Free at Last!
It is a relentless saga when trying to find the truth but a quick renewal when truth itself finds you
Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI was once asked what book he would want to have with him if ever he found himself stranded on a desert island. Along with the Bible he chose St Augustine’s Confessions. Some might have found the choice surprising but I think I agree. Having just gone through the book again for the fourth or fifth time I found myself even more engrossed in it than ever before. The first half of the book which recounts his conversion story is especially engaging.
Like The Story of a Soul by St Thérèse this book feels at once more familiar after several readings and yet somehow more filled with new lights. What St Augustine does is to instruct us in how to pursue something which is fundamental to spiritual growth, namely, the attainment of self-knowledge. He traces the thread of the working of God’s grace, as well as his own sinfulness, from his earliest memories right through to the time of his conversion and beyond. He even goes back further than his own memories can take him and writes of what he was told of his babyhood by others. The little detail about him being prone to laughter during his sleep as a baby is particularly endearing.
After this fourth or fifth reading, I have been left pondering something which I would like to share with you in this short article. It has to do with the influence of his youthful friendships. Parents cannot be vigilant enough when it comes to the question of their children’s friends. So many of us have been drawn away from whatever little virtue we had in our youth by the example and enticement of our wayward companions. Augustine was no different. Life in the fourth century sounds surprisingly similar to life in our own day.
Pears and Peers
Augustine’s famous story of the stealing of the pears illustrates the point. He probes his memory for the motivation behind the decision to rob an orchard, even though he had better pears at home and wasn’thungry. Most of the pears ended up being thrown to the hogs. He knew full well at the time that what he was doing was an act of gratuitous injustice. Did he do evil then purely for the sake of doing evil? Yet, this is not the way that our heart is generally disposed. Sin in us is normally the perversion of some good. In this case, it was done out of a kind of rambunctious camaraderie and the mocking delight of a group of friends at the thought of the outrage of the owners of the orchard.
It was friendship gone awry that was its motive. Augustine would never have done such a thing alone, but only because he was spurred on by his peers. He was desperate to impress them and to have his share in their act of mindless mischief. Friendship is one of God’s greatest gifts, but friendship warped by sin can have ruinous effects. The eloquent lament of the saint unmasks its danger, “O friendship all unfriendly! You strange seducer of the soul, who hungers for mischief from impulses of mirth and wantonness, who craves another’s loss without any desire for one’s own profit or revenge—so that, when they say, “Let’s go, let’s do it,” we are ashamed not to be shameless.” (Confessions. Book II, 9).
Captivity
There is a similar pattern in relation to the sin which would become fatal poison for Augustine’s soul and which could have led to his eternal perdition. The sin of lust also took hold of his heart as he journeyed with his friends ever further out upon what he calls the “stormy fellowship” of human life. In the company he kept during his teenage years it became the custom to want to outdo one another in lasciviousness. They would boast of their exploits and even exaggerate the real scale of their immorality to impress one another. The only thing that they were by now ashamed of was innocence and chastity. His holy mother had warned him sternly in his sixteenth year to avoid fornication and to stay away from other men’s wives. He would later write to the Lord about his arrogant dismissal of her admonitions, “These appeared to me but womanish counsels, which I would have blushed to obey. Yet they were from Thee, and I knew it not.” (Confessions.Book II, 3) What began with one or two sins of the flesh became a habit before long, and sadly for Augustine, this evil habit would later begin to feel like a necessity. What started as a boast to his friends finally enchained his will and took on a life of its own within him. The demon of lust had found its doorway into the throne room of his soul through a vain longing to impress.
The Spark of Truth
After reading Cicero at age nineteen, the saving grace of his intellectual quest to discover wisdom was sparked off. This passionate search would lead him through the study of different schools of philosophy, gnosticism, and a prolonged pondering of the problem of evil. All the while, this journey ran parallel to the sexual immorality which had engulfed his life. His mind was groping upwards for light, but his will was still mired in the mud of sin. The climactic point of this journey, when both tendencies within him would at last clash violently, came at around the age of thirty-two. It was then that the struggle which would determine his eternal fate—and whether or not he would become a light for all subsequent generations of Christians or simply disappear into darkness—broke into a raging interior inferno.
After listening to the sermons of the great Saint Ambrose and after reading the letters of Saint Paul, there could be no more doubt in his mind that in the Catholic Church alone would he find the truth he had always sought. It was clear to him now that Jesus Christ was his heart’s true desire and yet he was powerless to break the chains of lust which had shut that same heart up in a prison of vice. He was too sincere in the face of truth to think that he could ever come to life in Christ without a willingness to die to grave sin.
War and Liberation
The final battle which would decide the war for his soul followed upon a discussion with his friends about some illustrious Romans who had left everything behind to follow Christ. (Now the presence of good friends was beginning to right the wrongs of youth.) Seized with a holy desire to follow the example of the saints, and yet unable to do so because of his attachment to lust, an emotional Augustine stormed out of the house into the garden. Seeking out a place of solitude, he allowed the tears of regret and inner frustration to finally flow freely. They were to prove cleansing tears.
