Unleash God’s Blessings on Your Kids

My friend and I were strolling along the streets when we heard people shouting behind us. An angry bull was charging wildly along the road in the distance, as terrified people screamed and scampered away. “Let's run!” I screamed, but my friend calmly replied: “If we start running, it will definitely chase us.” After a few moments, no one remained between us and the bull. "That's it. I think we should run!" I yelled to my friend, and we both took off. We ran with all our might, but we didn’t make much headway. Some good-hearted people were attempting to capture the bull. Gasping for breath, I waited for a moment, hoping that we were safe at last. Unfortunately, the chase continued. At some point, I remembered to pray.  Then, I just stopped running. I stood there, staring at the bull charging toward me. When it was just a few inches away, it halted. We looked into each other’s eyes. We stood there, face to face, for a few seconds. I scarcely dared to draw a breath. Then, suddenly it bolted in a different direction, leaving us shaken.  I always wonder what happened at that moment. Who could have stood between me and the bull? I had indeed felt a powerful presence protecting me from harm.  Many of us are perpetually fleeing in fear of something. We rarely face our fear and confront it with the powerful presence of God. We easily become enslaved by pacifiers like alcohol, drugs, shopping, pornography, or even over-commitment to career goals.  Plunging frantically into hedonistic pleasure or overwork to suppress our anxieties may momentarily distract us from the pain of unhappy childhoods, unpaid loans, disagreeable bosses or workmates, drunken spouses, unpleasant homes, or personal failures. But it destroys our ability to build healthy relationships. Afraid to turn to the right or to the left, we let ourselves bolt in panic. How can we heal our hurts without causing further damage and find relief? "I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth."(Psalm 121:1-2). When you are troubled by torments of any sort,  stop running aimlessly and ask for Divine assistance. Look neither to the right nor to the left, but look to the Lord above to find the best answers to your problems. 

Rome, Saint Peter’s Basilica, meeting the Pope…could life be more eventful? I discovered it can be. My conversion to the Catholic faith came about during my trip to Rome, where I was lucky to study for part of my degree. The Catholic university I attended had organized a couple of audiences with Pope Francis as part of the trip. One evening, I was sitting in the Saint Peter’s Basilica, listening to the Rosary being prayed in Latin over the loudspeaker while I waited for the service to begin. Though I didn’t understand Latin at the time, nor know what the Rosary was, I somehow recognized the prayer. It was a moment of mystical immersion that eventually led me to entrust my entire life to Jesus through the intercession of Mary. This began a journey of conversion that culminated in my Baptism into the Catholic Church a year later, and a love story that ensued shortly afterward. Discovering Moments I found myself slowly building the foundations of my relationship with Jesus, unknowingly imitating Mary in the process. I knelt at His feet in prayer as Mary might have done at Calvary, seeking to deepen my connection to Christ. I continue this practice today, studying His face, His wounds, His vulnerability, and His suffering. More importantly, I meet Him every day to console Him because I can’t bear the thought of Him being alone on the Cross. By meditating on His Passion, I find I can more deeply appreciate the significance of the Living Christ, who lives in us today.  As I devoted myself to this practice, I felt Jesus waiting for me in my daily prayers, yearning for my faithfulness, and seeking my companionship. The more I held Him up in silent prayer, the more I began to feel a deep sorrow and grief for the price Jesus paid for my life and the lives of others. I shed tears for Him. I imprisoned Him in my heart and consoled Him in prayer, mirroring Mary's tender care for her Son. The realization of the sacrificial love that led Jesus to the Cross stirred deep maternal emotions within me, compelling me to surrender everything to Him. Through the grace of Our Lady, I offered myself completely to Jesus, allowing Him to transform me as our relationship blossomed.  