Jesus. He was calling me closer, closer to His Sacred Heart, through His Blessed Mother. I fell in love with Him and His faithfulness. I could admit everything to Mary. Although I feared that I could not keep my promise to my earthly mother because, on my own, I was still barely mustering the will to live, my mother inspired me to consecrate my life to Mary, trusting that she would help me get through this. I didn’t know much about what that meant, but 33 Days to Morning Glory and Consoling the Heart of Jesus by Father Michael E. Gaitley, MIC, helped me understand. The Blessed Mother is always willing to be our intercessor, and she will never turn down a request from a child wanting to return to Jesus. As I went through the consecration, I resolved never to attempt suicide again with the words: “No matter what happens, I will not quit.” Meanwhile, I started taking long walks on the beach while I talked with God the Father and meditated on the parable of the prodigal son. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the prodigal son, but it took me some time to get close to God the Father. First, I imagined Him at a distance, then walking toward me. Another day, I pictured Him running towards me even though it made Him look ridiculous to His friends and neighbors. Finally, the day came when I could picture myself in the arms of the Father, then being welcomed not just to His home but to my seat at the family table. As I envisaged Him pulling out a chair for me, I was no longer a headstrong young woman but a 10-year-old girl with ridiculous glasses and a bob haircut. When I accepted the Father’s love for me, I became like a little child again, living in the present moment and trusting Him completely. I fell in love with God and His faithfulness. My Good Shepherd has saved me from the prison of fear and anger, continuing to lead me along the safe path and carrying me when I falter. Now, I want to share my story so that everyone can know God’s goodness and love. His Sacred Heart is welling up with tender love and mercy just for you. He wants to love you lavishly, and I encourage you to welcome Him without fear. He will never abandon you or let you down. Step into His light and come home.

Have you been dreaming of a lasting peace that seems to somehow evade you no matter how hard you try?  It is natural for us to constantly feel unprepared in an ever-changing, unpredictable world. In this scary and exhausting ordeal, it’s easy to become frightened—like a trapped animal with nowhere to run. If only we worked harder, longer, or were more in control, maybe we could catch up and finally be free to relax and find peace. I have lived this way for decades. Relying on myself and my efforts, I never really 'caught up.' I slowly realized it was an illusion to live that way. Eventually, I found a solution that has been revolutionary for me. It may feel the opposite of what is required, but trust me when I say this: Surrendering is the answer to this laborious search for peace. The Perfect Move As a Catholic, I know that I am supposed to give my heavy loads to the Lord. I also know that I am supposed to ‘let Jesus take the wheel' so that my burden would become lighter. My problem was that I did not know how to "give my burdens to the Lord." I would pray, beg, make the occasional deal, and once, even gave God a deadline (that one ended with me being schooled at a retreat by Saint Padre Pio: "Don't give God deadlines." Message received!). So, what are we to do? As humans, we base everything on a pixel of information we have at our disposal and an excruciatingly minute understanding of all factors, natural and supernatural. While I may have my thoughts on the best solutions, I hear Him loud and clear in my head: "My ways are not your ways, Barb, nor are my thoughts your thoughts," says the Lord. Here's the deal. God is God, and we are not. He knows everything—past, present, and future. We know squat. Of course, God, in His all-encompassing wisdom, understands things better than us, as well as the perfect move to make in time and history. How to Surrender If nothing in your life is working by all your human efforts, surrendering them is essential. But surrendering doesn’t mean looking at God as a vending machine whereby we put in our prayers and select how we want Him to answer. If, like me, you are struggling to surrender, I would love to share the antidote I found: the Surrender Novena. I was introduced to it a few years ago and am grateful beyond words. Servant of God, Father Don Dolindo Ruotolo, Spiritual Director to Padre Pio, received this Novena from Christ Jesus. Each day of the novena brilliantly speaks to every individual in ways only the Lord would know how to address. Rather than the same repetitive words each day, Christ, who knows us all too well, reminds us of all the ways we tend to get in the way of authentically surrendering, thus impeding the Master's work in His own way and time. The closing statement: "O Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything," is repeated ten times. Why? Because we need to believe and fully trust in Christ Jesus to perfectly take care of everything.