The moment had at last come when he was ready to let go. He consented to release his grip on sin for good. No sooner had this holy spiritual desire overcome his inordinate desire for physical pleasure than he heard a child’s voice singing repeatedly, “Take and read.” He interpreted this as a command from Almighty God placed upon the lips of babes. Rushing back to the house to take up the book of Saint Paul’s letters which he had left on the table, he told himself that he would accept whatever words his eyes first fell upon as an expression of the will of God for his life. This was what he read, “Let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” (Romans 13:13-14)
Triumph
Along with these words of Sacred Scripture, supernatural light was infused into his soul. Only moments after truly desiring to be delivered for the first time ever, deliverance was now his. The chains which had fettered his will for so long, subjecting it to the tempestuous rule of the passions, had been smashed to pieces by the grace of Christ the Liberator. His tormented soul was permitted to enter instantly into joy, peace, and the freedom of the children of God. In that momentous hour for the whole Church, the man once enslaved to lust through the unfortunate company kept as a youth had died and one of the most influential saints of all time had suddenly come to life.
Looking back years later, it was hard for the saint to believe that he could have ever allowed such paltry trifles to hold him back from the Lord and the ecstatic joys that would be given him in Christ. He had been like one clinging desperately to worthless trinkets while priceless treasure was held out to him. The Protestant scholar R.C. Sproul sums up the consensus of all Christians about the monumental importance of what happened on that day, “If there is any giant that stands out in the history of the Church as the man upon whose shoulders the whole history of theology stands, it is a man by the name of Aurelius Augustine, Saint Augustine.”
Father Sean Davidson is parish priest of St Joseph’s Parish and Eucharistic Shrine in Stockport, Greater Manchester, UK.
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We know each of us has a guardian angel. But how often do we ask for his help? The first time I realized my guardian angel was my best hope was when I was scheduled to teach three workshops at a Christian writing conference several hours away by car. I woke up with a horrible migraine and cried as I wondered how I would manage the drive. I did not want to be unprofessional and cancel at the last minute. I cried because there is an element of shame in being chronically ill—I suffer from migraine headaches that can debilitate me for nearly half the days in a month—and I did not want to admit how weak I was. So, I prayed to my angel to bring me safely there and back. I still don’t know how I made the long drive. I put on my Rosary CD, and then listened to the Gospel of John, thinking how beautiful it would be to have Jesus upon my heart if I were to die. Not that I wanted to die. My children were still young. My husband would miss me. And I was loving my writing life even more since we had converted to Catholicism. I wanted everybody to have what I had—Jesus! And boom! The revelation hit me—my guardian angel isn’t here just to protect me from bodily harm but to make sure I get to Heaven. Heaven! That’s the goal. God loves us so much He appoints an angel from the moment of our conception to guard and protect us from all dangers, and to guide us to our eternal home. This awareness, which I’ve had since I was a small child, still astounds me. As a child, I had complete trust in God’s protection. But the problem of suffering, so present in my life, was difficult to reconcile with belief in an omnipotent God. So, at age twelve I lost my faith, and ended my invocations to my guardian angel. But, without my knowledge, my angel was still guiding me. I am very thankful to my angel for protecting me from death during my twenties because had I died then, my intellect so clouded by sin, I might have rejected God’s mercy and gone to Hell. It is by the grace of God, and the patience and long-suffering of my guardian angel, that I’ve been able to hear His promptings and return to God, and when my plans derail, to pray “not my will but Thine”. I am also returning to that childhood state of complete trust and surrender. If I am anxious about anything, I ask my angel to take care of the situation. I call upon the guardian angels of my children when I’m at the brink of losing my patience. I also call upon the angels of the people to whom I want to be a faithful witness. What a comfort it is to draw upon heavenly assistance. Guardian angels carry our prayers and offerings to the throne of God; they come to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass with us, and if we are unable to attend, as it was for many during the pandemic, we can ask our angel to go in our place to praise and adore our blessed Lord. These heavenly creatures are a gift to us. Let us always remember they are watching over us and want us to reach Heaven! Cultivate a relationship with your angel. They are God’s gift to each of us. Dear angel! Ever at my side. How loving must thou be To leave thy home in Heaven to guard a guilty wretch like me. ~ Fr. Frederick William Faber (AD 1814-1863)
We know the Nazis’ wickedness cowed many into silence, but not Blessed Maria Restituta. Born Helen Kafka, in a family of Czech extraction, she grew up in Vienna. After leaving school at 15, Helen tried her hand at various jobs before settling on a nursing career with the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity. After several months, Helen asked her parents’ permission to join the order. When they refused, she ran away from home. Ultimately, her parents relented, and so the congregation accepted her. Helen took the name Restituta after an early Christian martyr, and made her final vows in 1918 at age 23. The top surgeon in the hospital where she worked was difficult. Nobody wanted to work with him…except Sister Restituta, and within a short time, she was running his operating room. Eventually, she became a world-class surgical nurse. Sister was tough and people called her “Sister Resolute”. Her vocal opposition to the Nazis proved she was also brave. After Sister Restituta hung a crucifix in every room of her hospital’s new wing, the Nazis ordered them to be taken down. She refused. The crucifixes stayed. But when the Gestapo found anti-Nazi propaganda on her, she was arrested on Ash Wednesday of 1942, and was imprisoned for more than a year. She gave her rations to other prisoners who were starving; it is said that she saved the life of a pregnant woman and her baby. On March 30, 1943 she approached the guillotine wearing a paper shirt, weighing just half her previous weight, and her last words were, “I have lived for Christ; I want to die for Christ.” Sister Restituta was the only “German” religious living in “Greater Germany” martyred during the Second World War. Fearing that Catholic Christians would promote her as a martyr, the Nazis threw her body into a mass grave. In the Basilica of St. Bartholomew on the Tiber in Rome is a chapel dedicated to 20th century martyrs. The crucifix that hung from Blessed Restituta’s belt is kept there as a relic.
