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Did you wake up today to lead a mediocre life?
You are called to a greater, better and higher plan.
“Truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father. Whatever you ask in My name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son; if you ask anything in My name, I will do it.” (John 14:12-14).
Yes, you have read that correctly, Jesus Christ told us we would do greater things than Him! Greater things than God Who took on human flesh and dwelt amongst us! Can we really take that in? Did Jesus mean this literally? How can we interpret that?
Greater than curing lepers, blind people, or deaf people? Even greater than raising the dead? Could it be that Jesus was telling us that we would literally do the works He did, but greater in number since He was ready to ascend to His Father? Do we really believe that when Jesus told us that ‘signs’ would ‘accompany those who believe’, He was talking to us. That He literally meant it when He said ‘in my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick and they will recover’ (Mark 16:17-18).
For the past few years I have volunteered with a local charity in my home city of Manchester, England, where different local Christian churches, of different denominations, take it in turns to host homeless asylum seekers every night of the week—giving them a bed for the night, food in the evening and breakfast in the morning before they leave. On Saturday night it was the turn of my Citycentre Catholic church. I was often blessed to be part of the sleepover team, staying over and sharing meals. Simply spending time with these beautiful men was a blessing beyond words. Many of them were Muslim.
There were many miracles over the years. One in particular stands out, in a supernatural way. The night started, as usual, when I set off with another volunteer, a good friend of mine, to collect the men. As we rang the bell and entered the building, I was met by a lady who gave me a piece of paper with a name on it. She told me it was the name of a man who had been brought in earlier by the police from the streets in a stupor from taking drugs. Although she assured me that he was okay now after sleeping it off, I wasn’t happy with that and asked to see the man myself. When we met, I looked into his eyes and saw such darkness. I felt instantly repelled, so I told him that, unfortunately, he would be unable to stay with us that night. This was difficult because I knew it meant a night on the streets for him, but it was clearly not the right thing for him to come and stay. I explained that we had been informed he had taken drugs, that there were women at the shelter, and we had the other men to think about too.
We could not babysit one man and neglect the rest. Although he insisted that he would be okay, I told him sadly that it would not be possible for him to stay with us that night because the charity had a zero tolerance policy on drugs. He started shouting and swearing that he would go anyway, but I told him that he would not be let in without us. As he stormed off into the night, a fight broke out in another part of the room with two other men. It was chaos from the word go! Consequently, I had to inform a second man that he couldn’t join us. This also didn’t go down well. I assured him of our prayers, but this was little consolation to a man who was already irate, troubled, and probably intoxicated.
As we walked off together, the other men came to shake my hand, thanking me for not allowing the two men to join us since they had both caused many problems for them each night. They were relieved and so grateful for a night’s peace. As we walked along, we encountered a police van with flashing lights in the middle of the road. A police officer shouted orders for everybody to get back, stretching out his arms to keep people away from a man who lay on the ground unconscious. Another policeman knelt beside him checking his neck for a pulse because he had stopped breathing. I quickly realized that it was the first Muslim man who had stormed off minutes earlier. Immediately, I swooped under the policeman’s arms and knelt down placing my hands on him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” yelled the policeman, but I insisted that I needed to pray for him. Immediately, I called upon the Lord. ‘You breathed life into this world at the beginning of time, breathe life into this man. Jesus, You called Your friend Lazarus from the tomb, please raise this man now’. I hesitated as I thought to myself, “Who do I think I am to advise God with earthly words? This is God I am addressing.” How inadequate my human words were. It was coming from my heart, of course. Then I began to pray using the supernatural gift of The Holy Spirit which I have been blessed with—the gift of praying in tongues (1 Corinthians 12:1-11 & 1 Corinthians 14:1-5).
Saint Paul tells us that ‘The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. And He who searches the hearts of men knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God’ (Romans 8:26-27). I have no idea how long I knelt there praying, but suddenly the policeman checking the pulse exclaimed, “I can feel a pulse!!!”. My heart sang. I felt elated and could not stop thanking Jesus. Moments later, an ambulance arrived. It was such a blessing to see the heart monitor picking up a heartbeat on the screen. Again, I thanked and praised Jesus with total awe and wonder.
I had been totally oblivious to my surroundings since I had acted purely on instinct. I believe that it was God who urged me instantly to this man’s side. As I stood up, I realized that a bigger crowd had gathered. Again I was greeted with handshakes from the asylum seekers, thanking me for being open enough to pray for him.
A few weeks later, I was volunteering again at the night shelter when another Muslim man came up to me with a massive smile on his face, eager to tell me about this man that I had prayed with. He told me that the man had been addicted to drink and drugs ever since he arrived in England three years ago. When he had bumped into him just a few days earlier, he was no longer addicted to drink and drugs so he was no longer sleeping on the streets because he had moved into his own home. I was amazed all over again and praised God. However, The Lord was not finished there. In the midst of this beautiful moment, I was able to perceive a deep pain in this man sitting before me. I was able to share the Gospel with him and we prayed together. We have a God who never stops pouring out blessings.
God, indeed, is great!
We must have faith. Jesus tells us the smallest seeds of faith are enough to move mountains (Mark 11:22-25) and ‘with God all things are possible’ (Matthew 19:26). Our Triune God, The Creator, The Redeemer, and The Sanctifier; Father, Son and Holy Spirit lives inside each baptized Christian believer. We must really believe that and live it. ‘Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever’ (Hebrews 13:8) and His words are ‘Spirit and life’ (John 6:63).
Sean Booth is a member of the Lay Missionaries of Charity and Men of St. Joseph. He is from Manchester, England, currently pursuing a degree in Divinity at the Maryvale Institute in Birmingham.