Life seems too difficult sometimes, but if you hold on and trust, unexpected gifts can surprise you. “Protect us from all fear and anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.” Being a lifelong Catholic, I’d recited this prayer at every Mass. Fear hasn’t been my companion for many years, though there was a time when it was. I’d come to know the “perfect love” described in 1 John 4:18, and was helped to live in the reality of He who conquers fear. I seldom experience anxiety at this point in my life, but one morning I did feel a sense of foreboding. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the cause. Recently, tripping on a curb resulted in a hard fall, and I was still feeling discomfort in my hip and pelvis. Sharp pains resurfacing every time I lifted my arms reminded me that my shoulders still needed more time to heal. New job stresses and the sudden death of a dear friend’s son added to my angst. The state of our world alone can cause significant distress for anyone who spends much time digesting the headlines. Despite the unknown origin of my unease, I knew how to respond. Closing my eyes, I surrendered the heavy burden I was feeling. Angels Working Overtime The next day, while I was driving to a patient’s home, a tropical storm developed unexpectedly. Traffic was heavy, and despite beaming headlights and decreasing speed, visibility was obscured by pounding sheets of rain. Out of nowhere, I felt another vehicle’s impact, pushing my car into the right lane! Surprisingly calm, I steered to the emergency lane, despite a now flattened tire’s drag. A fire rescue vehicle soon pulled up; a paramedic who hopped into my car to avoid the torrential downpour inquired if I was hurt. No...I wasn’t! That seemed highly unlikely since it had only been a few days since the lingering aftereffects of my fall had ceased. I’d prayed for protection that morning before setting out, knowing what the weather predicted. Clearly, the angels had been working overtime; cushioning first my fall, then the slam from this crash. With my car now in the body shop and insurance covering the repairs, my husband Dan and I packed for our long-planned vacation. Just before we left, I was disheartened to hear that our insurer was almost certainly going to total my car! Only five years old and in pristine condition prior to the crash, its Blue Book value currently was a mere $8,150. That wasn’t good news! We intended to keep this fuel-efficient hybrid as long as it would keep running, even purchasing an extended warranty to ensure our plan. Taking a deep breath, I again acted on what I’ve learned to do in situations beyond my control: I released it to God and asked for His intervention. Unfailing Prayer Once in Salt Lake City, we secured our rental car and were soon driving through the beautiful Grand Teton National Park. Pulling into the parking garage of the hotel that evening, I uncharacteristically backed into a narrow spot. While Dan unloaded our luggage, I noticed a screw in one tire. My husband’s concern about the puncture prompted him to call various service centers. Finding none open on Sundays, we decided to take our chances driving. The next morning, we said a prayer and set out, hoping the tire would hold while driving on the narrow mountain roads in and out of Yellowstone. Fortunately, the day was uneventful. Arriving at the Hampton Inn, where Dan had made a reservation months before, our jaws dropped! Right next door was a tire repair shop! Monday morning’s quick service meant we were on the road in less than an hour! It turned out that the tire was leaking, so the repair averted a possible blowout—a blessing since we ended up driving over 1200 miles that week! My body shop, meanwhile, authorized further investigation for “hidden damages” from the accident. If found, the cost would exceed the car’s value and definitely lead to totaling! Praying daily, I yielded the outcome and waited. Finally, I was informed that the cost of the repairs had come in just under the wire...they would fix my car after all! (A few weeks later, as I went to pick up my refurbished car, I found that the cost had indeed exceeded the Blue Book value, but my prayer was answered too!) A Spectacular Blessing Another example of God’s providential care came as we continued on our trek into Yellowstone National Park! The parking lot was jammed when we arrived. We circled aimlessly when suddenly, a spot was available near the front! We hurriedly parked and walked over to find out that the next eruption of the Old Faithful* was expected in ten minutes. With just enough time to get to the viewing area, the geyser exploded! We traced the path of the boardwalk through the various geological formations, springs, and geysers. My outdoors-loving husband busily snapped pictures, one after another! Marveling at the amazing spectacle surrounding us, I glanced at my watch...the next eruption of Old Faithful was expected soon. Sprays burst as expected into the air, this time not obscured by tourists since we were on the back side of the geyser! Feeling grateful, I thanked God for the day’s blessings—first, the tire shop’s perfect location, then the good news from the insurance company about my car, and finally, the amazing spectacle of nature. Reflecting on God’s active presence, I prayed: “Thank you for loving us, Lord! I know You love every other person on earth just as much, but Dan connects with You so strongly