Is there such a thing as Eucharistic Sensitivity? Perhaps this anecdote regarding Pope John Paul II can answer the question. During a trip to the State of Maryland, Pope John Paul II was scheduled to walk down a hallway in the archbishop’s residence. Along that hallway was the entrance to a chapel where the Blessed Sacrament was reserved. The papal organizer ensured that nothing indicated the door led to the chapel as he knew John Paul would certainly step inside to pay a visit to the Lord, thus significantly derailing the schedule. On the day of the pilgrimage, Pope John Paul walked past the door and stopped. He wagged his finger at the papal organizer, opened the door of the chapel, entered and knelt to pray. One of the priests who witnessed the event commented in amazement, “He’s never been in this place before, never set eyes on the place, and there was nothing about the door that distinguished it in any way as a chapel. It was just one more door in a corridor of doors. But he turned right back around, he opened that door, and went into the chapel, and he prayed.” Out of his intense relationship with the Eucharist, came the incredible gift of Eucharistic sensitivity. The late Holy Father teaches us a lesson regarding the desires of our heart. When our desire is great, our awareness of, and sensitivity to, that which we desire increases greatly. Let us pray that the good Lord helps us grow in our desire for him and inspires us to make time regularly to spend alone with Him in the Blessed Sacrament.
As a gentle and kind-hearted woman, Mary Zhu Wu was esteemed for her exemplary faith. She was a mother of four and lived with her husband Zhu Dianxuan, a village leader in Zhujiahe village in the Hebei Province of China towards the middle of the 1800s. When the Boxer Rebellion broke out and Christians and foreign missionaries were massacred, the tiny village took in about 3000 Catholic refugees from neighboring villages. The parish priest, Father Léon Ignace Mangin, and fellow Jesuit, Father Paul Denn, offered daily Mass and heard confessions throughout the day during that troublesome time. On July 17, about 4,500 members of the Boxers and the imperial army attacked the village. Zhu Dianxuan gathered about 1000 men to defend the village and led them in battle. They fought bravely for two days but Zhu died when the cannon they had captured backfired. All those who were able, fled the village in terror. By the third day, the soldiers gained entry into the village and killed hundreds of women and children. Around 1000 Catholics had already taken refuge in the church where the priests gave them general absolution and prepared for a final Mass. Although grieving for her husband, Mary Zhu Wu remained calm and exhorted those gathered to trust God and pray to the Blessed Virgin Mary. When the soldiers finally broke down the church door and started firing randomly, Mary Zhu-Wu rose with amazing courage. She positioned herself with outstretched arms in front of Father Mangin to shield him with her body. Soon, she was struck by a bullet and fell at the altar. The Boxers then surrounded the church and set it on fire to kill the survivors, with Fathers Mangin and Denn burning to death as the church roof finally collapsed. Until her last breath, Mary Zhu Wu had continued to strengthen the faith of fellow believers and bolstered their courage. Her words spurred them to overcome fear and embrace martyrdom. Because of her powerful leadership, only two of the Christians of Zhujiahe apostatized. In 1955, Pope Pius XII declared her Blessed, together with the two Jesuits and several other martyrs. They were all canonized by Pope John Paul II in 2000.
