To Let Go and Let God

anxiety
A couple months ago Jesus delivered me from my anguish and taught me to trust Him more. I had been in a chronic state of anxiety for a good stretch of time. My burdens and trials of life were weighing me down and overwhelming me. Cross after cross had come and I was trying desperately to carry them on my own.

I did not think that I was carrying them on my own, of course. I thought I was trusting Jesus totally. However, the weight of these challenges became heavier and heavier and I felt that I was being crushed. I felt all the bodily and mental and emotional symptoms of anxiety – heart beating rapidly, nervous sensations, mind racing, agitation, and I could not fall asleep without a sleeping aid or an anxiety pill.

My dear Jesus had been calling out to me for a long time in various ways to surrender to Him more fully – to trust Him more deeply – to let Him increase His faith in me:Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous to be moved. (Psalm 55:22)

I do not know why I was holding on and not “letting go and letting God”! I didn’t want to carry these burdens. How do I let go and let God and abandon myself more fully to Him and trust Him more? I didn’t know what was holding me back and I didn’t know how to do it. I knew that I loved Him and I did trust and have faith in Him. But God wants to draw us deeper and deeper into the fullness of His life and love. He wants to increase our faith and trust in Him more and more and bring us to completion and perfection in faith. Our Heavenly Father revealed this to us in the Life of His Son, Jesus Christ who is the Way and the Truth and the Life.

Jesus showed us that it is the way of the Cross, through trials, hardships, sufferings and testing that we are made perfect in the obedience of faith. And He can empathize with us, His beloved brothers and sisters, and be our compassionate Advocate before the Father because He Himself has been tested by the God the Father just as we are.

Every high priest is taken from among men and made their representative before God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins.
He is able to deal patiently with the ignorant and erring, for he himself is beset by weakness and so, for this reason, must make sin offerings for himself as well as for the people.No one takes this honor upon himself but only when called by God, just as Aaron was.

In the same way, it was not Christ who glorified Himself in becoming high priest, but rather the one who said to Him: “You are My Son; this day I have begotten You”;

Just as He says in another place: “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.”

In the days when He was in the flesh, Jesus offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to the One who was able to save Him from death, and He was heard because of His reverence.
Son though He was, He learned obedience from what He suffered;
and when He was made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him, declared by God high priest according to the order of Melchizedek. (Hebrews 5)

The Lord was permitting me to meet trials of various kinds so that the testing of my faith would produce steadfastness and that I would be “conformed to the image of His Son,” Jesus. (Romans 8:29)

As the Apostle said, “let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (James 1:2-4) and “blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. (James 1:12)

It was Sunday morning and I got ready to go to Mass usual. Looking back I can see now that the Holy Spirit guided me that morning. At the last moment I had a sudden thought to go to another church in the area in which I lived where I had not attended Mass before. At the end of Mass I remained for a little while speaking with a lady who had been seated in the pew in front of me. All the parishioners left the church and we remained alone there talking quietly.

The priest approached us and greeted us. The lady then departed from us and I was left alone with the priest in the sanctuary. I can’t fully explain what happened next. Without my sharing anything personal with this priest whom I did not know and never met before, he seemed to be able to “read my soul” and understand my inner spiritual condition. Without my asking he proceeded to offer me some extraordinary counsel that fit perfectly with what I was wrestling with inside my soul, although he did not know from my having told him.

The gentle priest led me to the adoration chapel where no one was present except Our Lord hidden in the Tabernacle and told me to remain there in the silence and open my heart totally to the Lord, to hold nothing back, and to empty myself and let Jesus heal me and fill me with His peace.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.( 1 Peter 5:6-7)

Greatly encouraged by the gracious and mysterious words of this remarkable priest who was the Lord’s instrument to rescue me from my inner turmoil, I knelt in front of the Tabernacle where our Lord awaited me in His love and humility in His Presence in the consecrated Host . With all my strength- with all that I had within me of love and trust and faith and hope in God – I lifted my heart, mind and soul to my merciful, compassionate Jesus in an unspoken prayer arising from the depths of my soul. I implored Him to deliver me from me! I cried silently, “Help me, O Lord, to let go as I do not know how to let go. Help me to let You carry me and all my worries and fears and inadequacies.”

Out of the depths I call to you, LORD;
Lord, hear my cry!
May your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
(NAB, Psalm 130)

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Stillness and peace came over my soul during this time of deep silent prayer. Surely I knew this was the true Presence of the Lord in me and evidence of His lifting my burden and giving me His rest. Yet, as I prepared to leave the chapel, I spoke one request to the Lord out loud. I asked Him to remember how weak I am and how I will struggle with doubts and not feel confident that I am unburdened and healed. I begged Him for even more – for a confirmation – a sign of His Presence with me – in some other way that I could understand and by which I could gain more confidence in Him. Oh, how in that moment I understood the words of the father of the boy who Jesus delivered from the unclean spirit, when he said:

Lord, I believe! Help me overcome my unbelief. (Mark 7:4)
So I said to Jesus, please Lord, when I go to bed tonight, I just want to lie down and sleep in peace. Please manifest Your Presence with me in this way so I know I am healed. I want to fall asleep in Your Arms. I asked for this, dear readers, but did I believe it would happen? Did I trust that the Lord would answer this specific request? I don’t think I had such faith at that moment. Only the Lord knows.

Night came and I prepared for bed. I did not think of my earlier petition to Jesus. I had forgotten all about it. I tell you the truth, dear readers, I did not recall it at all. Settling into my covers and becoming still to begin to try to fall asleep I suddenly realized that my body was not agitated. I did not feel the usual nervous sensations or accelerated heartbeat, and all the other symptoms that the body feels with extreme anxiety. My mind was calm. No racing thoughts, no hyper-active mental state. Suddenly, I remembered my request from the afternoon. My heart lifted, my soul was filled with wondrous joy and I exclaimed “Lord, are you here with me? Is this You, sweet Jesus?”

It was Him. He had come to me in just the way I had begged Him to! My faith strengthened, my trust bounded, my joy overflowed! Then I knew for sure that tonight I would not need to take a sleeping pill or any anxiety medication. No, tonight I would sleep like a baby in the Arms of Jesus in His heavenly peace. Indeed, I fell quickly to sleep and slept soundly all night. I woke in the morning refreshed and faith-filled, and full of gratitude and love for Jesus who had shown such tenderness and mercy to me. Jesus had answered the cry that came from the depths of my heart, had increased my faith, lifted my burden of anxiety, given me new courage and encouragement, and peace.

Since that day and night which is now nearly two months ago, I am hitting the pillow and falling quickly to sleep every night with no medications! Those anxieties that I had been carrying, are now being shouldered by the Lord. I am trusting Jesus with them. Dear reader, do not think I am now perfect or complete! Oh no, new trials and crosses have already come, and more will surely come. I still am not casting them all immediately onto the Lord but I am releasing them faster than before, and they are not keeping me up at night anymore!

A Hymn:

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.

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The Beggar of Heaven

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The other night I slipped out of my house to find some solitude and peace while walking under the heavens in the crisp cold night air. The sky was like black velvet dotted with innumerable twinkling stars. It was breathtakingly beautiful and it didn’t take long for me to unite the rhythm of my heart and the steady beat of my walk to the pulse of the Holy Spirit.  I lifted my thoughts to the Lord and entered into a long unspoken prayer of the soul as I walked.  As I was making my final approach to my home in this deep and recollected state of being, suddenly the Holy Spirit brought to my mind an extraordinary encounter I had with a homeless man named “Roger” on a horridly frigid night outside of the great Westminster Cathedral of London just a few days before Christmas of 2010.

In order to relish in the glorious Christmas spirit that the city of London evokes as it decks it halls with every kind of adornment for this most blessed of seasons, my family decided to leave Israel where we were then living to take a week trip to London.  Despite it being the “Holy Land”, Israel feels very dreary at Christmas time for a Christian from abroad who is accustomed to the elaborate holiday displays in their home countries which witness to the sacred event of the birth of the Savior of mankind.  One must be in the Christian Quarter of Jerusalem or living in other pockets of Christian communities throughout the land to see the expression of Christmas joy manifested in the exterior decoration of homes and neighborhoods.   Our family was living in a Jewish town along the coast where our children’s American school was located and there was no evidence anywhere to be found that Christmas was coming – no wreathes, no Christmas trees, no outdoor lights, no Nativity displays, no carols being sung.  Some of our Jewish neighbors placed lovely Channuka lights in their windows which brightened the dark nights and shined forth hope during the drab winter season.   Although we put up our own Christmas tree inside our home, we wanted to share in the festive and sacred spirit of Christmas with others and so we left for London.