From being a healthy Uni-student to a paraplegic, I refused to be confined to a wheelchair… In the initial years of University, I slipped a disc. Doctors assured me that being young and active, physiotherapy, and exercises could make me better, but despite all effort, I was in pain every day. I had acute episodes every few months, which kept me in bed for weeks and led to repeated hospital visits. Nevertheless, I held on to hope, until I slipped a second disc. That's when I realized my life had changed. Angry at God! I was born in Poland. My mom teaches theology, so I was brought up in the Catholic faith. Even when I moved to Scotland for University and then to England, I held onto it dearly, maybe not in a do-or-die manner, but it was always there. The initial phase of moving to a new country wasn’t easy. My home had been a furnace, with my parents fighting among themselves most of the time, so I had practically run away to this alien land. Leaving my difficult childhood behind, I wanted to enjoy my youth. Now, this pain was making it difficult for me to hold down jobs and keep myself financially balanced. I was angry at God. Yet, He wasn’t willing to let me go. Trapped at home in acute pain, I resorted to the only available pastime—my mother’s collection of religious books. Slowly, the retreats I attended and the books I read led me to realize that despite my distrust, God really wanted my relationship with Him to be strengthened. But I was also not totally over the anger that He wasn’t healing me yet. Eventually, I came to believe God was angry at me and didn’t want to heal me so I thought maybe I could trick him. I started looking for a holy priest with good ‘statistics’ for healing so that I could get healed when God was busy doing other things. Needless to say, that never happened. A Twist in My Journey One similar day in a prayer group, I was in so much pain. Fearing an acute episode, I was planning to leave when one of the members there asked if there was something I would like them to pray for. I was having some trouble at work, so I said yes. As they were praying, one of the men asked if there was some physical illness that I needed praying over. They were way down on my ‘healing rating’ list, so I didn’t trust that I would receive any relief, but I said ‘Yes’ anyway. They prayed and my pain was gone. I returned home, and it was still gone. I started jumping and twisting and moving around, and I was still okay. But nobody believed me when I told them I was healed. So, I stopped telling people; instead, I went to Medjugorje to thank Our Lady. There, I had an encounter with a man who was doing Reiki and wanted to pray over me. I refused, but before leaving he gave me a goodbye hug which left me worried because I recalled his words that his touch has power. I allowed fear to take over and falsely believed this evil’s touch was stronger than God. I woke up the next morning in excruciating pain, unable to walk. After four months of relief, my pain returned so acutely that I thought I wouldn’t even be able to make it back to the UK. When I returned, I found that my discs were touching the nerves, causing even more drastic pain for months. After six or seven months, the doctors decided that they needed to do the risky procedure on my spine that they had been keeping off for a long time. The surgery damaged a nerve in my leg, and my left leg was paralyzed knee-down. A new journey began there and then, a different one. I Know You Can Do it The very first time I arrived home in a wheelchair, my parents were terrified, but I was filled with joy. I loved all the technological stuff…every single time someone pressed a button on my wheelchair, I was excited like a kid. It was over the Christmas period, when my paralysis started regressing that I realized the extent of damage to my nerves. I was admitted to a hospital in Poland for a while. I didn't know how I was going to live. I was just praying to God that I needed another healing: “I need to find you again because I know you can do it.” So, I found a healing service and was convinced that I would be healed. A Moment You Don’t Wanna Miss It was Saturday and my father had initially not wanted to go. I just told him: “You don't want to miss out when your daughter is healed.” The original schedule had a Mass, followed by the healing service with Adoration. But when we arrived, the priest said they had to change the plan as the team that was meant to lead the healing service was not there. I remember thinking I don’t need any team: “I only need Jesus.” When the Mass started, I did not hear a single word. We were sitting on the side where there was a Divine Mercy picture. I looked at Jesus like I had never seen Him before. It was a stunning image. He looked so beautiful! I never saw that picture anywhere after that. All through Mass, the Holy Spirit was enveloping my soul. I was simply saying in my head ‘Thank you’ even though I didn’t know what I was thankful for. I wasn’t able to ask for healing, and it was frustrating because I needed healing. When adoration started I asked my mom to take me to the front, as close to Jesus as possible. There, seated up front, I felt someone touching, and massaging my back. I was getting so warm and cozy that I felt like I would fall asleep. So, I decided to walk back to the bench, forgetting that I could not ‘walk.’ I just walked back and my mom ran after me with my crutches, praising God, saying: “You are walking, you are walking.” I was healed, by Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. As soon as I sat down, I heard a voice saying: “Your faith has healed you.” In my mind, I saw the image of the woman touching the cloak of Jesus when He was passing. Her story reminds me of mine. Nothing was helping until I reached this point where I started trusting Jesus. The healing came when I accepted Him and told Him: “You are all I need.” My left leg had lost all its muscles and even that grew back overnight. It was very significant because the doctors were measuring it before, and they found an astounding, unexplainable change. Shouting it Out This time around when I received the healing, I wanted to share it with everyone. I wasn't embarrassed anymore. I wanted everyone to know how amazing God is and how much He loves all of us. I'm no one special and I haven't done anything special to receive this healing. Being healed also doesn't mean that my life became super-comfortable overnight. There are still difficulties, but they are much lighter. I take them to the Eucharistic Adoration and He gives me solutions, or ideas on how I can deal with them, as well as the assurance and trust that He will deal with them.
By: Ania Graglewska
MoreEver experienced what it’s like to be in adoration? Colette’s beautiful account could be life-changing for you. I remember that as a child, I used to think that speaking to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament was either the most incredible or crazy notion. But that was long before I encountered Him. Years from that initial introduction, I now have a treasure trove of little and big experiences that hold me close to the Eucharistic Heart of Jesus, leading me ever closer, one step at a time…The journey is still on. Once a month, the parish I attended then held an all-night vigil which would start with the celebration of the Eucharist, followed by adoration throughout the night, broken up into hours. Every hour began with some prayer, a Scripture reading, and praise; I recall, during the initial months, the first stirrings of that feeling of being so close to Jesus. Those nights were so focused on the person of Jesus and there, I learnt to speak to the Blessed Sacrament, as if Jesus Himself was standing there. Later on, at a retreat for young adults, I came upon silent Eucharistic Adoration, which felt strange to me at first. There was nobody leading, and no singing. I enjoy singing in Adoration and I've always enjoyed people leading us in prayer. But this idea that I could sit and just be, that was new…At the retreat, there was a very spiritual Jesuit priest who would start adoration with: “Be still and know that I am God.” And that was the invitation. Me and You, Jesus I remember one specific incident that brought a profound realization of this stillness to me. I was at Adoration that day, my designated time had come to an end and the person who was supposed to be taking over from me hadn't arrived. While I was waiting, I had a distinct impression from the Lord: “That person is not here but you are,” so I decided to just breathe. They'd be here any minute I thought, so I focused on the presence of Jesus and was simply breathing. I realized, however, that my mind was leaving the building, getting busy with other cares, whereas my body was still there with Jesus. Everything that was going on in my mind suddenly camped. It was just a sudden moment, almost over before I realized what was happening. A sudden moment of stillness and peace. All the noises outside the chapel felt like music, and I thought: “My goodness, Lord, thank You…Is this what adoration is supposed to do? Lead me into a space where it's just me and You?” This made a deep and lasting impression on me, that the Eucharist is not something, it is Someone. In fact, it's not just someone, it is Jesus Himself. Priceless Gift I think our perception of His presence and gaze plays a big role. The thought of the eye of God fixed on us may feel very scary. But in reality, this is a gaze of compassion. I experience that full-on in adoration. There is no judgment, only compassion. I'm someone who is very quick to judge myself, but in that gaze of compassion from the Eucharist, I'm invited to be less judgmental of myself because God is less judgmental. I suppose I'm growing into this in a lifetime of continuous exposure to the exposed Eucharist. Eucharistic adoration has thus become for me a school of presence. Jesus is 100% present everywhere we go, but it's when I sit in His Eucharistic presence that I'm alerted to my own presence and His. There, His presence meets mine in a very intentional way. This school of presence has been an education in terms of how to approach others too. When I'm on duty in the hospital or the hospice and I'm meeting someone very ill, being a non-anxious presence to them is the only thing I can offer them. I learn this from His presence in Adoration. Jesus in me helps me be present to them with no agenda–simply to ‘be’ with the person, in their space. This has been a great gift to me because it frees me to almost be the Lord's presence with others and to allow the Lord to minister to them through me. There is no limit to the gift of peace that He gives. Grace happens when I stop and let His peace wash over me. I feel that in Eucharistic adoration, when I stop being so busy. I think that in my lifetime of learning so far, that's the invitation: “Stop being so busy and simply be, and let Me do the rest.”