Sometimes it’s the little miracles that bolster our faith and prepare us for the hard moments in life. In our mid-twenties, when my wife and I were discerning a call to move from Chicago to Eureka Springs, Arkansas with members of our Catholic Charismatic community, we decided to visit Eureka to see what kind of housing was available. Two of our community members hosted us and showed us around. After a week, excited about our future in this picturesque town, we started our return trip to Chicago to make final preparations for our move to the Ozark mountains. Twists & Turns A few hours into our trip, engine trouble forced us off the road. The service station had good news—it was not a major problem, and bad news—they couldn’t get the replacement part till the next day. We had to get a room at a nearby motel. The next day, with our car in good working order, we headed out a good bit lighter—money-wise that is. The motel room and the repair work used up most of our cash. We’d barely have enough for food, and since Nancy was pregnant, skipping a meal was not an option. I had no credit cards in those days. We were sailing down the road when we were stopped by a state trooper. He flagged us down, along with five other cars, for speeding. One car after another, we pulled to the side of the road awaiting our tickets. I knew nothing about how to pay an out of state ticket nor, more importantly, how to dispute the speeding charge. Very politely, the officer said, “You can go to the courthouse if you want. Get off at the next exit, follow the signs into town, and you’ll see the courthouse.” Reminiscence The year before, Nancy and I took a delayed honeymoon to the Italian town where I was born. On the way there, we stopped at Assisi to visit our favorite Saints, Francis and Clare. In the basilica of Santa Chiara (Clare’s Italian name) we saw her actual golden yellow hair preserved in a glass case. Nancy turned to me and said, “If we ever have a girl, I want to name her Chiara.” I heartily agreed and looked forward to the day Saint Clare would have a namesake in our family. As we neared the exit, knowing we couldn’t pay the traffic ticket, Nancy and I turned to Santa Chiara. “Dear Saint Clare,” we prayed, “help us get out of paying this ticket. Please help us.” Half-jokingly I added, “Saint Clare, we’ll definitely name our baby after you… even if it’s a boy!” Immediately, the sign pointing to the town came into view. We could not believe our eyes. The officer had not told us he was sending us to St. Clair, Missouri! Not till recently did I learn it was named for a Revolutionary War general. But our naïve eyes saw the “St” followed by “Clair” and Saint Clare filled our hearts. We did not notice the difference in spelling of what we assumed was our beloved Saint’s name. This town of 4,000 in the American Bible-belt, we thought, was named for the Saint of Assisi! Overjoyed, we were convinced we had chosen well in turning to our dear Chiara. Edging Off I rushed toward the courthouse hoping to beat the other drivers so I could plead to the judge for mercy, but immediately the others pulled into the parking lot alongside us. When the courthouse clerk asked how I wanted to pay my fine, I said I didn’t think I was speeding and asked if I could speak with the judge. Though surprised, she said I could and nodded to a man seated at a desk across the room. As he took a long black robe from a nearby hat-stand, the clerk motioned us toward the courtroom where the man I had just seen was already sitting behind the bench wearing judges’ robes. He called the first “speeder.” She insisted she had not been speeding and, to my delight, the judge was understanding, even agreeing that sometimes police officers make mistakes and innocent drivers get wrongly ticketed. I was much encouraged until he said, but he is the police officer and I must take his word. Your fine is seventy-five dollars. The second defendant tried the opposite tack; all sugar and kindness, she explained the good officer must have made a mistake. Again, the judge indulged, conceding that officers are not perfect and sometimes even the radar equipment fails. But again, he turned on a dime reminding us that the officer is the duly appointed officer of the law. Her fee was eighty-five dollars. I was next, and I started with a question. “Your honor, is it possible for me to be found not guilty here today.” “Oh no,” he said. “The clerk said you wanted to speak with the judge, so I’m happy to listen. But no, I can’t find you not guilty. We would need a jury trial for that.” My only choices, it turned out, were to plead guilty and pay my fine or plead not guilty and pay my fine. There was no leaving without paying the fine. If I wanted a trial, I would have to return to St. Clair. When Hopelessly Lost “My wife and I are moving to the area in September,” I told him. “I’m willing to return for a trial.” The look on his face told me I was making progress. But suddenly Nancy rose to her feet, protruded her pregnant tummy, and called out for all to hear, “Oh honey, don’t try to reason with him. He doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t care that our car broke down and we spent all our money on a motel room and repair costs. Don’t try to reason with him, he just wants our money.” Try as I did to hush her lament, she forged on. When I turned back toward the judge convinced hope was lost, he motioned to me to approach the bench. As I neared, he asked, “You’re planning to move to this area?” “Yes, your honor. We’ll be moving to Eureka Springs in September.” He reached under his robe into his pants pocket and pulled out a business card. Handing it to me he said, “The next time you drive past St. Clair, give me a call.” I stood there, uncertain what to do. He gestured for me to go. I still did not understand. He motioned again, more forcefully. Tentatively, Nancy and I slowly left the courtroom. As we approached the counter, the clerk asked, “What did the judge say?” “He told me the next time we drive through town I should call him.” She looked annoyed. “What’s your fee?” she asked. “He didn’t give me one,” I said. She looked as befuddled as I had been. “This has never happened before,” she said. “I don’t know what to do with your ticket.” She looked at us and said, “Ok, I guess you can go.” Nancy and I entered our car in disbelief, stunned by what had happened. But we knew who to thank. When we are young and less mature in faith, God often blesses us with small signs, like this, that strengthen our faith and ready us for the challenges life inevitably brings. Nancy and I received many small signs in those early days with the Lord. They persuaded us that God cares even about the smaller things in life—not just the cancers or heart attacks, not just the foreclosure or lost job. And God uses his faithful ones, the Saints, to be channels of his grace. As we grow in the Lord and our faith matures, we may see fewer signs because those early ones have built a foundation of solid faith that enables us to “walk by faith and not by sight (or signs)” (2 Corinthians 5:7). But on that day long ago, in a town we were sure bore her name, we prayed that Santa Chiara would help us. And we have no doubt she did. Five months later our daughter was born in the Eureka Springs, Arkansas hospital. She was christened Chiara Faith.