in Creation, would You reveal Yourself to him once more?” Continuing to amble along, my husband’s camera battery died. Sitting while he replaced it, I heard a strange sound. I turned around to see a huge explosion. It was spectacular—the Beehive was twice as high as Old Faithful! Looking into our guidebook, we read that this geyser was one of the best, but so unpredictable that eruptions could occur from anywhere between 8 hours to up to 5 days...but, it was at the moment we were there that it happened! For sure, God was manifesting Himself to my husband just as I’d asked! Our final stop featured several geysers where a gentleman offered to take our picture. The moment he clicked the shutter, that geyser let loose! We experienced yet another unexpected gift of God’s perfect timing and blessing! As if basking in the beauty of the incredible vistas, waterfalls, mountains, lakes, and rivers wasn’t enough, we also experienced beautiful weather! Despite the prediction of rain every day, we encountered only a few brief showers and lovely temperatures day and night! I had come full circle from my recent stress and anxiety. Surrender led to an immersion in Jesus’ care as well as in the awesome wonder of our Creator! That prayer I had said so many times at Mass was certainly answered! I had been protected, both from fear and serious injury, while being released from anxiety. Waiting had indeed resulted in joyful hope….the anchor for my soul.

Discover the beauty of making the best New Year Resolution this year As we stand on the cusp of a new year, the air is filled with anticipation, hope, and the promise of a fresh start. For many, this transition symbolizes a chance to leave behind the burdens of the past and embark on a journey of growth and healing. I, too, have walked this path—navigating the complexities of life, finding solace, strength, and joy through the transformative grace of prayer. Stroke of Midnight A few years ago, I found myself grappling with the remnants of past pains that seemed to weigh heavily on my heart. The scars of disappointments and losses had etched their marks, leaving me yearning for a fresh start. It was in this introspective moment that I made a resolution—a resolution that would set me on a path toward grace and healing. As the clock struck midnight, I resolved to dedicate myself to the transformative power of prayer. This resolution was not borne out of a fleeting desire for change but from a deep-seated need to mend the broken pieces of my soul and find the joy that had eluded me for far too long. In the early days of the new year, the familiar ache of my past pains made the journey of keeping my resolution a challenging one. Distractions and doubts attempted to derail my commitment, but I clung to my faith and determination. Through persistent prayer, I began to experience subtle shifts within me—whispers of grace touching my wounded spirit. As the months unfolded, the graces poured into my life like a gentle rain, soothing the parched land of my heart. I found the courage to forgive those who had wronged me and understand that forgiveness was a gift I gave myself. It was liberating, a divine grace that released me from the shackles of bitterness, allowing me to embrace love and joy. Stick to Your Resolution The path wasn't without its thorns, but the grace of prayer infused me with the strength and resilience to persevere. I realized that this journey was not merely about sticking to a resolution—it was about embracing a life illuminated by the radiant light of faith. Consistency in prayer played a pivotal role in my journey of healing and renewal. I often found it challenging to maintain this new habit amidst life's struggles and distractions. Here are a few tips that helped me stay on track and keep my resolution alive: Set a Sacred Time: Find a specific time of day that works best for you to pray consistently. It could be in the morning before the day's chaos begins, during a quiet lunch break, or in the evening to reflect on the day. This dedicated time will help establish a routine. Create a Sacred Space: Designate a special place for prayer, whether it's a cozy corner in your home, a church, or a natural spot in the outdoors. Having a dedicated space helps to create a sense of sacredness and peace. Utilize Prayer Aids: Incorporate prayer aids like a journal, rosary beads, or spiritual books. These tools can enhance your prayer experience and keep you focused, especially when distractions threaten to pull you away. Seek Accountability: Share your resolution with a trusted friend or family member who can encourage you on your journey and hold you accountable. Having someone to share your progress and struggles with can be a source of motivation. Through the Storm Today, as I reflect on that pivotal year and the subsequent ones, I am filled with a profound sense of joy. The pain that once held me captive has transformed into a wellspring of strength, compassion, and a deepened relationship with God. The scars remain, but they are now a testament to the grace that brought me through the storm. As we stand on the threshold of a new year, I encourage you to embrace the power of prayer in your life. It's a beacon of hope, a source of comfort, and a lifeline during the darkest of times. Whatever your resolutions may be, may they be steeped in prayer and nourished by faith, knowing that God's grace will guide you every step of the way.