My husband and daughters and I had been Christmas shopping and sightseeing all day in the majestic and bustling city of London.  That afternoon I wanted to go to make my Confession before Christmas and to attend Holy Mass at the Westminster Cathedral of London. My family dropped me off across from the great cathedral and went back to the hotel. Considering what I may need for the offering during Mass and the taxi fare back to the hotel, my husband handed me $20 pounds.  I walked into the great plaza where the cathedral was situated. It was biting cold on this winter day in the city of London as it was late in the afternoon and the sun was low on the horizon. The wind was also sharp and piercing.  I was bundled well, with boots, a heavy overcoat, scarf, hat and gloves.  One of my earrings had been bothering me throughout the day as my ear had become infected so I had taken it off.  Not having any better place to store it, I placed it inside my rosary case (which was more like a little bag).  I had been wearing the diamond studs that my husband had given me for our wedding anniversary some years before.

I was very thirsty, and so before going into the cathedral I stopped at the corner of the great cathedral square where a fast food restaurant was located to buy a bottle of water.  Then I noticed that all along the square, under the porticos and along the walls there were homeless men and women strewn out on cardboard beds huddling under ragged blankets and dirty sleeping bags to keep warm against the cruel winter cold.  It was a most pitiful sight. My heart broke for them, as I considered their wretched plight. There were so many homeless persons out there in the bitter cold and some were begging for alms from the people who were going into the cathedral for the mass.  Their need was so much greater than a few coins or pound notes could satisfy. I felt helpless before their suffering.  I entered the great cathedral with a heavy heart.  Suspended high above the nave from the ceiling was a huge crucifix of our Lord Jesus Christ.  “Lord have mercy on all these cold and hungry homeless people who are just outside the doors of Your church,” I pleaded to Jesus with my whole heart as I gazed up in humble faith and with yearning hope on behalf of those poor suffering souls just outside the great doors.  I wondered how much help they received from the ministries of the great cathedral. I later learned that Westminster Cathedral with other loving Christians such as the nuns of the Daughters of Charity were hard at work to assist these downtrodden who live under the great shadow of Westminster Cathedral and under the ever-watchful eyes of our merciful Lord.  

http://archive.catholicherald.co.uk/article/10th-october-1986/7/in-the-shadow-of-westminster-cathedral-the-homeles )

Inside, under the outstretched arms of the Lord Jesus hanging from the Cross above me, I prepared myself to make sacramental confession by examining my conscience.  Fully aware of my own wretchedness and knowing the vital need for my soul to be cleansed, I humbly, yet confidently trusting  the love and mercy of Jesus, entered into one of the confessional boxes along the nave of the church where an English priest was waiting inside to hear the confessions of the meek and contrite souls who desire reconciliation with their Lord. Indeed, I too, am a beggar and know that I am always dependent on God’s forgiveness and mercy as I am so poor in love and need His grace to be able to do anything good at all.

We are all infected and impure with sin. When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags. Like autumn leaves, we wither and fall, and our sins sweep us away like the wind. (Isaiah 64:6)

But no, all have turned away; all have become corrupt. No one does good, not a single one! (Psalm14:3)

I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in Me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from Me you can do nothing. (John 15:5)

How fervently I desired my conscience to be purified so as to be able to receive my Lord Jesus in Holy Communion worthily at that evening’s mass.  I also wanted to “prepare the Infant King Jesus room” in my heart for His arrival on Christmas Day, just a few days hence.

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her King;

let every heart prepare Him room,

and heaven and nature sing…” 

(Christmas Carol, lyrics by Isaac Watts 1674-1748)

I opened my heart’s secrets to the priest who heard my confession “in Persona Christi” and I walked out of the confessional box with immense joy knowing that my soul had been forgiven and fully cleansed by the Great High Priest, Jesus Christ.

The penance that the English priest had given me during my confession was to say a rosary.  I determined that I would pray the rosary before I left the Cathedral that evening.  So after Mass I stayed to recite the rosary. I opened my rosary case and not recalling the diamond earring that had been put into the little bag I pulled out my rosary and began to pray with a heart full of contrition for having offended my loving and good Lord by my sins and yet, brimming with joy and gratitude for the forgiveness I knew I had just received from Him.

As I left the great cathedral it was now dark outside and a gentle snow was falling. I saw each tiny snowflake with its ice crystals in all their whiteness reflecting the light of the street lamps.  It was breathtakingly beautiful.  And then I thought of all those who love God and turn to Him constantly in trust and faith to be forgiven and purified from their daily sins, when possible in sacramental confession and at other times responding in the moment with a spontaneous cry of “Lord forgive me” as the Holy Spirit shines His light of truth on something we just said or did, or did not say or did not do – where we fell short in love and mercy in that circumstance or situation.   These blessed souls are like those snowflakes, clear as crystal and pristine white in their purity and reflect the glory of the Light of the Lord.  

As I descended the steps of the great cathedral a wretched man wrapped in a ragged blanket approached me.  Our eyes met and I loved him. I saw Jesus in him. I saw the Beggar of Heaven in the eyes of this poor, suffering man of the streets of London who lived in the shadow of the great Westminster Cathedral on a bed of cardboard under filthy rags. 

When our Lord Jesus hung dying on the cross to pay the ransom for our sins – for all the sins for all time, for all of humanity’s sins, and for my own sins and your own sins –   He cried out “I thirst.”  He thirsts for our love.  Jesus Christ was begging for our love – for my love, for your love.  Jesus Christ is the Beggar of Heaven.   

When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took His clothes and divided them into four shares, a share for each soldier. They also took His tunic, but the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top down.

So they said to one another, “Let’s not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it will be,” in order that the passage of scripture might be fulfilled (that says): “They divided My garments among them, and for My vesture they cast lots.” This is what the soldiers did.

 Standing by the cross of Jesus were His mother and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala.

When Jesus saw His mother and the disciple there whom He loved, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your Son.”

Then He said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

After this, aware that everything was now finished, in order that the scripture might be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I thirst.”

There was a vessel filled with common wine. So they put a sponge soaked in wine on a sprig of hyssop and put it up to his mouth.

 When Jesus had taken the wine, He said, “It is finished.” And bowing His head, He handed over His spirit.

(John 19:23-30)

Roger told me his whole life story as the snow fell gently on our shoulders. He had been abused as a child. As a teen-ager he fell in with a bad group of boys and he made many bad choices and got into many troubles. He paid the price that society’s justice demanded and spent time in jail. Then he determined to be good and lead a decent and honest life. For a while things were better. He found a job and got a place to live, and worked and fed himself. Then he lost his job and in time he was left with nothing. Now all he had in this world were the greasy rags on his back and the cardboard mat that he lays on at night in the frigid cold on the rock hard pavement of the great square under the looming shadow of the great Westminster Cathedral. I wept and hugged him hard. I told him I had nearly nothing  to give him to help him that night. I pulled out what was left of my 20 pound note. I had bought a bottle of water with it earlier. I hadn’t finished drinking it. He would gratefully take my half drunken bottle of water. I gave it to him, recalling Jesus’ words on the Cross, “I thirst.” I had given ten pounds for the offering and this left me with about seven pounds which I needed to pay for a cab back to the hotel. I thought quickly and told Roger. “Roger, I can take the Tube!  So let me give you 5 pounds and I can buy a one-way ticket back to my hotel on the Edgeware Road with the remaining two pounds!”  But what real help is a five pound note who a man who has nothing at all in this world, I thought to myself.  I was so sorry I had nothing more to give him. But indeed I did. I had Jesus. I would give Roger Jesus. I would give Roger to Jesus.

Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.” (Acts 3:6)

I asked Roger if I could pray for him. I asked him if he had faith. Roger told me he would like very much for me to pray for him and that he had a little faith. I assured him that faith as small as a mustard seed can move a mountain.

Jesus told them, “I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” ( Matthew 17:20)

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So grasping Roger’s hands in the middle of the great square, we bowed our heads, and I prayed for Roger with all my heart and mind and soul that Jesus would give him a Christmas miracle and that 2011 would be a new start for Roger filled with every heavenly blessing.  We kissed each other warmly on the cheeks a final farewell and “Godspeed” and in a last moment of connection, I reached into my purse and pulled out my little rosary bag and handed it to him saying. “Take this rosary, and hold onto it, and pray with it as you can… for the Lord will go with you and will never leave you. Trust in Him.”  I turned toward Victoria Station where I would catch the underground train to the Edgware Road, and left Roger standing in the shadow of the great cathedral with the snow still falling all around him.