By: Colette Furlong
MoreWhat happens to your soul when you have an unexpected encounter…? I have a fond childhood memory about Eucharistic Adoration which is very dear to my heart. I participated in the rite of exposition and benediction of the Blessed Sacrament as a child, and I was mesmerized by the Eucharistic Jesus in a majestic monstrance with incense rising up towards Him. As the priest worshipped God by swinging the censer, incense rose towards the Eucharist and the whole congregation sang together, “O Sacrament Most Holy, O Sacrament Divine, All praise and all thanksgiving, Be every moment Thine.” I longed to touch the censer myself and gently push it forward so I could cause the incense to rise up to the Lord Jesus. The priest gestured to me not to touch the censer and I turned my attention to the incense smoke that rose up along with my heart and eyes to the Lord God fully present in the Eucharist. This participation in Eucharistic Adoration as a child filled my soul with so much beauty—the smell of the incense, the entire congregation singing in unison, and the vision of the Eucharistic Lord being worshipped—my senses were thoroughly satisfied, leaving me longing for the experience again. Caught Again I admit with much sadness however that several years afterwards, as a teenager—when I had more opportunities—I gave into hesitation and stayed away from Eucharistic Adoration, depriving myself of such great beauty and source of sanctity. My reason for this seems to me very silly now. I thought I had to continuously pray for the entire one hour of Eucharistic Adoration and it seemed like a very long time. How many of us today hesitate to go to Eucharistic Adoration for similar reasons? We sometimes feel stressed, bored, lazy or even afraid about going to Eucharistic Adoration and we deprive ourselves of this great gift. I say, the trick is to just start going and soon you wouldn’t want to stop. Stronger than Ever Life threw its share of struggles and trials at me in my young adulthood; recalling where I had received such comfort, I turned to God for strength and sustenance. One specific way I turned to God is by going to Eucharistic Adoration on First Fridays. I began by sitting silently in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament for a whole hour, first, simply allowing myself to be there; and then just talking to the Lord about my life, asking for His help and telling Him that I loved Him. Have you ever thought of the possibility of simply showing up in front of the Eucharistic Jesus and doing nothing but staying in His divine presence for an hour? For me, as years went by, I found that spending time at Eucharistic Adoration has changed my life in profound ways, as I become more and more aware of my deepest identity as a beloved daughter of God. We know that our Lord Jesus is truly and fully present in the Eucharist, His body, blood, soul and divinity. The Eucharist is Jesus Himself. Spending time with the Eucharistic Jesus can cleanse you from your sins and fill you with His great love for you. Let us always be fervent, to spend one hour with our God, who continues to be with us in the Eucharist, to the end of the age. Our personal relationship with our God will develop and become stronger and stronger, the more we spend time with the Lord Jesus in Eucharistic Adoration. I assure you that it will become easier, therefore, do not give in to the initial hesitation and do not be afraid in any way to spend time with our Eucharistic Lord, who is love and mercy itself, goodness and goodness alone.
By: Pavithra Kappen
MoreQ - My many Christian friends celebrate ‘Communion’ every Sunday, and they argue that the Eucharistic presence of Christ is only spiritual. I believe Christ is present in the Eucharist, but is there any way to explain it to them? A – It is indeed an incredible claim to say that at every Mass, a small piece of bread and a small chalice of wine become the very flesh and blood of God Himself. It is not a sign or a symbol, but truly the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus. How can we make this claim? There are three reasons why we believe this. First, Jesus Christ said so Himself. In John’s Gospel, Chapter 6, Jesus says: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. Whoever eats My flesh and drinks My blood remains in Me and I in him.” Whenever Jesus says, “Amen, Amen, I say to you…”, this is a sign that what He is about to say is completely literal. Further, Jesus uses the Greek word trogon which is translated ‘to eat’—but really means ‘to chew, gnaw, or rip with one’s teeth.’ It’s a very graphic verb which can only be used literally. Also, consider the reaction of His hearers; they walked away! It says in John 6: “as a result of this [teaching], many of His disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied Him.” Does Jesus chase them down, tell them that they misunderstood Him? No, He allows them to leave—because He was serious about this teaching that the Eucharist is truly His flesh and blood! Second, we believe because the Church has always taught it from its earliest days. I once asked a priest why there was no mention of the Eucharist in the Creed which we profess every Sunday—and he replied that it was because no one debated His Real Presence, so it wasn’t necessary to officially define it! Many of the Church Fathers wrote about the Eucharist—for example, Saint Justin Martyr, writing around the year 150 AD, penned these words: “For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but we have been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.” Every Church Father is in agreement—the Eucharist is truly His flesh and blood. Finally, our faith is strengthened through the many Eucharistic miracles in the history of the Church—over 150 officially documented miracles. Perhaps the most famous occurred in Lanciano, Italy in the 800s, where a priest who doubted Christ’s presence was shocked to find that the Host became visible flesh, while the wine became visible as blood. Later scientific tests discovered that the Host was heart flesh from a human male, type AB blood (very common among Jewish men). The heart flesh had been badly beaten and bruised. The blood had congealed into five clumps, symbolizing the five wounds of Christ, and miraculously the weight of one of the clumps is equal to the weight of all five taken together! Scientists cannot explain how this flesh and blood has lasted for twelve hundred years, which is an inexplicable miracle in itself. But how can we explain how this happens? We make a distinction between accidents (what something looks like, smells like, tastes like, etc) and substance (what something actually is). When I was a young child, I was at my friend’s house, and when she left the room, I saw a cookie sitting on a plate. It looked delectable, smelled like vanilla, and so I took a bite…and it was soap! I was so disappointed, but it taught me that my senses could not always decipher what something actually is. In the Eucharist, the substance of bread and wine change into the substance of Christ’s body and blood (a process known as transubstantiation), while the accidents (the taste, smell, look) remain the same. It does indeed take faith to recognize that Jesus is truly present, since it cannot be perceived by our senses, nor is it something we can deduce with our logic and reason. But if Jesus Christ is God and He cannot lie, I am willing to believe that He is not a sign or symbol, but truly present in the Most Blessed Sacrament!