Kim A-gi Agatha and her husband had no contact with Christianity or Catholic doctrine. They practiced Confucianism. But Agatha's older sister, a devout Catholic, came for a visit. Looking around at the trappings of their traditional faith, including a large rice chest with ancestral tablets, she asked her younger sister, “Why are you holding on to these things? They are nothing but superstition!” Her sister proclaimed that the one true ruler of the world is Jesus Christ. “Wake from your darkness,” she told her sister, “and accept the light of truth.” Her sister’s urging aroused a great longing in Agatha. Knowing it would be difficult to go against her husband and the tradition of her family, she nonetheless determined to accept Christ and to suffer willingly whatever difficulties might come her way. Agatha was not very bright and no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to memorize the morning and evening prayers. Eventually, she became known as the woman who knew nothing but "Jesus and Mary". Because of her inability to learn doctrine and prayers, Kim A-gi Agatha was not initially baptized. In September of 1836 Agatha and two other women were arrested for their Catholic faith. When interrogated Agatha remained firm and valiantly stood before her torturers saying, "I don't know anything but Jesus and Mary. I will not reject them." Her courageous witness led her to be the first to be baptized in prison during persecution. Along with other condemned Christians, Agatha was tied by arms and hair to a large cross erected atop an ox cart. On the crest of a steep hill, guards forced the oxen to run headlong down. The road was rough, with many stones. The carts stumbled, causing great agony to the courageous prisoners who hung on the crosses. Following this ordeal, at the foot of the hill, the executioners violently beheaded each of the holy martyrs. Agatha and eight other martyrs received their crown of glory at the same hour when Jesus breathed his last—three o'clock in the afternoon. Nearly one hundred years later Kim A-gi Agatha was beatified along with the other martyrs on July 5, 1925. They were canonized in their native Korea on May 6, 1984 by Pope John Paul II.
Do not mess with this face! The year 2017 marked the 100th anniversary of the apparitions of Mary to three little children in Fatima. The youngest of the three, six-year-old Jacinta, died only a few years later, but spent the remaining time of her life on earth offering sacrifices in reparation for sin. On 13th of May 2017 Pope Francis canonized Jacinta along with her brother Francisco at Fatima. Saint Jacinta had a fierce, determined spirit and a heart for sinners, especially those furthest from God's love: those closest to damnation. She had been horrified when Our Lady granted her and the other children a glimpse into hell. It was vivid and heartbreaking, terrifying and cruel. After this vision of hell, Jacinta would sit on a rock or slump on the ground exclaiming, “Oh, hell! Hell! How sorry I am for the souls who go to hell! And the people down there, burning alive, like wood in the fire!”. She would then drop to her knees and pray the prayer Our Lady had taught them: O my Jesus! Forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls to heaven, especially those in greatest need of Thy mercy. During a private apparition, Mary had told Jacinta: "most souls end up in hell because of the sins of impurity” and “if people knew what eternity is, they would surely do everything in their power to change their lives ...” Because of this, little Jacinta resolved to help keep as many souls as possible out of hell. This may be the reason why the presence of her photograph has proven to be a deterrent to demons, as one exorcist has attested. They hate being reminded of the many souls she pried from their grip. I think the firm brow in her photographs (though the expression of the day) tells demons that she means business! To me, she calls us all to step it up: in our own offerings, in showing more gratitude for the gift of receiving Christ in the Eucharist and in making better use of our lives (and time)—after all, she was able to give so much in the short time she had on earth. For this reason, I love sharing stories about this dear Saint with my little ones. One story I love in particular, related by Sister Lucia, reveals the beauty and wisdom of Saint Jacinta, who is the youngest non-martyr saint: One morning Jacinta begged Lucia to allow her to accompany her to daily Mass. “Do not come to Mass,” Lucia tried to counsel her, especially as Jacinta had become so ill, “it is too much for you. Besides, today is not Sunday.” “That does not matter. I want to go in place of the sinners who do not go even on Sundays ... Look, Lucia, do you know? Our Lord is so sad and our Lady told us that He must not be offended any more. He is already offended very much and no one pays any attention to it. They keep committing the same sins.” But Jacinta was told she was not strong enough to attend, so Lucia would drop by and visit her almost every day after she had returned from Mass. Jacinta was always so excited to see her cousin: “Lucia,” she asked, “did you receive Communion today?” “Yes, Jacinta.” “Then come very close to me for you have our Lord in your heart. I do not know how it happens but I feel our Lord in you and I understand what He says even if I do not see Him or hear Him. It is so good to be with Him.” I love the exchange Jacinta had with her cousin after she had been given the news of her impending death directly from Mary: “Lucia, our Lady told me that I am going to go to another hospital in Lisbon and that I will never see you again or my parents and that after suffering a great deal, I shall die alone. She said that I should not be afraid since She will come to take me with her to heaven.” She sought comfort from Lucia, reaching out her arms and sobbing, “I will never see you again. Pray a lot for me for I am going to die alone.” Jacinta seemed so troubled at the thought of being alone in the end. Lucia once heard her lamenting her fate while hugging a picture of Our Lady, “My dear little Mother, so I am going to die alone?” “Why do you worry about dying alone?” Lucia had asked her, “What do you care when Our Lady is going to come for you?” “It is true. I do not care. I do not know why, but sometimes I forget that she is going to come for me.” Lucia's own heart was filled with sorrow. “Take heart, Jacinta. You have only a little while to wait before you go to heaven. For me ...” She was brokenhearted knowing she would be left to live a long life on earth without her little cousin. “Poor thing. Do not cry, Lucia, I shall pray a lot in heaven for you. You are going to stay here, but it is our Lady who wants it.” “Jacinta, what are you going to do in heaven?” “I am going to love Jesus a lot, and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and pray and pray for you, for