I entered the Tube station. I went over to the ticket kiosk to buy my one way ticket. I had underestimated the cost of the ticket. I did not have enough money to buy it. I was stranded at Victoria Station with no cell phone to call my family. Because I had stayed in the cathedral to do my penance of praying the rosary, and on account of my lengthy encounter with Roger, I had been much longer than expected. My family would be worried about me. I then began to consider the very long walk in the biting cold night air between Victoria Station and the Edgware Road where my hotel was located on the other side of the city of London!  I was in trouble.  But before there was enough time for anxiety to completely overwhelm me, the Lord came swiftly to my rescue. Still standing in front of the ticket kiosk, a stranger approached me and extended his hand and said, “Here, take this.  I don’t need it anymore.” He handed me his daily Tube pass! He had bought it in the morning and used it all day and was now leaving the Tube station and would not be using it anymore that day or night. Instead of throwing it in the garbage, he must have seen me standing at the kiosk and decided that he would simply be nice and give it to a total stranger who could still use it until midnight! Incredible! The Lord is my provider! How much He loves His children and watches over us.

I hopped on the train heading to the Edgware Road and half way to my destination I had a strange feeling come over me. I suddenly remembered the diamond earring that I had placed in my little rosary case earlier in the day!  Oh my Goodness! I had given the rosary bag to Roger in the square as we parted ways completely forgetting that inside the case was not only my rosary but my expensive diamond stud earring that my husband had given to me for our wedding anniversary!  What was I to do?

The passengers all round me sensed that something was wrong with me. I could see it in their faces in their reflections in the train windows.  I tried to collect myself and breathe deeply.  The train continued to the next station and I tried to think. What should I do? How can I tell my husband how careless I was with his precious gift? How would he react? Would he be angry at me? Would he think it was a beautiful thing – a miracle – that this earring was “accidentally” gifted to Roger, the homeless man in the square, in my little rosary bag? Then I wondered what if Roger never noticed the earring in the bag? What if it would fall out? What if he threw the bag away?  Maybe he would never know that the earring was in there? Maybe he would find it and try to sell the diamond and then be arrested, as who would believe that a homeless man hadn’t stolen it? Thoughts as fast as the passing images appearing in the train window raced through my mind.

I had to turn around and go back. At least I could tell Roger what happened. I could see how the conversation would go. Perhaps he would insist on returning the earring because he knew that it was not intended for him – that the earrings were a gift from my husband to me for our anniversary and that husbands can be very sensitive about such things. Or I could show him the earring was in the bag and insist that he keep it, but that I wanted him to know it was there so it did not get lost and he could profit from it.  I even thought about ways that we could try to sell it so Roger could have the money to better his life. So many thoughts flooded my mind.

I used the “miracle” Tube pass to return to Victoria Station and ran to the square. All the homeless were now tucked into their grimy blankets and ragged bedrolls. I gathered my composure and walked slowly around the great square looking for Roger trying not to stare. I tried to be respectful as I could while looking the homeless over. I didn’t see Roger anywhere. A heavy set homeless woman was leaning against the wall in the square and I timidly approached her. I asked her, “Do you by any chance know Roger?”  I explained that I had just met him and had given him something as a gift but that by accident I had left something else sentimental inside the bag. I didn’t tell her what it was in case it could cause trouble for him. Maybe someone would try to forcefully take it from him if they knew a diamond and gold earring was in the little bag. The homeless woman replied, “Yes, I know Roger. He got helped tonight and so he gets to sleep in the shelter! He had enough money to buy one night in the shelter and so he went there to get warm, have a shower, a hot meal and sleep in a warm bed tonight!”

I thanked the woman and walked back to Victoria Station accepting the will of God. I would genuinely  be happy for Roger to have found the earring. If he is meant to have it, then God’s will be done. My husband surely would understand.  I praised Jesus that tonight Roger would sleep in security and peace with his rosary at his bedside and hope in his heart.  I trusted Jesus’ unfathomable love for Roger and that He would fully provide for him in answer to our prayers.  Even with faith a small as a mustard seed Roger can expect miracles – mountains can be moved.

I made my way back to the hotel using for the third time my “miracle ticket”, and prepared myself to share this mysterious and wonderful story with my husband.  I told him everything. He was not angry and he was gracious about the “misplaced” earring. He has a generous and caring heart too.

Later that night I organized my handbag for the morning. As I emptied the contents of my purse onto the hotel bed to my shock and utter amazement my diamond earring fell out of the handbag.  I didn’t know whether to be grateful to the Lord to have found it, or disappointed in consideration of the loss to Roger.  My husband and I had already joyfully accepted the “loss” from our hearts for sake of Roger.

It appears that it was indeed the will of the Lord that my husband’s anniversary gift remained with me. When I pulled my rosary out in the cathedral to pray my penance there, the earring must have caught in the chain and as I lifted the rosary up to pray it must have dropped back into my purse.

Nevertheless, the Lord provides for those who love and trust Him. Roger was in a shelter this night, and tomorrow, with his faith the size of a mustard seed, yet growing, the Beggar of Heaven, Our Lord Jesus Christ would provide again for Roger and would remain with him always.

The Household of Faith

Stella_Maris_Church_interioTwo short stories:

Israel
After moving to the Holy Land in the summer of 2008, I lived for a while in the traditional Arab village of my husband in the heart of the Israeli countryside far from the major cities. This rural town of approximately 25,000 has more than ten mosques as all the residents who live there are Muslims. As there were no churches in the town, in order to attend Holy Mass I would have to drive more than sixty miles by car every Sunday along the Mediterranean coastal highway to the great port city of Haifa where the closest church was located. It became my custom that first year living in Israel to attend Holy Mass in Haifa at the magnificent Stella Maris Church which sits atop Mount Carmel. This shrine church is built over the cave of the Prophet Elijah. It was such a blessing to see not only Christians, but Muslims and Jews come to this shrine church as all three religions hold Elijah as one of their revered holy prophets. While devout Catholics adored the Lord during the Holy Mass which was being said in the sanctuary built over the cave, Jews and Muslims would enter in the midst of the sacred celebration and quietly walk down the aisle between the worshipping Christians and enter the cave below the High Altar while Jesus would be sacramentally Present and they would light candles and say their prayers to God. This holy shrine indeed was a “house of prayer for all nations.”

Even them will I bring to My holy mountain, and make them joyful in My house of prayer: their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon My altar; for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.(Isaiah 56:7)

Back in America, there were innumerable churches within a close distance to my home and I was immensely blessed to be able to go to Holy Mass every day without driving those sixty miles to get to the closet church. I was able to receive the body, blood, soul and divinity of Jesus Christ in Holy Communion daily. I was fully immersed in a vibrant Christian community life where I would join with my brothers and sisters of the Faith in fellowship, in prayer in several small groups, and where I served the Lord by visiting the sick and elderly in the area nursing homes as an assistant to a priest in his ministry. Every day my body and soul was nourished by hearing the Word of God proclaimed, receiving Our Lord sacramentally in Holy Communion and sharing the Holy Spirit in communal prayer with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them. (Matthew 18:20)

Indeed, I felt loved by my husband’s Arab family and most assuredly, I was touched by the kindness of many of the town’s residents and absolutely, I rejoiced to be able to attend Holy Mass at the Stella Maris Church every Sunday, yet, during the remaining six days of the week I felt deeply the pangs of intense loneliness for fellowship with the members of my “Household of Faith.”

So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. (Galatians 6:10)
After about nine months living in the village, as usual I went up to Haifa to the Stella Maris for the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. In those most intimate moments just after having received Holy Communion I poured my aching heart out to my sweet Jesus in prayer telling him of my intense loneliness and feelings of isolation and how I longed to have fellowship with the Body of Christ, not just for one hour on Sundays. I said to Him, “I know You are always with me, but I miss my brothers and sisters! I am so lonely! Please help me find my family here as I am a stranger in an alien land.”

opus-deiThe Mass ended a few moments later and I got up to leave the church. When I turned around there was a woman looking directly at me whose face radiated joy and her beaming smile reached from one side to the other. Her bright eyes and glowing face captivated me. She wanted to say something, but I motioned to her to follow me out of the church as I did not want to disturb anyone who remained in prayer. When we were outside of the great shrine church, she greeted me with all the love and warmth of a long lost sister.

Hearing an accent, I asked her where she was from. She responded, “I am Mexican, but I have come from Jerusalem to find the one the Lord is calling.” When I heard her words, my heart leapt for joy as I realized my beloved Jesus had so compassionately and without delay responded to my heart’s cry and answered my prayer of just moments before when I poured out my soul to Him during Holy Communion. My sister in the Lord had come that particular Sunday by the leading of the Holy Spirit all the way to Haifa from Jerusalem where she had been living for nearly 18 years in the community of Catholic ladies of the Prelature of Opus Dei. As she herself said to me by the prompting of the Holy Spirit, “I came to find the one the Lord is calling.”
From that very day and for the rest of my years living in Israel I enjoyed close Christian fellowship, and a deep Catholic community life in the Household of Faith with my new family of Opus Dei in Jerusalem and throughout all of the Holy Land.