By: Father Joseph Gill
MoreWhen your path is swarming with difficulties, and you’re feeling clueless, what would you do? The summer of 2015 was unforgettable. I was at the lowest point of my life—alone, depressed, and struggling with all my strength to escape a terrible situation. I was mentally and emotionally drained, and felt that my world was going to end. But strangely, miracles unfold when we least expect them. Through a string of unusual incidents, it almost seemed as if God was whispering in my ear that He has got my back. On that particular day, I had gone to bed desperate and broken. Unable to sleep, I was once again pondering the sad state of my life as I clutched my rosary, attempting to pray. In a strange kind of vision or dream, a radiant light began emanating from the rosary on my chest, filling the room with an ethereal golden glow. As it slowly started to spread, I noticed dark, faceless, shadowy figures at the periphery of the glow. They had been closing in on me with unimaginable speed, but the golden light grew brighter and drove them farther away whenever they tried to come close to me. I felt frozen, unable to react to the strangeness of the vision. After a few seconds, the vision suddenly ended, plunging the room into pitch blackness again. Deeply disturbed and afraid to sleep, I turned on the TV. A priest was holding up a Saint Benedict medal* and explaining how it offered a divine protection. As he discussed the symbols and words inscribed on the medal, I glanced down at my rosary—a gift from my grandfather—and saw that the Cross on my rosary had the same medal embedded into it. This triggered an epiphany. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I realized that God was with me even when I thought my life was crumbling into ruin. A fog of doubt lifted from my mind, and I found solace in the knowledge that I was no longer alone. I had never realized the meaning of the Benedictine medal before, so this newfound belief brought me great comfort, strengthening my faith and hope in God. With immeasurable love and compassion, God was ever-present, ready to rescue me whenever I slipped. It was a comforting thought that embraced my being, filling me with hope and strength. Revamping My Soul This shift in perspective propelled me on a journey of self-discovery and growth. I stopped viewing spirituality as something distant and remote from my everyday life. Instead, I sought to nurture a personal connection with God through prayer, reflection, and acts of kindness, realizing that His presence is not confined to grand gestures but could be felt in the simplest moments of everyday life. A complete transformation did not happen overnight, but I began to notice subtle changes within myself. I’ve grown more patient, learned to let go of stress and worry, and embraced a newfound faith that things will unfold in accordance with God’s will if I place my trust in Him. Moreover, my perception of prayer has shifted, evolving into a meaningful conversation stemming from an understanding that, although His benevolent presence may not be visible, God listens and watches over us. Just as a potter sculpts clay into exquisite art, God can take the most mundane parts of our lives and shape them into the most beautiful forms imaginable. Belief and hope in Him will bring better things into our lives than we could ever accomplish on our own, and enable us to remain strong despite all the challenges that come our way. *Saint Benedict Medals are believed to bring divine protection and blessings to those who wear them. Some people bury them in the foundations of new buildings, while others attach them to rosaries or hang them on their home walls. However, the most common practice is to wear the Saint Benedict medal on the scapular or embed it in a Cross.
By: Annu Plachei
MoreTired of all that life is throwing at you? This super-food might be just what you need! Homer’s Odyssey, Herman Melville’s Moby Dick, Jack Kerouac’s On the Road…all have something in common—the main characters are making their way through their respective life journeys. They can serve as a reminder to us that we are also on a journey. Winner Takes it All At the high point of Prophet Elijah’s life journey, he faces down the prophets of Ba’al, the pagan god. Elijah is on the top of Mount Carmel with 400 pagan prophets and challenges them to a prophetic duel. He says: “Then you call on the name of your god and I will call on the name of the Lord; the god who answers by fire is indeed God.”(1 Kings 18:24) It’s a great confrontation, a real test. One can imagine how this duel would have been promoted on Pay-for-TV! The priests of Ba’al really get into it: they pray and dance themselves into a frenzy as if they were at a rage gathering, all the while calling upon their god to do his thing. Nothing happens. Elijah taunts them: “Cry aloud! Surely he is a god; either he is meditating, or he has wandered away, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” (1 Kings 18:27) So, they dial up their effort. They call and call, slash themselves with swords and spears until they are a bloody mess...of course, nothing happens. In contrast, Elijah calmly calls upon Yahweh just once, who brings down fire to consume the sacrifice, proving that there’s only one true God: Yahweh. With that, the crowd is astounded, and all the people fall prostrate as they exclaim: “The Lord indeed is God; the Lord indeed is God.” (1 Kings 18:39). Elijah then commands the crowd to seize the pagan prophets and have them marched down to the brook Kishon, where he slits their throats. Talk about winner-take-all! An Unexpected Twist Well, one can imagine that the pagan Queen Jezebel was not a happy camper, having 400 of her prophets humiliated and slaughtered. She has to do something to save face and maintain her imperial prerogatives. If Ba’al is discredited, she will be as well, so she sends her secret police and troops after Elijah, who is now on the run. He is fleeing for his life, and if they catch him, they will murder him. We hear that Elijah “went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.’” (1 Kings 19:4) His life, which had just come to a high point with the confrontation of the pagan prophets, has now bottomed out. He’s discouraged, saddened, and so depressed that he wants God to take his life—he wants to die. He is tired of running. The prophet’s prayer for death is not heard. His mission has not yet been completed. Then an angel of the Lord, a messenger from God, comes to him: “Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him: ‘Get up and eat.’ He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said: ‘Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.’” (1 Kings 19: 5-7) The angel directs him to Mount Horeb, which is another name for Mount Sinai, the holy mountain. Sustained by the mysterious food and drink, Elijah is able to walk for forty days, a very significant number as it signifies completeness in the Biblical context. He then receives a revelation, just as his ancestor Moses did. So, we have a story that begins with desperation and ends with the prophet once again actively engaged in the affairs of God. Modern-day Jezebels We may not be pursued by the agents of Jezebel, but we do have to contend with evil influences in our daily lives, so we can easily identify with the prophet Elijah. Many of us, especially those who have lived a while, reach this point where life is really difficult. We don’t have the energy that we once had when we were younger, and the enthusiasm for life has waned. Sometimes, it’s all we can do to get through the day, and that is before we had to contend with the pandemics, racial discord, threats to our democracy, and environmental degradation. Life has really beaten us up. There are only so many psychological blows that we can handle. On top of that, our religious practice has become way too familiar, even mechanical. Sometimes, it seems that we’ve lost our sense of direction or purpose. A lot of us have become like Elijah the prophet. When we hit bottom like this, what do we need? The same thing Elijah did—sustenance for the journey and a renewed sense of direction and purpose. We find our sustenance in Jesus, who said: “I am the living bread … Whoever eats of this bread will live forever.” (John 6:51). Notice two things: Jesus, the living bread, is both the means and the end. Not only is He our sustenance for the journey, but He is also the destination. The Food that We Become When we celebrate the Holy Mass, we offer ourselves as a gift to God, symbolized by bread and wine. In return, we receive the self-gifting Real Presence of Christ himself. As we consume the Eucharist, we don’t make bread and wine become alive, rather, that consecrated, Heavenly bread makes us become alive because it assimilates us to it! When we receive His body and blood, we are receiving His soul and divinity. When that happens, we are drawn into His Being, into His divine Life. We now have the means to see as Jesus sees and to live a life similar to His— to value all we do as serving the Father. The Eucharist is also the end of our journey. We have a taste of Heaven on Earth because we enter into the mystery of God. Through the Eucharist, we experience Heaven in space and time. We experience oneness with God, each other, and all of Creation. We experience a fullness of self, which is what our heart desires now and forever! If you want to have sustenance and courage for the journey, make the Eucharist, the living bread, the very center of your life. If you want the joy and satisfaction of a life fully imbued with God, receive Jesus’ gift of living bread.
By: Deacon Jim McFadden
MoreQ – I am afraid of death. Although I believe in Jesus and hope in Heaven, I am still filled with anxiety at the unknown. How can I overcome this fear of death? A – Imagine that you were born into a dungeon and unable to see the world outside. A door separates you from the world outside—the sunlight, the fresh air, the merriment…but you have no concept of these brighter, beautiful things, for your world is only this dark, musty space filled with decay. Every now and then, a person leaves through the door, to never return. You miss them, for they were your friends and you had known them your whole life! Now, imagine for a moment that someone from the outside comes in. He tells you of all the good things that you can experience outside of this dungeon. He knows of these things, for He has been there Himself. And because He loves you, you can trust Him. He promises you that He will walk through the door with you. Would you take His hand? Would you stand up and walk with Him through the door? It would be frightening, for you do not know what is on the outside, but you can have the courage that He does. If you know Him and love Him, then you will take His hand and walk through the door into the sunlight, into the grand world outside. It is frightening, but there is trust and hope. Every human culture has had to wrestle with the fear of the unknown when we walk through that dark door of death. On our own, we have no idea what lies beyond the veil, but we do know Someone who has come from the other side to tell us about what eternity is like. And what has He revealed? He has said that those who are saved “are before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple, and He who sits on the throne will shelter them with His presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and He will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:15-17) We are confident that eternal life is perfect love, abundant life, perfect joy. In fact, it is so good that “no eye has seen, no ear has heard, nor has the mind of man ever conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9) But do we have any certainty that we will be saved? Isn’t there a chance that we won’t make it to that Heavenly paradise? Yes, it is true that it isn’t guaranteed. Yet, we are filled with hope because “God desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of truth.” (1 Timothy 2:3-4) He desires your salvation more than you desire it yourself! So, He will do everything in His power to bring us to Heaven. He has already extended the invitation to you, written and signed in the Blood of His Son. It is our faith, lived out in our lives, which accepts such an invitation. It is true we do not have certainty, but we do have hope, and “hope does not disappoint” (Romans 5:5). We are called to walk in humility and trust, knowing the power of the Savior, Who “came to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15). Practically speaking, we can overcome the fear of death in a few ways. - First, focus on God’s promises of Heaven. He has said many other things in the Scriptures that fill us with an excited expectation of receiving the beautiful eternity He has prepared. We should burn with a desire for Heaven, which will lessen the fear of leaving this fallen, broken world behind. - Second, focus on God’s goodness and His love for you. He will never abandon you, even when passing into the unknown. - Finally, consider the ways that He has been present to you when you have had to enter into new and unknown lands–going off to college, getting married, buying a house. It can be frightening to do something for the first time because there is a fear of the unknown. But if God has been present in these new experiences, even more so will He take your hand as you walk through the door of death into the life that you have long desired!