Life throws hard punches at everyone, but have you ever wondered how some people are never defeated? For every expatriate working in Saudi Arabia–the annual vacation is the highlight of the year. I too was looking forward to my trip back to India, which always took place around Christmas. There were just a few weeks left for the trip when I received an email from my family. Nancy, a close friend of ours, had called them to say that Jesus was asking for special prayers for my vacation. Of course, I added it to my daily prayer list. Nothing eventful happened during most of my stay. The weeks at home went by quickly. Christmas came and was celebrated with the usual gusto. After a month and a half of fun-filled days, my vacation days were almost over. Nothing extraordinary occurred, and the message was slowly forgotten. A Hard Punch Two days before my return trip, I decided to start packing my bags. The first item on the list was my passport, and I could not locate it anywhere! Then came a numbing realization: I had taken it to the travel agent that morning to confirm my flight, and it was still in the pocket of the jeans I had worn. However, I had earlier thrown these jeans in the laundry basket without checking the pockets! I ran to the washing machine and opened the lid. The jeans were whirling around. I pulled them out as fast as I could and pushed my hand into the front pocket. A feeling of dread spread over me as I pulled out the wet passport.  The official seals on most of the inside pages were damaged. Some of the travel stamps were displaced and, most distressingly, the ink on the Saudi entry visa was smudged too. I had no idea what to do. The only other option was to apply for a new passport and try to get a new entry visa upon arrival in the capital city. However, I didn’t have enough time left for this. My job was on the line. My Battalion to the Rescue I laid the passport open on my bed and turned on the ceiling fan, hoping to dry it out. I told the rest of my family what had happened. As usual, we joined together in prayer, entrusted the situation to Jesus, and asked Him for guidance. I also called Nancy to tell her about the mishap. She started praying for us too; there was nothing more that we could do. Later that night, Nancy called me to say that Jesus had told her His angel would see me through to Riyadh! Two days later, finding strength in prayer, I said goodbye to my family, checked in my luggage, and boarded my first flight.  At the Mumbai airport where I changed flights, I joined the line for the immigration clearance at the international terminal. Feeling a bit anxious, I waited with my passport open. Thankfully, the officer barely glanced down before absent-mindedly stamping the page and sending me off! Filled with divine grace, I felt at peace. After the flight landed in Saudi Arabia, I continued to pray as I collected my baggage and joined one of the long lines at the immigration checkpoint. The line moved slowly as the officer carefully examined each passport before stamping it with an entry visa. Finally, it was my turn. With my passport opened to the proper page, I walked toward him. At that very moment, another officer walked up and started a conversation with him. As he was immersed in the discussion, the immigration officer stamped my passport with the entry visa, barely even glancing down at the pages.  I was back in Riyadh, thanks to my guardian angel, who had “led me through the fire” at just the right moment.  Guardian—Now, Then, and Always Undoubtedly, the trip boosted my relationship with my guardian angel. However, Jesus underlined yet another lesson for me: I am being led by a living God who foresees every puddle in my path.  Walking hand in hand with Him, listening to His directions and obeying them, I can handle any obstacle. “When you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it”’ (Isaiah 30:21). If Nancy had not been listening to God’s voice, and if we had not been praying as instructed, my life might have swerved off track. Every Christmas since then, every trip back to my home country serves as a fond reminder of God’s leading providence and protective embrace. 