And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for My sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. (Matthew 19:29)

Roma-Santa_Maria_sopra_Mine
Rome
During our time of living in Israel, my family decided to take a trip to Rome during Easter holy week 2010. As we were driving from the airport into Rome, our jovial taxi driver enjoyed sharing with us his love for his city by telling us many facts about Rome. Of everything he told us, one fact stuck in my memory. “Rome has more than 1000 churches.” The day we arrived in Rome was Holy Thursday. I desired very much to attend the Mass of the Lord’s Last Supper. The taxi driver dropped us off at our lovely hotel overlooking the Borghese Gardens. After checking in we made our way down into the center of Rome and began to enjoy our first afternoon’s adventures. We walked through the Borghese Gardens to the Spanish Steps, and then onto the Via del Corso, to the Piazza del Populo, and many other squares and streets until we arrived at the Pantheon. At this point the afternoon was getting late and I was becoming anxious about attending Mass.

I had thought we would go back to the hotel at some point where I could ask the Concierge for information about the times of Masses at particular churches nearby. But we never returned to the hotel that afternoon as my husband and children had every desire to stay in the center to continue sight-seeing and ultimately to find a good outdoor café on one of the squares to sit down for a long leisurely meal and watch the people walk by. I wanted to tell them how anxious I was becoming about not knowing when and where I would be able to attend Holy Mass on this most sacred of evenings, but as my husband doesn’t share my faith, I was alone in my inner turmoil. I felt awkward to ask him to make special arrangements for me. I could not fathom the idea of missing the Mass of the Lord’s Last Supper while here I was in Rome during Holy Week just because I did not know where to go and at what time the great Mass would begin! And it seemed even more absurd when I recalled the taxi drivers’ comment about Rome having more than 1000 churches! The distressing thought that this might actually turn out to be the case caused me to suffer so very much within myself.

I lifted my heart to the Lord in my distress right there outside the great Pantheon. Jesus could feel my agony of heart and suffering of mind and He knew how much I desired to be with Him this night during the Holy Mass – to be with Him in spirit, in the Room of the Last Supper and in spirit, to walk with Him afterwards to the Garden of Gethsemane and in spirit, to stay awake with Him there and keep Him company during His Agony. I trusted Jesus would help me somehow, although I could not imagine what He would do.

The Lord’s Supper
While they were eating, Jesus took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and giving it to his disciples said, “Take and eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which will be shed on behalf of many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you from now on I shall not drink this fruit of the vine until the day when I drink it with you anew in the kingdom of my Father.” Then, after singing a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. (Matthew 26:26-30)

The Agony in the Garden
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took along Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to feel sorrow and distress. Then he said to them, “My soul is sorrowful even to death. Remain here and keep watch with me.” He advanced a little and fell prostrate in prayer, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” When he returned to his disciples he found them asleep. He said to Peter, “So you could not keep watch with me for one hour? Watch and pray that you may not undergo the test. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Withdrawing a second time, he prayed again, “My Father, if it is not possible that this cup pass without my drinking it, your will be done!” Then he returned once more and found them asleep, for they could not keep their eyes open. He left them and withdrew again and prayed a third time, saying the same thing again. Then he returned to his disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Behold, the hour is at hand when the Son of Man is to be handed over to sinners. Get up, let us go. Look, my betrayer is at hand.” (Matthew 26:36-46)
No sooner had I lifted my heart to the Lord in my distress than my husband said, completely out of the blue, and pointing to the left side of the great Pantheon, “ There’s a church over there which Claudio showed me the last time I came to Rome. There’s a saint in glass in there. You should go in and see it. I can’t remember which saint he said it was.”

I was stunned. My husband had just pointed out a church to me and suggested that I go inside! The fact that he told me to go into a church was quite enough to make me very happy. We approached the Church of Santa Maria Sopre Minerva and the big doors were wide open and I could see that many people were moving around inside. As soon as we stepped inside a well groomed young man in a black suit spoke in English to us asking, “Are you here for the Mass?” I was awestruck. I quickly asked him if the Mass of the Lord’s Supper was being celebrated there at this time. The polite young man acknowledged that Holy Mass would begin in five minutes! He handed me a missal and invited me to join them. I was overjoyed! My husband asked how long the Mass would last and after the young man answered him, he graciously permitted me to stay for the two hour celebration and told me that he would come back for me after the Mass had ended.

Caterina_sopra_MinervaI found a seat in the middle of the huge church which was filled to capacity with the faithful. Observing around me I could see from a distance that under the high altar there was the glass sarcophagus which held the incorrupt body of St Catherine of Sienna. Looking around I also noticed that I was nearly the only female in the entire church. The church was filled with men. I wondered who they all were. I assumed they must be a pilgrim group visiting Rome during Holy Week. Mass began and my heart flew upwards into the Heart of Jesus. I was so grateful to Jesus for answering my heart’s desire to be able to be with Him at the Holy Mass of the Lord’s Last Supper in Rome and I was in a state of immense joy and awe-struck wonder over the way He had brought events to pass. How great is the Lord and what love and compassion He has for His children!

sscruzAs the Mass progressed I felt so peaceful and joyful and safe, as if I was in my own home, like being with a dear family. Even though I was practically the only woman amongst a thousand men, I felt I was amongst all my brothers, the dearest of brothers. I was with my own family. God our Father was present, Jesus our Brother was with us, Mary our Mother too, and all our brother and sister saints in Heaven were also present with us there during the solemn celebration of the Eucharist, and all the members of the Body of Christ on earth were also united with us in this spiritual Household of Faith. Something else also felt so familiar to me and I could not put my finger on it. Then, when the general intercessions were made, St Jose Maria Escriva, the Founder of Opus Dei was named, and then I realized that all these men from all over the world were of the family of Opus Dei!

The Lord had sent the Mexican holy lady of Opus Dei to find me in Haifa in order to end my isolation and loneliness during my first year in Israel and to bring me into fellowship with these sisters in Jerusalem. Then when I was yet again a stranger in a foreign city our Good Shepherd led me right into the midst of my Opus Dei family in Rome! Remember there are more than 1000 churches in Rome! Only Our Great God can do such marvels!

Remember also that God our Father is calling you into His Family of Love through His Son Jesus Christ, Our Lord who came to earth to save us from our sins and by dying on the Cross and rising from the dead Jesus opened for us the door to Eternal Life. Jesus is our older Brother and the Head of God’s Household of Faith. He invites you to trust in Him, follow Him and He will lead you to the Heavenly Home of His Father and ours, and to all our brothers and sisters of the Household of Faith who have gone before us.

Lost and Found


Have you ever felt lost and confused about which way to go? I have. Recently I was questioning whether some steps I had taken with regard to this writing apostolate were what the Lord desired. I want to be in and do only His Will. After a period of some struggle within my spirit, I lifted up a cry to the Lord for clarity.

During that intimate time of union with Jesus after receiving Him in Holy Communion He helped me understand that I had been “wandering” and that I should “take His Hand again” and permit Him to guide me as a father leads his little child and He will take me and our work together where He wants us to go. Because I have responded to Jesus, I feel very peaceful again and secure.

Our Lord cares for us at all times and keeps watch over us every moment of our lives. He desires that we always are safe in His love. To be united to Him in love we must have a relationship with Him through prayer and through obedience to His loving commandments and docility to His Spirit.

The Holy Spirit reminded me of an experience I had while in Israel that reveals the Good Shepherd’s care for and guiding of His sheep, the unity with the heart and mind of Jesus that comes through prayer and the fruit of such prayer: that the work of the Lord is accomplished and His will is done.

Not long after my family moved to Israel I journeyed from the town where we were living along the coast to Jerusalem one day on my own. I did not know the city and knew nobody yet in the city. My goal was to drive up to Jerusalem and park outside the old city walls and enter through the Damascus Gate. From there I would walk through the old city streets and make my way to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and pray a rosary there. I would take my time sauntering through the narrow cobblestone streets, soaking in the atmosphere and looking at the stores and shrines along the way and begin to get my bearings in this foreign country and in this mysterious, majestic and holy city.

I rejoiced when they said to me,
“Let us go to the house of the LORD.”
And now our feet are standing
within your gates, Jerusalem.
Jerusalem is built like a city
that is closely compacted together.
There the tribes go up,
the tribes of the LORD,
As it was decreed for Israel,
to give thanks to the name of the LORD.
There are the thrones of justice,
the thrones of the house of David.

For the peace of Jerusalem pray:
“May those who love you prosper!
May peace be within your ramparts,
prosperity within your towers.”
For the sake of my brothers and friends I say,
“Peace be with you.”
For the sake of the house of the LORD, our God,
I pray for your good. (Psalm 122)

I walked for long time. After a while I realized I was completely lost. I did not know where I was. I had wandered into an area of the old city where there were not so many people around. I found myself on a street that seemed like a back alley far from the beaten path and I did not know which way to turn.