the Holy Father, my parents, brothers, sisters and for everyone who asked me and for sinners. I love to suffer for the love of our Lord and our Lady. They love those who suffer for the conversion of sinners." What an incredible little soul! At the end of her life, Jacinta endured much suffering. She underwent surgery removing two ribs, in an effort to save her after an infection had caused vast swelling. She told the doctor plainly that she would be dying soon and that the surgery would not make a difference. She accepted it though, as she was determined to offer as much suffering as possible before her death. When it came time for the procedure, she was found to be too weak for the gas anesthetic so was offered only local anesthetic, which proved ineffective. She felt everything and was in complete agony the entire time, but offered it all for sinners. When I think of her offerings, I am almost embarrassed to think of all the times I have complained about minor inconveniences, so many lost opportunities to give as she gave, to love as she loved. Yet, God is good, and I know I can offer it now and greet future burdens with a determined spirit, with joy and a renewed zeal for souls. In the end, the prophecy of Jacinta dying alone was fulfilled. As many doctors and family members thought her health was improving, they were not with her the night she died. Her body was exhumed in both 1935 and 1951 and was found to be incorrupt (one among so many in our awesome Catholic faith). She is buried at the Basilica of Our Lady of Fatima in Portugal where Pope Francis and a number of Catholics (all pilgrimages were sold out) celebrated the 100th anniversary and honored the lives of the heroic children of Fatima.
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Saying “Yes” to God is the best decision you can ever make! “Please help,” pleaded the church lady making the announcements after Mass, “we desperately need teachers for the junior high religious education program.” I pretended not to hear. We had just moved back to Arizona from Illinois, and the oldest of our five children was entering high school. Each Sunday, the same simple entreaty. God must have been working on me week after week. I knew I was adding five kids to the roster; after all, maybe I should help. My resolve faded, and I signed up. I’ve always said that I wasn’t born with a “no” gene, and organizations can see me coming a mile away. This newest yes is a point in case. “I’m a cradle Catholic; how hard could teaching kids be?” Over the next couple of years, youth ministers popped in and out. After the most recent departure, our Pastor approached me and stated that my fellow volunteer teachers had recommended me to take over as youth minister. Me? Are you willing to try? Again, that missing no-gene failed to save me. God works in mysterious ways, and within a few weeks, I was the new junior high church lady. I previously assumed that only Priests and Nuns could work for the Catholic Church. I remember thinking how awesome it would be to work in such a holy environment with like-minded co-workers in the Lord’s Vineyard. It did not take long for that fantasy to be eradicated. Shortly into my new gig, I had the distressing realization that someone who worked for the Church must be someone who had answers to tough questions and possessed theological smarts. That thought terrified me. I had no background or education in anything churchy. The reality that I was dumb as dirt when it came to faith invaded me every waking moment. Over forty years of being a Catholic and I knew squat. I was unaware of the often quoted line in which God equips those he calls. It was that very fear; however, that propelled me into action. Attending college was not an option. This meant I needed to get creative. I came across a cassette from Sister Gloria when one son was in her kindergarten class. For eight years, I never made the time to listen to it. Something compelled me to do so now. It was called “The Conversion Story of Dr. Scott Hahn.” I had no idea who Dr. Hahn was, but in a quiet moment, I pushed play. This Presbyterian minister’s journey for truth was fascinating, which brought him into the Catholic Church. I craved more. About that time, we were made aware of a Catholic family conference in California happening that summer. I had never heard of most speakers, but Dr. Hahn would be there. My husband was intrigued as well, and we brought the whole family. Speakers such as Tim Staples, Jesse Romero, Steve Ray, and so many other converts inspired us, fanning the embers of our hearts. We bought books and cassettes on many topics, including apologetics and the art of defending the faith. The kids were excited, and so were we. A passion was starting to burn in us that we simply did not have before. Year after year, we would invite other families to join us at the family conference, and they too would be set aflame. I needed to be certified as a youth minister. Once again, God provided, and I attended the St. John Bosco summer conference at Franciscan University. This was all a new adventure to me. I had never experienced God through prayer, worship, adoration, catechesis, and incredible speakers. I hungered for more with a voracity previously inexperienced. With every precious morsel I consumed, I desired more. How could I be this old and so ignorant of God and my faith? Contrary to what people imagine, expanding your knowledge and love of God isn’t boring. It was stimulating and inspiring. My relationship with God was finally being fed. The Mass came alive for us. The joy and increase in faith were evident to all I encountered. My enthusiastic passion invaded all aspects of my life, especially ministry work. God generously blessed my, yes, and the fruit was abounding. All along, God had been moving me closer to Him, laying the breadcrumbs that brought me closer step by step. Twenty-one years later, I still work for the Catholic Church but am now in Marriage Preparation. I still pursue many avenues of continuing to stoke that fire that was set ablaze so many years ago. My endless gratitude goes to those converts who, at all costs, pursued truth and were open to where God led them. They will never know how many lives God impacted by their yes, and by extension, mine. And those five little kids were married in the Church and are raising their children to know God and love their Catholic faith. My husband, too, has been a Deacon for ten years. All glory to you, oh Lord. You are so generous and good to us; you knew the best route to set my heart on fire. I cannot thank you enough. “Moreover, God can make every grace abundant for you, so that in all things, always having all you need, you may have an abundance for every good work. (2 Corinthians 9:8) Through suffering and prayer, everything you have given me has led me ever closer to you and all those whom you have placed on my path. Thank you Lord!