Offering it Up When I experienced a great loss two years ago, I continued this daily practice, though the focus of my sorrow shifted. The tears I shed were no longer for Him but for myself. I could do nothing but fall at the feet of Our Lord in my absolute distress and despair, as selfish as I felt. It was then that God showed me how redemptive suffering can be shared not just by witnessing His sacrifice in prayer, but by entering into His Passion.  Suddenly, His suffering was no longer external to me, but something so intimate that I became one with Christ on the Cross. I was no longer alone in my suffering. In turn, it was He who held me up in silent prayer, He who grieved for me and shared my sorrow. He shed tears for me and opened His heart where I retreated and became His prisoner. I was held captive in His love. Trodding the Uneasy Path Imitating Mary leads us directly to the Heart of Jesus, teaching us the essence of true repentance and the boundless mercy that flows from His love. This journey may be challenging, requiring us to share in the burdens of Christ's Cross. Yet, through our trials and sorrows, we can find solace in His comforting presence, knowing that He never abandons us. By following Mary's example, we invite her to guide us in deepening our connection with Jesus, our Lord and Savior, and sharing in His redemptive suffering. By doing so, we become living martyrs for the pain and suffering of those who have not yet met Christ, and in the same process, we ourselves are healed. As we emulate Mary's maternal love for her Son, we draw closer to the essence of His Passion and become vessels of His healing grace. Through offering our own sufferings in union with Christ, we become living witnesses of His love and compassion, bringing solace to those who have yet to encounter Him. In this sacred process, we find healing for ourselves and become instruments of God's mercy, spreading His light to those in need. Likewise, we learn to embrace the crosses in our lives with courage, knowing that they are pathways to a deeper union with Christ.  Through Mary’s intercession, we are guided toward a profound understanding of the sacrificial love that led Jesus to give His life for us. As we walk the path of discipleship, following in the footsteps of Mary, we are called to offer our own sufferings and struggles to Jesus, trusting in His transformative power to bring healing and redemption to our lives.

One cold childhood night, my father taught me how to rebuild a fire... Be it an unseasonably crisp fall evening, the fragrance of smoke pouring out of an often-used chimney, an array of fall foliage colors, or even the tone of someone's voice, these seemingly infinitesimal sensory details often spark the vivid remembrance of a moment long ago. Why do we have such memories? Do they serve as a way of avoiding previously made mistakes? Did God give us memories so that we might have roses in December? Or might it be something much more profound? Are they seeds of contemplation that we are meant to dwell on, ponder, prayerfully reflect on, and contemplate? ‘Warm’ Love When I was nine, maybe ten, my family and I arrived home on an unseasonably cold fall night. My mother immediately requested that my father rebuild the fire. This being a favorite pastime of mine, I eagerly stood by to watch. While other fire-building occurrences remain a haze of insignificant details, this one lives vividly in the depths of my mind. I even remember it verbatim.  He opened the wood stove, picked up the poker, and started clearing away ash. Curious, I remember asking: "Why do you clear away all the ash?" Immediately, my father answered: "By removing the ash, I am killing two birds with one stone. I isolate any embers while simultaneously allowing oxygen to flow more freely."  "Why is that so important?" My father stopped his work and looked at me, balancing on his toes in a crouched position. Moments passed as he considered my question. He then called me close. As I approached, he handed me the poker and almost whispered: "Let's do this together." Feel the Difference I took the metal rod, and he guided me in front of him. He wrapped his hands over mine and started to guide my movements. The ash continued to fall through the grate, and what was left behind was a small pile of embers. My Father asked me: "Do you feel much heat?” I laughed and said: "No Dad! Of course not!" My father chuckled, then responded: "I imagine not! Certainly, as they are, they are not going to heat the house, but notice what happens when I do this." He put the poker down, positioned himself closer to the stove, and began to blow hard onto the embers. They suddenly began to glow a fiery red. My father then said: "Here, you try." I emulated his actions and blew as hard as I could. Likewise, the embers turned a vibrant red for the briefest of moments. My