There was no one to whom I could ask directions. I was all alone. Although it was daylight, I felt suddenly nervous to be all alone in a big strange city on the other side of the world, not even knowing if I were in a safe area of the city as I had surely left the tourist and pilgrim area. Where were the people?

I was disoriented and had no sense of which way to go to find my way back to where I had come from. Then in my disquiet I lifted my heart to Jesus and He could see my distress. I don’t recall if I used any words in my prayer crying out to the Lord for help. I know He is always with me. I know that even if there is no one else around, He is there. He is always with me and Jesus Himself said that He would never forsake us or leave us! I stood there at a bend in the alley and looked around. I was all alone in this foreign city seven thousand miles from home and lost and very uneasy.

As I pondered in faith the knowledge of the truth that my Lord Jesus is always with me, I calmed myself. Just then, two women came around the corner of the alleyway and began walking towards me. As they drew nearer, one of them called out, “Ann!” I was struck with complete surprise and total be-wilderment as I wondered how in the whole wide world could my own name be called out like that by strangers. Who could know my name? How can this be? Then I saw their faces and realized that these two women were part of a Catholic group that lived outside of the old city of Jerusalem.

I had been introduced to them in a brief introduction a few weeks before when I had been invited to join in a “tour” of a holy site with others from their group. They had remembered me! And more amazingly, they had appeared “out of no-where” here in the old city on this remote back alley way right after I had called out to the Lord in my distress to help me. I was overjoyed when I realized our compassionate Lord had instantly answered my prayer and delivered me from my fear!

I told them how I had ventured to Jerusalem that day on my own and had gotten lost and ended up there in that back alleyway all alone. I told them that I had just prayed to Jesus asking His help as I was getting scared. I asked them what they were doing in Jerusalem on this little alley-way. They then told me that they had come into the old city to go to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in order to pray the rosary! That is where they were heading and what they were intending to do! I was utterly amazed. I shared with them that that too was my intention but that I had gotten lost.

I told them that the Lord had clearly sent them to me to help me find my way! Our joy was immense as we rejoiced at Jesus’ kindness and care for His children. They led me through the narrow cobblestone back streets of Jerusalem to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and together we entered and went to the back chapel where on our knees before the Good Shepherd of our souls we poured our hearts of love out to Him while praying the holy rosary.

After we parted I made my way back the now familiar path to the Damascus Gate where I departed the old city and picked up my car. As I drove the highway home to the coastal town I worshipped Jesus with all my heart. So enraptured in prayer was I that I missed the exit of the highway to my town. I took the following exit, and at the bottom of the exit ramp I stopped at the traffic light.

There was a man standing there and he was seeking a ride. Generally I did not pick up hitch-hikers, but having been in a near state of ecstasy I was not thinking. My window was half rolled down and he leaned forward and asked where I was headed and if he could catch a ride. I joyfully told him that I was going near to the place where he wanted to go, and so I would be happy to take him.

As I mentioned, I was quite beside myself in joy having been praising Jesus all the way from Jerusalem on the account of His rescue of me in that alleyway by the remarkable way He affected it. Therefore, I was not fully concentrated on the man getting into my car. As we drove away I looked over at him and was suddenly struck by the fact that he was dressed in the religious attire of the Jews and on his lap was a huge book with gold-leaf pages and an impressive gilded cover.

He looked at me and asked, “did you make Alliyah?” I understand what he was asking me. He wanted to know if I was a Jew who had returned to Israel under the law of birthright. I smiled and pointed to my crucifix hanging from my front mirror, and sweetly told him, “No, I am a Christian,” at which point we both suddenly fell quiet.

I had not realized my hitch-hiker was a Yeshiva student who was to become a rabbi, and he did not know that he had hopped into the car of “a goyim” (meaning: a gentile/of the nations) as he afterwards in complete seriousness referred to me! But just as in the back alleyway Jesus had brought the holy ladies to me, our Lord had also brought this encounter about with Itzhak, the rabbinical student!
After a moment of silence the Holy Spirit moved and a deep and intense conversation began and what a conversation it was!

The drive took only about half an hour to the bus stop where I would ultimately bid Itzhak a fond farewell and “Godspeed.” As the busses pulled in and out and the passengers got on and off, we sat there for over two hours in my stopped car with the engine running conversing together about the Lord God and His Word.

Izthak, at one moment in his utter exasperation, as the Holy Spirit was assisting me to eloquently and accurately expound and unfold the true meaning of the Old Testament scriptures of Micah, Jeremiah, Daniel and Isaiah and their prophetic fulfillment in Jesus as the true Messiah of the Jews, Itzhak cried to me, “I am not allowed to listen to a goyim, or a woman, only my rabbi! ”

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone…..For a Child is born to us, a Son is given us; upon His shoulder dominion rests. They name Him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, From David’s throne, and over His kingdom, which He confirms and sustains by judgment and justice, both now and forever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this! (Isaiah 9:6)

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn King of the Jews? We saw His star at its rising and have come to do Him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him. Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet: ‘And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel.'” (Matthew 2:1-6)

But you, Bethlehem-Ephrathah too small to be among the clans of Judah, From you shall come forth for Me one who is to be ruler in Israel; Whose origin is from of old, from ancient times. Therefore the Lord will give them up, until the time when she who is to give birth has borne; and the rest of His brethren shall return to the children of Israel. He shall stand firm and shepherd his flock by the strength of the LORD, in the majestic name of the LORD, His God; and they shall remain, for now His greatness shall reach to the ends of the earth; He shall be peace. (Micah 5:2)

But nonetheless Itzhak just could not leave me. He seemed powerless to be able to with-draw himself from my car – although of course, he was free to leave at any time. I was surely not holding him hostage! – for the truth is that Itzhak was completely captivated by the Holy Spirit who was convicting his heart and mind of the Truth of Jesus Christ, who is the long-awaited Messiah of the Jews.

He was simply awe- struck by the truth that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the Living God of Israel could be known personally and intimately (by a woman!) through the Person of Jesus Christ, the Father’s Only Begotten Son, who is God incarnate, the Lord of lords, the King of kings, the Son of David, the Messiah and King of the Jews, and that Jesus loves him (Itzhak) so much that He died for him personally to save him from his sins.

Itzhak who was literally trembling from the Presence of the Holy Spirit who was powerfully with us in the car thanked me for all that had been shared and upon leaving he asked me for my telephone number. I gladly gave it to him and I assured him that night or day I would be willing to meet with him anywhere he wanted to share with him the Lord Jesus Christ – the lover of his ( Itzhak’s) soul and the Good Shepherd of Israel.

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews.

He came to Jesus at night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these signs that you are doing unless God is with him.”

Jesus answered and said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Nicodemus said to him, “How can a person once grown old be born again? Surely he cannot reenter his mother’s womb and be born again, can he?”

Jesus answered, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.

What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of spirit is spirit.
Do not be amazed that I told you, ‘You must be born from above.’
The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Nicodemus answered and said to him, “How can this happen?”
Jesus answered and said to him, “You are the teacher of Israel and you do not understand this?

Amen, amen, I say to you, we speak of what we know and we testify to what we have seen, but you people do not accept our testimony.
If I tell you about earthly things and you do not believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?

No one has gone up to heaven except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man.
And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up,
so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. (John 3: 1-17)

As he was leaving my car I told Itzhak I would always keep him in my prayers. I also encouraged him to pray to his Messiah, Jesus that same night and that surely Jesus would hear and swiftly respond to his call. As Itzhak was departing I also reassured him he was travelling on the right road to eternity!

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.
(John 4:16)

I Will Answer Them


I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! (Psalm 55:22 NLT)

During these past five years, I have been dealing with many serious issues in my family: a mother with late stage cancer, a father who suffers from extreme anxiety, a daughter who suffers from depression and anxiety, an alcoholic sister, and my own experience of battling breast cancer, to name just some of the many trials I have had to face and intense worries for those I love. Jesus has stayed close with me and helped me gradually accept each of these challenges and struggles bringing me into His peace and giving me His calm assurance of His loving presence in the midst of these heavy storms of life.