Sudden shifts and changes in life can be harrowing but take heart! You are not alone… Explaining the moment I became aware of my relationship with God is like asking me to remember when I started breathing; I can’t do it. I’ve always been conscious of God in my life. There is not a defining “Aha” moment that made me aware of God, but there are countless moments that remind me He is always present. Psalm 139 says it beautifully: “For You formed my inward parts, You knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:13-14). The Only Answer While God has always been a constant presence in my life, many times other things have not been as consistent. Friends, homes, health, faith and feelings, for example, can change with time and circumstances. Sometimes change feels new and exciting, but other times it is frightening and leaves me feeling weak and vulnerable. Things ebb and flow rapidly and I feel like my feet are planted on the edge of a windy, sandy beach where the tide constantly shifts my foundation and causes me to find my balance once again. How do we manage the daily changes that throw off our equilibrium? For me, there has been only one answer, and I suspect the same is true for you: Grace—God’s own life moving within us, God’s unmerited and undeserved gift which we can’t earn or buy, and which leads us through this life to eternal life. Relocation without Respite On average, I’ve moved approximately once every 5 or 6 years. Some moves were more local and temporary; others took me much farther away and for longer periods. But they were all moves and changes just the same. The first major change came when my father’s job required us to move across the country. Our family had deep roots in a state that was vastly different geographically and culturally from the new state. The excitement of something new temporarily eased my fear of the unknown. However, when we arrived at our new home, the reality that I’d left everything I ‘d known—my home, our relatives, friends, school, church and all that was familiar—engulfed me with a heavy sadness and emptiness. The relocation shifted our family dynamic. While everyone was adjusting to the changes, they became absorbed in their individual needs. We didn’t feel like the same family. Nothing felt safe or familiar. Loneliness began to settle in. Trickling Down During the weeks following our move we unpacked and sorted our belongings. While I was at school one day, my mother unpacked a crucifix that had previously hung on the wall above my bed since I was born. She unwrapped it and hung it in my new bedroom. It was a little thing, but it made a big difference. The cross was something familiar and beloved. It reminded me of how much I loved God and how I’d often talked with him in my former home. He’d been my friend since I was a little girl, but somehow, I thought I’d left Him behind. I took the crucifix from the wall, held it tightly in my hands and wept. Something began to change in me. My best friend was with me, and I could talk with Him once again. I told Him how strange this new place felt and how I longed to go back home. For hours I told Him how lonely I’d become, the fears that gripped my heart, and I asked for His help. Little by little, the tears that ran down my cheek washed away the bits of darkness that had gripped my heart. Peace, I hadn’t felt in a long time, settled in my heart. The tears gradually dried, hope entered my heart and, knowing God was with me, I was happy again. God’s presence in my room that day changed my disposition, my heart, and my outlook. I could not have done that on my own. It was God’s gift to me…His grace. The Only Constant in Life In scripture God tells us not to fear because He is always with us. One of my favorite verses helps me deal with my fear of change: “Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:8) I’ve moved and changed many times since I was that little girl, but I’ve come to realize that I am the one who moves and changes, not God. He never changes. He’s always there with me no matter where I go and what is shifting in my life. God has restored my balance after every move, every change, and every shift in the sand. He has been part of my life ever since I can remember. Sometimes I forget Him, but He never forgets me. How could He? He knows me so intimately that “even the hairs of (my) head are numbered” (Matthew 10:30-31). That too is grace. The day I took that cross off my bedroom wall and held it tightly symbolized the relationship I would have with Him for the rest of my life. I need His constant presence to lift the darkness, to give me hope, and to show me the way. He is “the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6), so I hold onto Him as tightly as I can through prayer, reading scripture, attending Mass, receiving the Sacraments, and sharing with others the graces He gives me. I need my friend to be with me always as He promised. I need all His amazing graces and I ask for them daily. I am sure I don’t deserve such gifts, but He gives them to me anyway because He is Love and wants to save a ‘wretch like me.’