As a little girl, I wanted to become a Superhero but eventually I accepted that it was a child’s silly dream, until…  When I was a kid, I woke up early on Saturday mornings to watch Super-friends, a cartoon about a group of superheroes who saved the world. I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up. I would imagine getting a signal that someone needed help and quickly flying to their aid. All the superheroes I saw on TV remained incognito. To the world, they seemed like regular folks with boring lives. However, in times of trouble, they quickly mobilized and worked together to save humanity from the bad guys.  Once I grew up, I recognized that the superheroes in cartoons were imaginary characters. I gave up on my silly notions...until, one day, when I met a true superhero who opened my eyes. I would occasionally drop in to pray at the perpetual adoration chapel in a local church. Since someone has to be present at all times during Eucharistic adoration, volunteers sign up for short intervals. On many of my visits, I noticed an older man in a wheelchair who sat and prayed for hours at the chapel. He looked to be about 90 years old. Every so often, he would pull out different items from a bag—a Bible, a rosary, or a piece of paper that I assume was a prayer list. I wondered what kind of job he did when he was younger and physically healthy. Whatever he did before was probably not as significant as what he was doing now. I realized that this gentleman in a wheelchair was doing something far more important than most of us who were busy running around.  Incognito superheroes were hiding in plain sight! This meant I, too, could be a superhero...of prayer.  Responding to SOS  I decided to join the church prayer chain, a group of people who have committed to intercede for others privately. Many of these prayer warriors are elderly. Some are people with disabilities. Some are in seasons of life where they are homebound for various reasons. We get email notifications of names of people who have requested prayers. Just like the superheroes in the cartoons I watched long ago, we get a signal when someone needs help.  The prayer requests come in at all times of the day: Mr. X fell off a ladder and is being taken to the hospital. Mrs. Y has been diagnosed with cancer. A grandchild has been involved in a car crash. A man’s brother has been kidnapped in Nigeria. A family has lost their home in a tornado. The needs are many.  We take our responsibility as intercessors seriously. We stop whatever we are doing and pray. We are an army of prayer warriors. We are fighting invisible forces of darkness. Thus, we put on the full armor of God and fight with spiritual weapons. We pray on behalf of others who are in need. With perseverance and dedication, we continually submit our petitions to God.  The Hero Effect Does prayer make a difference? Every so often, we get feedback from the people who have requested prayer. The kidnapped man in Nigeria was released within a week. Many experience miraculous healing. Most of all, people are strengthened and comforted during times of suffering. Jesus prayed, and He revolutionized the world! Prayer was part of His ministry of healing, deliverance, and providing for those in need. Jesus was in constant communication with the Father. He taught His disciples to pray as well.  Prayer allows us to understand God’s perspective and align our will to His Divine nature. And when we intercede for others, we become partners with Christ in His ministry of love. When we share our concerns with the omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent God, there is a shift in the atmosphere. Our faithful prayer, united with God’s will, can move mountains. “We beg you, Lord, to help and defend us. Deliver the oppressed. Pity the insignificant. Raise the fallen. Show yourself to the needy. Heal the sick. Bring back those of your people who have gone astray. Feed the hungry. Lift up the weak. Take off the prisoners’ chains. May every nation come to know that you alone are God, that Jesus is your Child, that we are your people, the sheep that you pasture. Amen.” (Saint Clement)

She was diagnosed with chronic OCD, and put on meds for a lifetime. Then, something unexpected happened. In the 1990s, I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The doctor prescribed me medication and told me I would have to take them for the rest of my life. Some people think that mental health issues happen because you lack faith, but there was nothing wrong with my faith. I had always deeply loved God and relied on Him in all things, but I also felt an abiding disabling guilt. I had not been able to shake off the belief that everything that was wrong with the world was my fault. I had a Law degree, but my heart had never been there. I had taken up law to impress my mother, who thought my choice of teaching as a profession wasn’t good enough. But I had married and given birth to my first child just before I finished it, then gone on to have seven beautiful children, so I had spent more time learning to be a mother than working in law. When we moved to Australia, the law was different, so, I