This past August I took a trip to visit my dear friend, Marianne in her home country of Holland. One evening we paid a visit to one of her Dutch friends and shared a meal together. As the three of us are Christians we shared our faith in prayer and through exchanging some of our personal issues with each other and testifying to the goodness of the Lord in each of our lives. At one point during our conversation, AnnaLies said to me, “The Lord is working quietly behind the scenes.” She was reassuring me, with regard to my cares over the seemingly un-surmountable problems of my family that Our Lord was indeed at work concerning them. She encouraged me to “cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you…”(Psalm 55:22) and that I should trust Jesus even more and have stronger faith as “…with people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26)

About a week after I returned home from Holland I attended a prayer group on a Thursday morning with a group of devout Catholic women, the majority of whom I had never met before. Towards the end of the prayer time two of the ladies went around to each woman and laid hands on each of the ladies present and prayed over us in the Holy Spirit. They came to me and prayed over me. They moved on to the woman seated next to me on my right and prayed over her and then on to the woman to her right and so forth. As soon as the woman to my right had been prayed over she turned to me and spoke to me privately, saying, “The Lord has something He would like for me to tell you. He said: He is working in a hidden way.” Upon hearing this word I was overjoyed. I had never met this woman before and she did not know me at all! I knew for certain, however, that through these words, the Holy Spirit was truly speaking to me to encourage my faith and trust in Him just as AnnaLies had exhorted me to do! Our Lord had communicated to me the same message that He was working mysteriously behind the scenes. We rejoiced together when I shared with her the previous word I had been given from the Holy Spirit through AnnaLies in Holland just a short while before!

I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! (Psalm 55:22 NLT)

After this experience I knew which should be the next account that Jesus would have me share with you. In 2006 I used to go to a particular Catholic gift shop in the town where I used to live at that time. I had come to be friendly with one of the sales assistants there. She was a grandmother. She knew that I was soon to leave on a trip to the Holy Land that summer and she requested of me that during my trip I would pray for her grandson who suffered from a serious degenerative illness. (I can’t recall which disease she said it was. I think it was spinal muscular atrophy.) She wrote the name of her grandson on a small piece of paper and gave it to me and asked that I place it in one of the holy shrines for her while I was in the Holy Land. I folded the little piece of paper with her grandson’s name on it and put it in my wallet assuring her I would pray to Jesus for her grandson’s healing and that I would leave the written prayer request in a special place in the Holy Land. I told her I would let the Holy Spirit guide me as to in which shrine I should leave her written prayer intention.

I left shortly thereafter for my trip to the Holy Land with my family. We visited our own extended family there and as was our custom during every trip we went around to all the holy places. During these travels, somehow I lost the little piece of paper with the grandmother’s prayer intention written on it. When I discovered I had lost the paper, I felt very sad. I felt so badly in my heart knowing how important this was for the grandmother, not only that I would pray for her grandson’s healing to Jesus at one of the most holy places which He had sanctified by His holy Presence there, but also that I should leave the prayer intention physically at one of the holy sites where Christ in His flesh had been while He walked on this Earth.

One day my husband and I drove to Mount Tabor, the place of the Transfiguration of Christ. While on the Mount I prayed to Jesus for my own husband’s conversion – that one day he would come to faith in Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior. My husband at that time was a professing atheist. While we travelled together to all these holy Christian sites, he did so for purely for my benefit, (and may the Lord bless him for his expression of love to me in this wonderful way!) As we were descending the steep mountain by car down the winding road, a sudden and strong desire came into my heart. Many times we had been to Mount Tabor during past visits to Israel. Once down from the mountain back onto the flat land the highway passes a small village called NAIN. We had passed in our car by this village many, many times and had never entered into the village. At the entrance to the village of Nain is a brown tourist sign that marks the place as a biblical spot. As we were driving near to the village, the desire to enter it arose strongly in my heart. But I did not ask my husband to go in this time as during all the other visits to Israel when I had requested this to my husband he always gave some excuse not to enter. My heart was lifted high to the Lord with the strong desire to go into the village as we approached it along the highway. It was almost as if my heart was burning. To my utter astonishment, my husband slowed the car and said to me without my asking him, “Do you want to go in to see?” I couldn’t believe it! This was remarkable! In that moment, I knew full well in my heart it was the complete working of the Holy Spirit to move him to this action. But I had no idea why or what was in store for us.

We wound our way through the narrow small streets looking for a sign that would show us the way to the holy site somewhere hidden in the village. The village is no longer a Jewish or Christian village since the Islamic period. It is today a Muslim village. We searched the skyline and saw a high stone structure in the middle of the village. We headed for it. When we arrived at the building, we saw that it was an ancient church. The sign indicated it was part of the Franciscan Custody of Christian sites in the Holy Land. It was not being used for daily worship as the village has no Christians living there. We approached the historic church and rattled the big wooden door. It was locked. There was a small Arab house next to the church. A Muslim woman came out and my husband began to speak with her in Arabic. She explained that the church was closed. It was only opened for pilgrim groups by pre-arrangement through tour guides. She went into her modest home and returned carrying a large ancient key – the sort you might see in a movie depicting the middle ages. I was delighted. She was going to let us in to see this ancient shrine church which had been built to commemorate the miracle that Jesus performed in this little dusty village about 2000 years ago – the raising of the widow’s son.

Soon afterward He journeyed to a city called Nain, and His disciples and a large crowd accompanied Him. As He drew near to the gate of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. A large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, He was moved with pity for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” He stepped forward and touched the coffin; at this the bearers halted, and He said, “Young man, I tell you, arise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming, “A great prophet has arisen in our midst,” and “God has visited his people.” This report about Him spread through the whole of Judea and in all the surrounding region. (Luke 7: 11-17)

The Muslim woman put the huge key into the keyhole and opened the door. My husband remained outside. He did not want to enter the church. I stepped through the huge wooden doorframe into the ancient solid stone church. Inside it was nearly bare. It had an altar with candles on it and a solitary kneeler for prayer positioned in front of the altar. It was cold and damp and austere. I kneeled on the kneeler and began my prayers recalling this tremendous miracle that Our Lord had performed out of his compassionate love and mercy and great power to raise the boy back to life and restore him to his grieving mother. I thought of the grandmother’s agonizing heart for her very sick grandson and recalled her prayer petition. I prayed for the boy’s healing and consolation for his grandmother’s suffering heart.

This sacred site was indeed most perfect to lift up in prayer the intention of the grandmother for her young chronically ill grandson. The Holy Spirit had led us to this special place by first inspiring my spirit with His burning fire to desire and lift a silent prayer in my heart while we drove toward the village of Nain, and simultaneously moving my husband’s heart to offer (against all his previous objections) to go into the little town and find the holy site. The Holy Spirit also moved the Muslim woman’s heart to go and get the key and open the door to us. When I found myself alone inside, it was only then that I thought to pray for the grandmother’s sick grandson because of the specific miracle that Christ did there of the raising of the boy to give back to his mother. All this was the work of the Holy Spirit because Our Lord loves us so much and cares for us and knows our heart’s desires and needs, even before we call on Him.

I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! (Psalm 55:22 NLT) Having finished my prayers alone in the old church I walked toward the big door to exit. Above the door hung a huge old oil painting of Jesus raising the widow’s son at Nain. Before I passed out of the doorway of the church the Muslim woman came in and smiling she grabbed my elbow and began to lead me back towards the altar. She did not speak to me assuming I would not understand Arabic. Instead she motioned with her hand in the action of one writing a note. And she pulled out a pen and piece of paper and indicated to me through sign language to write a prayer intention on it. And she then led me to the backside of the altar table where a smaller table was hidden where she pointed at all the written prayer intentions that had been left by pilgrims there! I was astounded. This kind Muslim lady could not know what I had just prayed about, nor that I had been given the charge to pray for a miracle healing for the grandmother’s very ill grandson, nor that I had previously lost her own hand-written prayer intention! I beamed a huge smile at the woman, knowing this was the wonderful work of the Holy Spirit. I hugged her and thanked her for the paper and pen which I had not asked for, nor hinted at in anyway, nor would I have ever known without her leading me of the hidden table full of such petitions on the back side of the altar. I joyfully proceeded to write out the prayer petition for the boy and place it on the altar table, it being the most perfect holy site in the Holy Land to place it! The Lord who knows all the secrets of our hearts wished to help me keep my promise to the grandmother, and to reveal his love and care for each one of us!

When I returned to America I shared this entire remarkable and miraculous account with the grandmother to encourage her in her faith in our merciful and powerful Lord who both heals and saves. I gave her a wooden cross carved from of olive wood of the Holy Land to give to her grandson and to tell him that the Lord sees him, loves him and cares for him. I have no doubt that our awesome Lord is caring for the boy perfectly!

I will answer them before they even call to me. While they are still talking about their needs, I will go ahead and answer their prayers! (Psalm 55:22 NLT)

For Better or For Worse – Until Death Do Us Part


The other day I was folding the huge pile of my family’s laundry. I offered this mundane ordinary household task to our Lord out of love for Him when I asked Jesus, “What would You desire for me to me write in order to witness another of Your many precious blessings to all those who may not know of Your merciful and boundless love?” I added lightheartedly, “Well, let’s think on this together!'” And then I turned around to pick up another piece of clothing from the floor to fold when my eye caught sight of the bedroom wall where a large framed portrait of me in my wedding dress at the age of twenty-five was hanging. I beamed broadly as the Holy Spirit gave me an immediate understanding upon glancing at the portrait what Jesus would have me next share with you.