father asked: "You see the difference, but did you also feel the difference?" Smiling, I answered: "Yea! It was warm for a second!" "Exactly," my father interjected: "We clear the ash so that oxygen can fuel the embers. Oxygen is absolutely necessary; the embers burn brighter, as you saw. We then fuel the fire with other small flammable items, starting small and then moving on to bigger items." My father then instructed me to get newspapers and small sticks from the kindling box. He meanwhile went to the side porch and collected several boards and larger logs. He then crumpled the newspaper and laid it on the small pile of embers. He then instructed me to blow on the pile as I had done before. "Keep going! Don't stop! Almost there!" my father encouraged, until quite suddenly, and just as surprisingly, the newspaper caught fire. Startled, I jumped back a little but was then calmed by the burst of warmth I also felt. At that moment, I remember smiling from ear to ear, and my father, also smiling, instructed: "Now, we can start adding slightly larger items. We'll start with these twigs and such. They'll catch fire like the paper did. Observe…" Sure enough, after a few moments, the sticks were burning. The heat was significant. My father then added small logs, and old fence boards, and waited as before. I had to back up because the heat was unbearable up close. Finally, 30-40 minutes later, the fire was literally roaring as my father put in the largest of logs. He said: "With these, the fire will burn several hours into the night. You have learned that the hardest part is getting the fire going. Once ablaze, it is easy to keep it going as long as you feed it and allow the oxygen to fan the flames. A fire without oxygen, without fuel, will be extinguished." To Remember… The desire for God is written in the human heart. The fact that humans are made in the likeness and image of God results in an ember, a desire for happiness that lies in each of us. This ember can never be extinguished, but if left uncared for, leaves its owner unhappy and without purpose. Clear away the ashes (through Baptism), and we allow God's love to fan the flame. Our deepest desire starts to be oxygenated, and we begin to feel the effects of God's love. As God's love stimulates the fire within to grow, it requires sustenance—an active daily choice to kindle the flame. The Word of God, prayer, the Sacraments, and works of charity keep the flame well nurtured. Left unaided, our flames reduce once more to a struggling ember, starving for the oxygen only God can provide.  Our free will allows us to say ‘Yes’ to God. This not only fulfills our innate individual desire for happiness but our ‘Yes’ can even ignite someone else's desire for conversion, giving validity to Saint Ignatius's words: "Go forth and set the world on fire."

It was the year 1944—the world was shaken by poverty and the travails of World War II. The war was nearing its end; Russian Army was liberating the Slovak Republic from Nazi occupation.  On the night of November 22, the Red Army had taken over the small village of Vysoká nad Uhom. Fearing the aggressiveness of violent Russian soldiers, people hid in their basements. 16-year-old Anna Kolesárová was hiding with her father and brother in the cellar of their house when a drunken soldier discovered them.  Out of fear, her father asked her to prepare food for the soldier. In an attempt to disguise her youth, she had worn long black clothes of her mother, who they had lost when Anna was ten. The soldier soon realized that Anna was only a teenager and attempted to force himself on her. The scared girl vehemently refused his advances. Aggravated by her actions, the soldier pointed a gun at her. Somehow, Anna escaped his grip and ran towards her father, shouting: “Goodbye, father!” With a rifle, he shot her in the face and chest.  This young girl, who had gone for the Holy Mass every day despite the alarming conditions prevailing in the region, succumbed to death with the final words: “Jesus, Mary, Joseph!”  The very same night, her father buried her in a makeshift coffin. A week later, Father Anton Lukac gave her a formal funeral, stating that Anna had received the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion before her death. After the church funeral, he wrote a note into the register of deaths: hostia sanctae castitatis (host of holy purity).  On her beatification on September 1, 2018, Pope Francis confirmed that the young Catholic girl had died in defensum castitatis, i.e., to preserve her virginity. With so many other Saints like Maria Goretti, she is now venerated as a virgin martyr.