By: Father Joseph Gill
MoreI approached Him for success in my studies, but He didn’t stop there… During my high school years, I experienced a remarkable journey of faith and academic growth. As a devout Catholic, I firmly believed that God's presence was constantly with me, especially when it came to my studies. I remember one particular semester, I was facing a daunting load of exams and assignments. The subjects seemed to pile up, and I felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information I needed to grasp. Doubt started to creep into my mind, making me question my abilities. In those moments of uncertainty, I turned to prayer as my source of solace and guidance. Each evening, I would retreat to my room, light a candle, and kneel before my crucifix. I poured my heart out to God, expressing my fears and doubts while asking for strength, wisdom, and clarity in my studies. An Invisible Guide As the weeks went by, I noticed something extraordinary happening. Whenever I encountered a challenging topic or struggled with a difficult concept, I would find unexpected clarity. It was as if a light was being shone upon my path, illuminating the way forward. I would stumble upon helpful resources or passages in books that perfectly explain complex ideas, or receive unexpected support from classmates and teachers. I started to realize that these were not mere coincidences but rather, the signs of God's presence and help in my academic journey. It was as if He was guiding me, gently nudging me towards the right resources, the right people, and the right mindset. As I continued to trust in God's guidance, my confidence grew, and my grades began to improve. I noticed a marked difference in my ability to absorb information and comprehend complex concepts. I was no longer studying alone; I had an unseen companion by my side, guiding me through every challenge and encouraging me to persevere. But it wasn't just about the grades. Through this experience, I learned valuable lessons about faith and trust. I learned that God's help was not limited to spiritual matters but extended to every aspect of our lives, including our studies. I learned that when we turn to God with sincere hearts, He not only hears our prayers but also provides the support we need. Keeping Connected This journey taught me the importance of maintaining a strong connection with God, seeking His guidance, and trusting in His plan. It reminds me that true success is not measured solely by academic achievements but also by the growth of character, resilience, and faith. Looking back, I am grateful for the challenges I faced during that semester, as they deepened my relationship with God and strengthened my conviction in His unfailing assistance. Today, as I continue my academic pursuits, I carry the lessons learned during that time, knowing that God's divine guidance will always be there to lead me on the path to knowledge and fulfillment. In a world where academic pressures can often consume us, it is essential to remember that we are not alone in our journey. As Catholics, we have the privilege of seeking God's guidance and finding solace in His presence all the time. Through this personal story, I hope to inspire others to trust in God's unwavering support, not only in their studies but in every aspect of their lives. May we all find comfort in knowing that God is our ultimate teacher, guiding us toward wisdom, understanding, and unshakeable faith.
By: Delon Rojes
MoreMy husband was given a death sentence; I did not want to live on without him, but his firm convictions surprised me. Five years ago, my world came crashing down when my husband was diagnosed with a terminal disease. The life and the future I envisioned were forever changed in an instant. It was terrifying and confusing; the most hopeless and helpless I’ve ever felt. It was as though I had been plunged into an abyss of constant fear and despair. I had only my faith to cling onto as I faced the darkest days I’ve ever known. Days of caring for my dying husband and days of preparing to face a life completely different than what I had planned. Chris and I had been together since we were teenagers. We were best friends and nearly inseparable. We had been married for over twenty years and were happily raising our four children in what seemed like an idyllic life. Now he was given a death sentence, and I didn’t know how I could live without him. In truth, part of me didn’t want to. One day, in a moment of brokenness, I confided in him that I thought I might die of a broken heart if I had to live without him. His reaction was not as desperate. He sternly but empathetically told me that I had to keep living until God called me home; that I couldn’t wish or waste my life away because his was coming to an end. He confidently assured me that he would be watching over me and our children from the other side of the veil. The Other Side of Grief Chris had an unshakeable faith in God’s love and mercy. Convinced that we wouldn’t be separated forever, he would often recite the phrase: “It’s just for a little while.” This was our constant reminder that no heartache lasts forever—and these words gave me boundless hope. Hope that God will guide us through this, and hope that I will be reunited with Chris in the next life. During these dark days, we clung to Our Lady in the Rosary—a devotion we were already familiar with. The Sorrowful Mysteries were recited more often than not because contemplating the suffering and death of Our Lord brought us closer to Him in our own suffering. The Divine Mercy Chaplet was a new devotion that we added to our daily routine. Like the Rosary, this was a humbling reminder of what Jesus willingly endured for our salvation, and somehow it made the cross we had been given seem less heavy. We began to more clearly see the beauty in suffering and sacrifice. I would mentally repeat the small prayer: “Oh, Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place all my trust in You” every hour of the day. It would bring a wave of calm over me whenever I felt a rush of uncertainty or fear. During this time, our prayer life deepened tremendously and gave us hope that Our Lord would be merciful to Chris and our family as we endured this painful journey. Today, it gives me hope that Chris is at peace, watching over and interceding for us from the other side—just as he promised. In these uncertain days of my new life, it’s hope that keeps me going and gives me strength. It has given me immeasurable gratitude for God’s endless love and tender mercy. Hope is a tremendous gift; an inextinguishable interior glow to focus on when we feel broken. Hope calms, hope strengthens, and hope heals. Hope takes courage to hold onto. As Saint John Paul II said: “I plead with you! Never, ever give up on hope. Never doubt, never tire and never become discouraged. Be not afraid.”
By: Mary Therese Emmons
MoreIf you feel you’ve lost all value and purpose in life, this is for you. In my 40 years of being a priest, the funerals for people who committed suicide have been the toughest of all. And this is not just a general statement, for I recently also lost, in my own family, a young man just 18 years of age to suicide, because of unfortunate events in his life. With suicide rates increasing these days, the measures put in place include medication, psychological remedies, and even family systems therapy. However, out of the many things that are often talked about, one that is not spoken enough about is a spiritual remedy. One of the core psychological and philosophical issues behind depression, even suicide, might be a lack of a spiritual meaning and purpose for life—the belief that our lives have hope and value. A Father’s Love The love of God our Father, the anchor for our life, moves us out of those dark places of loneliness. I’d even argue that of all the gifts that Jesus Christ gave us (and gosh, there are so many), the best and most valuable is that Jesus made His Father, our Father. Jesus revealed God as a loving parent who deeply loves and cares for His children. This knowledge affirms us in three special ways: 1. Knowledge of who You are You’re not your job, your social security number, your driver’s license number, or 'just' a rejected lover. You are a child of God—made in the image and likeness of God. You are truly His handiwork. That is our identity, it's who we are in God. 2. God gives us Purpose In God, we realize why we're here—there's a plan, purpose, and structure to the life that God has given us. God made us for a purpose in this world—to know, love, and serve Him. 3. You have a Destiny We are destined not to be in this world but to be with our Father forever and receive His inexhaustible love. Knowing the Father as the author of love invites us to receive, respect, and give the life that God wants us to have. It inspires us to grow in the sense of who we are—our goodness, uniqueness, and beauty. The Father’s Love is an anchoring love: “This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” (1 John 4:10) God’s love does not consider the fact that we're perfect every single day or that we never get depressed or discouraged. The fact that God has loved us and sent His Son as an offering for our sins is an encouragement that can help us counter the darkness of depression. At His core, God is not a condemning judge but a loving parent. This knowledge—that God has loved us and cherishes us no matter what anyone around us does—anchors us. This is indeed the greatest human need we have. We're all a little lonely; we're all searching and seeking something that this world cannot give. Sit still in the loving gaze of our God every day and just allow God to love you. Imagine that God is embracing you, nurturing you, and pushing out your fear, anxiety, and worry. Let the love of God the Father flow through every cell, muscle, and tissue. Let it drive out the darkness and fear in your life. The world is never going to be a perfect place, so we need to invite God in to fill us with His hope. If you're struggling today, reach out to a friend and let your friend be the hands and eyes of God, embracing and loving you. There have been several times in my 72 years where I have reached out to friends who held me, nurtured me, and taught me. Sit contentedly in God’s presence as a child on his mother's lap until your body learns the truth that you are a precious, beautiful child of God, that your life has value, purpose, meaning, and direction. Let God flow through your life.