My husband and I celebrated our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary on June 8, 2012. We met in 1982 as foreign students living in London. I had come from America to do my graduate studies. My future husband, a Palestinian from a poor Muslim family from an Arab town in central Israel had come to London the year before me. He had come to London from Jerusalem where he had been working since leaving his village to what he hoped would be a new life full of many opportunities. We were both about 22 years old. I found a small studio near Marble Arch and moved into it the weekend before classes began.

That particular Sunday morning I spontaneously decided to walk across nearby Hyde Park and go alone to a museum on the other side of the park. (On Sundays I did not go to church. Although I had been baptized as a toddler in my mother’s Norwegian Lutheran church and sent to Sunday school until the time of my confirmation at age 13, I had never formed a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. As a teen-ager and later as a college student and then a graduate student I lived a very worldly life far from God.)

As I walked back across Hyde Park I arrived at Speaker’s Corner and there I saw a large group of people gathered around one man who was standing on a soap box speaking to the crowd about foreign affairs. In particular he was discussing the Israeli – Lebanese – Palestinian war which had broken out during that summer of 1982 and a terrible massacre of men, women and children in the Sabra and Shatila refugee camp in Lebanon that had occurred. I stopped and listened for a while to a conversation he was having with one young American student about this subject.

Although I had left the Lord years ago by my life choices, He had not abandoned me! As compassion moved within my heart – all love and goodness has its origin in God – I felt the suffering of all these peoples caught up in a brutal war – their struggle, their pain, their yearning for justice, for acceptance, for dignity, for security, for peace, for hope, for life.

I could not hold back any longer. I felt compelled to lift my hand to indicate to the speaker that I too had something to share with those gathered there. I spoke words arising and flowing from God’s love and mercy even though I did not realize this as His presence at that time. In the back of that crowd was a young man who approached me from behind when the session had come to an end and the crowd was dispersing. He was “attracted” to me because of the words of understanding and compassion that I had spoken. The young man wanted to get to know me. Yet, in truth, it is the Lord he really heard – the Spirit of love and goodness – the One all our hearts innately desire to know.

Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love. In this way the love of God was revealed to us: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might have life through Him. In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as expiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and His love is brought to perfection in us.
This is how we know that we remain in Him and He in us, that He has given us of His Spirit…

God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him… We love because He first loved us… for whoever does not love a brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. This is the commandment we have from Him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. (1st John 4)

And so began the journey of our lives together. We fell in love and thinking that was valid enough reason, we moved into my little studio at Marble Arch “knowing” each other but not “knowing” God. At that time we were spiritually ignorant of the truth that every human being is called to live a life of godliness in reflection of the glorious image of their Holy Creator.

Genesis 1:26
Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.”
2 Peter 1:4
By which He has granted to us His precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the Divine Nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.

Both of us having long before turned from the spiritual truths taught to us in our youth and following the ways of the world our consciences became dim over the years. We came to believe that it was acceptable to have sexual relations before marriage and to cohabitate. Our minds had been re-fashioned according to the pervading ungodly modern secular world view and we had lost the sense of sin.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ…( Ephesians 2:1-22)

At Easter-time 1983 during the University break we decided to make a romantic trip to Rome. Neither of us had ever visited the Eternal City before.

One night we went out dancing and drank way too much wine. We woke up the next day close to dinner time, completely disoriented to the time and place. We regretted our foolish behavior, but not out of shame that our actions offended our holy and loving Heavenly Father, but rather because we both had headaches and felt sick.
And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18).

One afternoon we went to the Trevi Fountain where we threw three coins into the waters vowing to each other that we would get married and one day return back to Rome to throw three coins in the fountain again after having been married. Even though we were far from God at that time, in His long-suffering and merciful love He would never forsake us. He would continue to call us patiently and perseveringly to eventually draw us back to Himself.

Some time later we went to St Peter’s, not out of any religious motivation, but as tourists. The exact time we happened to walk into St. Peter’s Square, the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II was processing across the courtyard. What a “coincidence” that we had arrived at that exact moment to see the Holy Father at very close proximity completely in the open. We took an entire roll of film.
We were excited to see, not the Vicar of Christ, nor the visible Head of Christ’s Universal Church, nor the Supreme Pontiff of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church or the beloved Holy Father to more than a billion Christians, but for both of us at that time, simply a “famous personality” for whom we had no particular sentiment.

But one day, many, many years later after having being pursued in long-suffering, passionate, merciful love by the Heavenly Bridegroom, I would turn my whole being back to the Jesus of my childhood to receive His total forgiveness for my multitude of sins and so enter into the joyful intimacy of “knowing” Him – who is the Divine Lover of my soul. I can clearly see the tender Hand of the steadfast God gently holding and guiding my (and my husband’s life) throughout all these years and I understand that there is no such thing as “coincidence.”

We completed our studies in London and together moved to America. In 1985 after cohabiting for three years, we were married in the protestant church of my childhood for sake of “tradition.” I still recall the good efforts of the dedicated pastor who tried so hard to share the truth of the Gospel with us, but we still did not have “ears to hear.”

Now it came to pass, afterward, that He went through every city and village, preaching and bringing the glad tidings of the kingdom of God…

And when a great multitude had gathered, and they had come to Him from every city, He spoke by a parable: “A sower went out to sow His seed. And as He sowed, some fell by the wayside; and it was trampled down, and the birds of the air devoured it. Some fell on rock; and as soon as it sprang up, it withered away because it lacked moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up with it and choked it. But others fell on good ground, sprang up, and yielded a crop a hundredfold.” When He had said these things He cried, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear!…”

Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. Those by the wayside are the ones who hear; then the devil comes and takes away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved…. (Luke 8)

Nonetheless, the good pastor performed the rite of “holy matrimony” before the living God and Lord of Heaven whom we did not yet know or recognize at that time of our lives. Yet, we entered into our marriage with full knowledge of our actions and complete sincerity towards each other intending our solemn vow to be binding “until death do us part.”

Like most married couples, we experienced times of joy and passion, times of hardships and dryness, times of closeness and alienation and lack of communication, times of triumphs and grave moral failures towards each other. Careers began, children were born, illness struck, vows were broken and forgiveness was offered… Over three decades we had experienced nearly everything possible – good and bad – in a marriage. Without the grace of God, we could not have made it.

About 15 years into our marriage I began to follow Christ after He sought me, a lost sheep, and found me, carrying me as His little lamb and gently leading me into His Holy Catholic Church. The years after my conversion were extremely challenging years with my husband who remained an avowed atheist. The hard words of Jesus were fulfilled in our case:

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword.
For I have come to set a man ‘against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household.’” Matthew 10:35-36

After coming into the Catholic Church I began to pray for a miracle. I prayed alone secretly to Jesus that by our 25th wedding anniversary which would take place in June of 2010, the Lord would bring about a change of heart in my husband, and would bless me by giving us the extraordinary gift of a renewal of our 25th wedding vows in the Catholic Church. While I prayed for this dream to come true, in all honesty I could never imagine it as a reality, even with all the faith I had. How little faith we really have! How little we trust our all- powerful Lord! I hoped for it, but I did not believe it would come to pass. It would be an unimaginable miracle!

One morning my husband woke having had a powerful dream. He dreamed that we were renewing our wedding vows. I was astounded and began to wonder what Jesus may be doing. My husband until that moment did not know about my secret prayer that I had been praying since coming into the Catholic Church in 2004. Only the Lord knew this! After his dream, I told him of my secret prayer of all these years. Because of the suffering in our marriage and the work of forgiveness, his heart had been softened and he was able to receive this!! He told me he would be willing to renew our marriage vows in Church!

This was the first part of my prayer being answered by our Lord Jesus – that He brought about a softening and change of my husband’s heart through our sufferings and through the mercy and forgiveness that only God (Jesus) makes possible.

The Lord used our suffering to move us to Israel a few months later. After my husband’s mysterious dream and my revealing my secret prayer to him – as I could now share spiritual things with him in conversations for the first time – I could openly begin to try to make an arrangement to renew our 25th wedding vows in the Catholic Church. So I wrote a letter to a close friend in Rome asking him for his help to set up something thing special for us for this occasion. At one point he contacted me and told me that he was working on something extraordinary! He was trying to set things up so that we could come to Rome and join a small group to receive a papal blessing from Pope Benedict XVI our marriage. How exciting!

The months passed and the summer of 2009 approached. I received a call from Claudio, my Roman friend a few days before heading home to America to visit my parents that summer. He told me very sadly that he had tried everything to set up this blessed event during the entire year, but that his “inside” contact, had just been moved from their official post and all his hard efforts to “make it happen” had come to naught. He had come to a “dead end.” He expressed how terribly sorry he was to disappoint me. Oh well, I guess it not supposed to happen, I thought.