went back to university to finally study my first love, Teaching. But even when I got a job doing what I loved, I felt that I was trying to justify my existence by earning money. Somehow, I didn’t feel that looking after my family and nurturing the people entrusted to me was good enough. In fact, with my crippling guilt and feeling of inadequacy, nothing ever felt enough. Totally Unexpected Because of our family size, it wasn’t always easy to get away on a holiday, so we were excited when we heard about the Carry Home in Pemberton where payment was a donation of what you could afford. It had a beautiful country setting close to forests. We planned to go for a weekend family retreat. They also had a prayer and worship group in Perth. When I joined, I was made to feel very welcome.  There, at one of the retreats, something totally unexpected and overwhelming happened. I had just received prayer when I suddenly fell to the ground. Rolled up on the floor in a fetal position, I screamed and screamed and screamed. They carried me out onto this rickety old wooden verandah outside and continued to pray until eventually, I stopped screaming. This was totally unsought and unexpected. But I knew that it was deliverance. I just felt empty as if something had left me. After the retreat, my friends continued to check up on me and come to pray over me, asking for Mary’s intercession that the gifts of the Holy Spirit would become manifest in me. I felt so much better that after a week or two, I decided to reduce my dose of medication. Within three months, I had stopped taking the medication and felt better than I ever had. Melting Away I no longer felt the need to prove myself or pretend that I was better than I was. I didn’t feel that I had to excel in all things. I felt grateful for the gift of life, my family, my prayerful community and this tremendous connection with God. Freed of the need to justify my existence, I realized I could not justify my existence. It’s a gift–life, family, prayer, connection with God–these are all gifts, not something you are ever going to earn. You accept it and you thank God. I became a better person. I didn’t have to show off, compete, or arrogantly insist that my way was the best. I realized I didn’t have to be better than the other person because it didn’t matter. God loves me, God cares for me. Out of the grip of my disabling guilt, I have since realized that “If God didn’t want me, He would have made someone else.” My relationship with my mother had always been ambivalent. Even after becoming a mother, I was still struggling with these feelings of ambivalence. But this experience changed that for me. As God chose Mary to bring Jesus into the world, He had chosen Mary to help me on my way. My issues in the relationship with my mother, and subsequently with the Holy Mother, slowly melted away. I felt like John at the foot of the Cross when Jesus told him: “Behold your Mother.” I have come to know Mary as the perfect mother. Now, when my mind fails, the Rosary kicks in to rescue me! I never realized how much I needed her until I made her an indispensable part of my life. Now, I couldn’t imagine stepping away.

There is a poetic meditation of an early twentieth-century Greek novelist named Nikos Kazantzakis that I keep on my nightstand when Advent comes around every year.  He pictures Christ as a teenager, watching the people of Israel from a distant hilltop, not yet ready to begin his ministry but acutely, painfully sensitive to the longing and suffering of His people.  The God of Israel is there among them—but they don’t know it yet. I was reading this to my students the other day, as I do every year at the start of Advent, and one of them said to me after class: “I’ll bet that’s how Jesus feels now too.”  I asked him what he meant. He said: “You know, Jesus, sitting there in the tabernacle, and us just walking past like He isn’t even there.” Ever since, I’ve had this new image in my Advent prayers of Jesus, waiting in the Tabernacle, looking out over His people—hearing our groans, our pleas, and our cries. Waiting...   Somehow, this is the way God chooses to come to us. The birth of the Messiah is THE KEY EVENT IN ALL HUMAN HISTORY, and yet, God wanted it to take place ‘so quietly that the world went about its business as if nothing had happened.’ A few shepherds noticed, and so did the magi (and we could even mention Herod, who noticed for all the wrong reasons!). Then, apparently, the whole thing was forgotten. For a time. Somehow…there must be something in the waiting that is good for us. God chooses to wait for us. He chooses to make us wait for Him. And when you think about it in this light, the whole history of salvation becomes a history of waiting.  So, you see, there’s this simultaneous sense of urgency—that we need to answer God’s call and that we need Him to answer our call, and soon. “Answer me, Lord, when I call to you,” the psalmist says. There’s something so brazen about this verse that it’s charming.   There’s an urgency in the Psalms. But there is also this sense that we must learn to be patient and wait—wait in joyful hope—and find God’s answer in the waiting.