By: Father Robert J. Miller
MoreChristmas comes with the reminder of getting gifts for everyone, but is it really the gift that matters? Browsing in a local Christian bookstore many years ago with my boyfriend at the time, our eyes landed on a particular picture at exactly the same moment. It was a large, colorful depiction of Jesus, entitled The Laughing Christ; with His head tossed back slightly, somewhat disheveled, dark brown hair framed crinkled eyes, twinkling with delight! It was perfectly enchanting! We found ourselves staring at the slightly crooked smile beneath the subject of the portrait's engaging gaze. Oh, so inviting! So accepting! So attractive! Glancing up from this likeness toward each other, we shared the excitement the other felt at discovering this unique presentation of the person we had each come to know and trust in the last few years. We were both raised with statues and pictures of Jesus in our respective homes, but He was always portrayed as serious, somehow detached from life as we knew it. While we believed the person represented in these images had truly lived on this earth and even prayed to Him when we needed something, our faith individually had recently become something very real...alive, even. This artist’s impression reflected who we both discovered the Lord to be in our lives—someone with whom we could share life, someone who loved us in ways we had never known before, someone who revealed Himself to us when we prayed. As a result, our understanding of God was transformed from merely an intellectual assent of His existence to a new experience of a living, communicative, and wonderful friend; our very best friend. Even as we left the store a little while later, our animated conversation about this portrayal continued. It captured each of our hearts, yet neither of us had made a move to purchase it. As soon as I got home, I knew I had to go back and buy this picture. A few days later, I did just that, then carefully wrapped it, and waited excitedly for Christmas to arrive. Gift of Honor The days passed till finally, it was Christmas Eve. With carols playing in the background, we sat on the floor near the small straggly artificial tree given to me by my mother. Handing my gift to my beloved, I waited expectantly to hear his appreciation as he spied the new wristwatch I had placed on the paw of the little stuffed dog who would cleverly deliver the timepiece. A mumbled “thanks” was all the response I got. No worries, that wasn't the gift that I knew would be perfect. But first, I was to open his gift to me. Reaching to accept it, I felt a bit puzzled. It was large, rectangular, and flat. As I began to open it, pulling the wrapping paper away from the present, I suddenly saw...my picture?! The same one I secretively purchased for him? Yes, that was it! The Laughing Christ. The picture I loved so much but instead of being thrilled, I felt disappointed. This was supposed to be his present. The one I knew was exactly what he wanted. I tried to hide my disappointment, leaning over to give him a kiss while expressing my appreciation. Then pulling out the present I had carefully wrapped and hidden behind the tree, I gave it to the object of my love. He opened it, ripping the paper quickly, revealing the contents of the package. His face looked happy...didn't it? Or was it a bit crestfallen like I had felt mine would have looked if I hadn't worked so hard to hide my disappointment from him when it had been my turn to open a gift? Oh, we both said the all right words, of course, yet somehow we sensed the gift we received from each other was not nearly as meaningful to us as we had hoped. It was the giving of that present that we both looked forward to with such anticipation. It reflected the Christ we’d both experienced and our desire was to share who we each had come to know. That was where the joy was found, not in having our own desires met, but in fulfilling the desires of the other. In time, my relationship with that young man ended. While it was painful, the joyful image of Jesus continued to hold a place of honor on my wall. Now, it is so much more than just a depiction, and so much more than just a man. It stays as a reminder of the One who would never leave me, the One with whom I would always be in a relationship, the One who would dry my tears many times through the years. But more than that, the One who is always such a source of delight in my life. After all, He was my life. Those crinkling eyes met mine. Then, that engaging smile invited me to pull the corners of my own mouth upward. And just like that, I was laughing alongside my Best Friend.
By: Karen Eberts
MoreI didn’t know their language or their emotional pain...How could I connect with them? Thursday, February 22, 2024, is a day I will never forget. At 05:15 AM, along with several of my colleagues in Catholic Social Services, I awaited the arrival of 333 refugees from Ethiopia, Eritrea, Somalia, and Uganda. Egyptian Airlines was entrusted with flying them from Entebbe, Uganda, to Cairo, Egypt, and finally to their Canadian entry point, Edmonton. Suddenly, the doors at the other end opened and the passengers started walking toward us. Not knowing how to speak their languages, I felt extremely vulnerable. How would I, as one so privileged to be born in Canada, one who has never spent a moment in a refugee camp, be able to greet these exhausted, hopeful, apprehensive sisters and brothers in a way that would say: “Welcome to your new home”...? I asked one of my colleagues who speaks five languages: “What can I say?” “Just say, Salam, that will be enough”. Suddenly, the doors at the other end opened and the passengers started walking toward us. Not knowing how to speak their languages, I felt extremely vulnerable. How would I, as one so privileged to be born in Canada, one who has never spent a moment in a refugee camp, be able to greet these exhausted, hopeful, apprehensive sisters and brothers in a way that would say: “Welcome to your new home”...? I asked one of my colleagues who speaks five languages: “What can I say?” “Just say, Salam, that will be enough”. Extending a Hand After everyone was lined up in the Customs Hall, our team went downstairs and began passing out bottles of water, granola bars, and oranges. I noticed one older Muslim woman, perhaps 50-55 years of age, bent over her trolley, trying to push it. I went and greeted her with ‘Salam’ and smiled. With gestures, I tried to ask if I could help push her trolley. She shook her head: “No.” Six hours later, outside the Customs Hall, people were sitting in different cordoned-off areas; only 85 would be remaining in Edmonton and were waiting for family or friends to meet them and take them home. Some would be boarding a bus to be taken to other cities or towns, and still others would be overnighting in a hotel and would fly to their final destination the next day. For those who were being bussed to other cities in Alberta, a four to seven-hour trip awaited them. The elderly Muslim woman I had seen in the Customs Hall, I discovered, was to fly to Calgary the next day. I looked at her and smiled, and her whole face was radiant. As I approached her, she said in faltering English: “You love me.” I took her hands in mine, looked into her eyes, and said: “Yes, I love you and God/Allah loves you.” The young woman next to her, whom I discovered was her daughter, said to me: “Thank you. Now my Mom is happy.” With tears in my eyes, a heart full of joy, and very tired feet, I left the Edmonton International Airport, profoundly grateful for one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. I may never encounter her again, but I know with absolute certainty that our God who is the embodiment of tender, compassionate love was made visible and tangible to me through my beautiful Muslim sister. In 2023, there were 36.4 million refugees seeking a new homeland and 110 million people displaced because of war, drought, climate change, and more. Day in and day out, we hear comments like: “Build walls,” “Close the borders,” and “They are stealing our jobs.” I hope that my story will, in some small way, help people understand the scene of Matthew 25 better. The righteous asked Jesus: “When Lord, God, did we do all these for you?” and He replied: “Whenever you did it to one of these little ones of Mine, you did it to Me.”