Keep digging through this article to discover a new bypass for your prayer life Some years ago, my sister’s house had a major plumbing problem. There was an undetected water leak somewhere on the property which caused her water bill to increase from $70 a month to $400 a month. They tried to discover the source of the leak, with her son doing a lot of digging and excavating, but to no avail. After days of fruitless search, a friend came up with a solution. His idea: forget about trying to find the leak. Instead, go to the head of the water pipe, attach new piping, and bypass the area that they knew was problematic due to pooling water. Lay the new pipe along a new path and abandon the old pipeline altogether. So that’s what they did. Following a day of hard work and lots of digging, they accomplished that plan and, Voila! The problem was fixed, and my sister’swater bill went back to normal. As I reflected on this, my thoughts turned to unanswered prayers. Sometimes we are praying for people or for situations and those prayers don’t seem to make any difference. The pipeline to God’s ear seems “leaky.”Maybe we pray and pray and pray for someone to have a conversion, to come back to church. Or we pray for someone to find a job who has been unemployed for a while. Or we pray for healing for someone battling serious health issues. Whatever the situation is, we don’t see any progress and our prayers feel like they are wasted or useless. I remember praying for a very difficult personnel conflict in the missionary organization I work with. This was a situation that was very stressful and draining on my emotional and physical energy. Nothing I tried on a natural level seemed to resolve it, and my prayers for a solution seemed to have no effect. In my prayer one day, I cried out yet again to God in desperation and heard a still, quiet voice in my heart, “Surrender it to Me. I will take care of it.” I realized that I needed a shift in my approach, a “plumbing bypass” so to speak. My attitude up until this point was trying to solve the situation by my efforts: mediate, talk through, try various compromises, placate the parties involved. But since nothing had worked and things only got worse, I knew that I needed to let God take over. So I gave Him my assent. “Lord, I surrender it all to you. Do whatever You need to do, and I will cooperate.” Within 48 hours of that prayer, the situation was completely resolved! With speed that took my breath away, one of the parties made a decision which totally changed everything, and the stress and conflict was eliminated just like that. I was in awe and could not believe what had just happened. What did I learn? If I am praying in a certain way for something or someone and have been stuck and am seeing no breakthroughs, maybe I need to change the way I am praying. To stop and ask the Holy Spirit, “Is there another way I should be praying for this person? Is there something else I should be asking for, a specific grace they need right now?” Maybe we need to try a “plumbing bypass.” Instead of trying to find the leak or the source of the resistance, we can pray that God bypass it. God is very creative (the source of creativity, the original Creator) and if we keep cooperating with Him, He will come up with other ways to resolve issues and bring grace that we haven’t even thought of. Let God be God and give Him room to move and act. In my case, I needed to step out of the way, acknowledge in humility that what I had been doing wasn’t working, and surrender more deeply to the Lord so that He could act. But each situation is different, so ask God what He wants you to do and listen for His instructions. Follow those to the best of your ability and leave the results in His hands. And remember what Jesus said: “What is impossible with man is possible with God.” Luke 18:27
At the age of 20, Anthony lost his parents and was left with a large inheritance and the responsibility of caring for his sister. About the same time, Anthony happened to hear a reading from the Gospel of Matthew, where Jesus tells a rich young man, "If you want to be perfect, go and sell everything you have and give the money to the poor." Anthony believed he was that rich young man. Shortly after, he gave away most of his property, sold almost everything else, and kept only what he needed to care for himself and his sister. But that’s not exactly what the Lord had commanded! Not long afterward, Anthony was at Mass once again and heard the Gospel passage, “Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself” (Matthew 6:34). Again, he knew Jesus was speaking directly to him, so he gave away even the little he had saved, entrusted his sister to the care of some holy women, and entered the desert to live a life of poverty, solitude, prayer, and mortification. In that harsh desert landscape, the devil attacked him in countless ways saying “Think about all the good you could have done with that money you gave away!” Firm in prayer and mortification, Anthony fought off the devil and his manifestations. Many were attracted to his wisdom, and these he encouraged to seek self-denial and the hermetic life. No wonder after his death he became Saint Anthony the Great or Saint Anthony of the Desert, the father of Christian Monasticism. Once a brother renounced the world and gave his goods to the poor, but he kept back a little for his personal expenses. He went to see Abba Antony. When he told him this, the old man said to him, "If you want to be a monk, go into the village, buy some meat, cover your naked body with it and come here like that." The brother did so, and the dogs and birds tore at his flesh. When he came back the old man asked him whether he had followed his advice. He showed him his wounded body, and Saint Antony said, "Those who renounce the world but want to keep something for themselves are torn in this way by the demons who make war on them."
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