By: Sr. Mary Clare Stack
MoreCrosses came in one after the other, but the Lord’s mercy never failed this family! I gave birth to my firstborn ten years ago, and we were overjoyed! I still remember the day; we were so glad to know that it was a baby girl. I couldn’t thank the Lord enough for His blessings upon my family. Like every mother, I dreamt of buying cute frocks, clips, and booties for my little doll. We named her ‘Athalie,’ meaning ‘God is exalted.’ We were praising God for His beautiful gift. Little did we know that our joy would soon be turned into a deep heartache or that our prayer of gratitude would soon be replaced with petitions for His mercy for our precious baby. At four months old, she became severely sick. With multiple seizure attacks, she would cry for hours and couldn’t sleep or feed well. After multiple tests, she was diagnosed with brain damage; she was also suffering from a rare kind of severe childhood epilepsy named ‘West Syndrome,’ which affects one in 4,000 children. Repeated Blows The diagnosis was too shocking and heartbreaking for us. I didn’t know how I could face the storm. I wanted my heart to be numb to the emotional pain I was going through. Many questions ran through my mind. This was just the beginning of a long and painful journey that I was never prepared to take. My baby girl continued to suffer from seizures for almost two and a half years. Doctors tried multiple medicines, painful daily injections, and numerous blood tests. She would cry for hours and all I could do was to ask for God to bestow His mercy on my child. I felt helpless for not being able to comfort her in any way. Life felt like a deep and dark pit of agony and despair. Her seizures eventually subsided, but she suffered global developmental delays. As her treatment was progressing, another shocking news rattled our family. Our son Asher, who was having speech delay and behavioral issues, was diagnosed with high-functioning autism at the age of three. We were on the verge of losing hope; life felt too overwhelming for us as new parents. No one could understand or feel the pain we were going through. We felt lonely and miserable. However, this period of loneliness and the painful days of motherhood brought me closer to God; His Word provided solace to my weary soul. His promises, which I was now reading with a deeper meaning and fuller understanding, encouraged me. Spirit-led Penmanship It was during this difficult season of my life that God enabled me to write faith-filled and encouraging blogs for people going through challenges and suffering similar to mine. My articles, birthed from my daily devotions, shared the challenges of special parenthood and included my life experiences and insights. God used my words to heal many aching souls. I am truly grateful to Him for turning my life into a useful vessel for His love. I would say that the despair of our daughter’s sickness solidified our family’s faith in God. As my husband and I ventured onto the unknown path of this unique parenthood journey, all that we had to cling to were the promises of God and the faith in our hearts that God will never leave nor forsake us. What once appeared like heaps of ashes began to turn into beauty of strength as God extended His grace, peace, and joy to us during the most heart-wrenching and dark season of our life. In the loneliest moments, spending time at His feet brought us renewed hope and the courage to move ahead. Answered Prayers After years of treatment and unending prayers, Athalie’s seizures are now controlled, but she continues to have a severe form of cerebral palsy. She can’t talk, walk, see, or sit by herself and is completely dependent on me. Having recently moved from India to Canada, our family is currently receiving the best treatment. A substantial improvement in her health is making our lives more colorful. Asher is out of the spectrum, and he has caught up completely on his speech. After many schools had initially rejected him because of his inattentiveness, I home-schooled him till grade five. Though he shows a few traits of ADHD, by God’s grace, he is now enrolled in grade six in a private Christian school. He is a book lover who shows a unique interest in the solar system. He loves learning about different countries, their flags, and maps. Though life is still filled with challenges, the love of God is what makes us parent our children with love, patience, and kindness. As we continue to embrace the hope we have in Jesus and travel through this unique path of special-needs-parenting, I believe that there are times when we have answers to our prayers right away, and our faith works and produces results. In those times, God’s strength and power are revealed in what He does for us—the sure answer to our prayers. On other occasions, His strength continues to shine through us, enabling us to endure our pain with courage, letting us experience His loving mercies in our difficulties, showing us His power in our weaknesses, teaching us to develop the ability and wisdom to take the right steps ahead, empowering us to tell stories of His strength, and encouraging us to witness His light and hope amidst our challenges.
By: Elizabeth Livingston
MoreJohn Taylor was in his mid-50s when he came home one day from a game of golf and shared with his wife a strange pain he had begun to experience in his hands. He was soon diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a rare form of cancer that would slowly reduce his athletic body to mere skin and bones in a span of just 20 years. As the illness grew in strength, part of his tongue was removed; he couldn’t speak or eat, so he was fed directly through a tube. Though I had trouble understanding what he was saying, I enjoyed his company very much. He had a great sense of humor, and Anne was a beautiful cook, so I ended up spending many evenings with the family. In 2011, at the height of his illness, John, who belonged to the Church of Wales, expressed his desire to become a Catholic like his wife Anne! On Christmas Eve, a Mass was held for him in their living room. At the time of Holy Communion, I poured a little jug of the Precious Blood through his tube directly into his stomach so that he could celebrate his First Holy Communion. It was one of the most extraordinary First Holy Communions I've ever seen and one of the most beautiful Christmas Eve of my life. The memory of that day and that blessed couple still reminds me of what I am doing as a priest—bringing the Incarnation and the Precious Blood of Christ to the world. During his last days, John bled profusely every morning, so Anne had to repeatedly change his bedclothes. It was extraordinary—while John’s state reminded me of the crucified Christ, Anne was configured to the Virgin Mary who stood by and took care of Him in His passion. We buried Anne last year, more than a decade after John’s passing. Jesus said the Saints would shine like stars in the Kingdom of God; now, with two more, the night sky is brighter.
By: Father Mark Byrne
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