I left for the USA and arrived in New Jersey. The very next day I went to the local Catholic Church in my parents’ town for a daily mass. A short, stocky Italian-American monsignor had celebrated Mass that day. I did not know him. He must have recognized that I was a visitor and not one of his regular daily mass attendees. He came over to me and greeted me warmly. We spoke a few minutes, and he mentioned Rome and Italy. I responded casually that I had been planning to make a trip next year with my husband after 28 years since our first and only trip together of 1982 as young students. I shared with him that we would make a type of pilgrimage back to the Trevi Fountain to throw three coins in it to fulfill the vow we made before we married. I shared about our fateful “coincidental” encounter with Pope John Paul II in front of St Peter’s during that long-ago trip years and years before I would return to the Jesus of my childhood or could ever imagine He would bring me into His Church.

I told him nothing of my recently dashed hopes concerning Claudio’s failure to set up a renewal of our 25th wedding vows in Rome nor the secret prayer I had made for years after coming into the Catholic faith for that purpose, nor all the suffering in my marriage, nor the conversions of hearts that the Lord worked which brought things to this point.

Suddenly, the Monsignor said to me, I can make arrangements for you and your husband to celebrate your 25th renewal of wedding vows at St Peter’s with a private mass. I was astounded! I couldn’t believe this was happening! My joy was uncontainable! I then shared with the Monsignor the entire sequence of events. Now, I would wait to see if he would indeed follow up with his offer. He did. He sent me emails throughout the year apprising me of all his efforts. He identified a priest in Rome who would be the one to say the private mass for us and who renew our vows at St Peter’s Basilica. The priest began communications with me from Rome to Israel. We had at first made plans to have the mass exactly on our wedding anniversary date of June 8.

As June 8, 2010 approached, we realized that travelling to Rome during that week would be difficult as our two daughters would still be in school. So we agreed with the priest to set the mass up during Easter week when they would be out of school for the Easter holiday. We travelled to Rome during Easter week 2010. Early one morning we met the priest at St Peter’s Basilica. The sun was just coming up over the horizon behind the great Basilica. I entered the sacred space with immense joy in my heart as I reflected on all that the good Lord did to bring us to this place and this point in our lives. What gratitude and adoration I felt. He had accomplished the seemingly impossible. He had brought us together through His Spirit, given us two beautiful daughters as the fruit of our love, guided us and protected us all through the years, waited for us, called us, sustained us in our trials, sufferings, agonies, transformed us, blessed us…….and here we were at His doing. Praise you Lord for your unfathomable love!


The priest vested for the mass. He led us to one of the altars inside the great Basilica that had been assigned to him that morning for our private mass. We approached the niche which was the altar of St Thomas. Above the altar was a massive oil painting of St Thomas putting his fingers into the side of the Risen Christ after His Resurrection. I thought to myself in that instance, “how appropriate ” as my husband ( although now with a new heart towards me and respectful of my life of faith) did not yet outwardly believe or profess faith in Jesus Christ as his Lord, God and Savior.

A moment before the priest would begin the private mass for my family of four, an unknown woman approached me and leaning towards my ear, she whispered, “Do you doubt?” I was surprised that she should come up to us in the way she did, being that this was a private mass, and further, I was taken aback by her question. My first reaction was to think she was speaking about my husband’s unbelief. And so I responded to her quietly and quickly, “No, I do not have any doubts, but my husband does.” She then said to me, “May I join you in this mass? I will pray for your marriage and family.” Of course, I gladly accepted that she join us.

The priest celebrated a beautiful mass during which my husband and I renewed our wedding vows and received a special blessing on our marriage and love in the presence of the Lord and our children and the mysterious woman. At the end of the mass, the woman said, “Let us sing a song to the Lord in thanksgiving!” She began to sing a hymn, one of my favorites, of which I knew all the words, “How Great Thou Art,” and I joined her in loud voice expressing all my love and gratitude to our great God who does all things well!

In these past two years I have pondered often on this extraordinary “intruder” to our private mass, and this remarkable stranger’s words to me, “Do you doubt?” I do not yet fully comprehend this mysterious encounter. I have come to believe that it is much deeper than I at first understood. I believe that the questioned posed to me is less about my husband than myself. Do I believe all that Lord has done? Do I truly believe he will bring my husband to a good confession of Faith? Do I trust the Lord fully on my own faith journey?

So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he (Thomas) said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in His hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.”

Now a week later his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.”
Then He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see My hands, and bring your hand and put it into My side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen Me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”
Now, Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples that are not written in this book.
But these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in His name. (John 20: 25-31)

Two months after the private mass at St Peter’s in Rome during Easter, and few days before our actual 25th anniversary date of June 8, 2010, my dear friend Marianne and a priest friend Father Avitus from Tanzania who was visiting us in Israel were all together at En Kerem, the place of Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth. As we were walking up the hill towards the shrine church, from a distance we saw four other priests dressed in black at the top of the hill where the Magnificat plaques in all languages were hanging in the courtyard outside of the Church of the Visitation.

One of the priests called down to me and inquired as to whether I spoke Spanish. I told him I did. We approached the four priests and we introduced ourselves briefly. Father Barry who had asked if I spoke Spanish never followed up on why he had asked me that. In other words, I did not translate anything for him. There was no evident need to ask for any help in Spanish as the Magnifact plaques were written in every language including English which the priests were all speaking together.

Still to this day, I think back on the absurdity of his question! However, it served to bring us into conversation with them. Father Barry, a total stranger, then asked an extraordinary question to me. He asked, “When is your wedding anniversary.” I told him it was coming up on the next Tuesday, June 8, 2010, which was three days from that day. Bewildered, I asked him why he asked me this question. He responded, “I knew to ask.” He then told me that on that Tuesday coming up, June 8, the date of our 25th wedding anniversary, he would be in Rome and he would lift up my me and husband and our marriage to the Lord at the great Mass celebrated by Pope Benedict XVI. Incredible!

It seems to me that this miraculous encounter with Father Barry was purposed by the Lord so that he could perfectly complete the good work that He had begun… from the first moment when his Spirit inspired my husband towards me in 1982, through all the years of our marriage, through inspiring my secret prayer for the renewal of our marriage vows in the Catholic Church, not only as it had been carried out in St Peter’s at the private Mass celebrated for this purpose during Easter, but to correct our alteration of the date to the exact day of our 25th wedding anniversary, June 8, 2010. Thus, in my heart I believe that Our Lord mystically con-validated our marriage in Rome on June 8, 2010 in this extraordinary way! Do I doubt? When I recall all this, how can I doubt? Jesus I trust in you!

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How inscrutable are His judgments and how unsearchable His ways! “For who has known the mind of the Lord or who has been His counselor?” …. For from Him and through Him and for Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen. (Romans 11:33-36)

My Angel Malachi


In the diaries of many of the Saints of our Church we learn that they knew their guardian angels by name and had a personal relationship with them. Saint Padre Pio would often call his angel and send him on specific missions on his behalf. St Jose Maria Escriva, exhorted, as a spiritual father to his children in God’s work of Opus Dei, that we love our angels and be filled with gratitude towards them for their enduring kindness and unfailing assistance to us from the moment of our conception through our passage into eternal life as personal guardians given to us by our loving Heavenly Father.

Our Church proposes this daily prayer, “Prayer to the Guardian Angels”:

Angel of God, our guardian dear
To whom God’s love commits us, here
Ever this day be at our side,
To light and guard
To rule and guide.

For most of my life, I did not know that I had a guardian angel. When I entered the Church in 2004 I began reciting the Church’s prayer. Sometimes, although not as often as I should, I prayed from my heart thanking my guardian angel for his lifetime of service to me as I considered the awesome reality of his invisible presence. After a while, in an effort be more personal with my guardian angel I gave him a name.

One day about six months ago, after holy Mass, a lady named Victoria from the church I am now attending came up to speak with me. Our conversation turned to the topic of guardian angels. I told her that I had given a name to my guardian angel. She tilted her head and listened to the Holy Spirit. Then she looked at me and said boldly, “that’s not the name of your guardian angel. His name is Malachi.” Amazed at her forthrightness, I asked her, “Are you sure? She responded confidently, “I am absolutely sure. His name is Malachi.” I was familiar with the name Malachi from the book which bears his name in the Bible. Yet, neither Victoria nor I knew the Hebrew meaning of the name Malachi.

The next day I called Marianne, my partner in the work of this blog and website and shared with her what Victoria had told me. Marianne who has lived for more than 30 years in Israel is fluent in Hebrew. I asked her the meaning of “Malachi.” I was amazed when she told me that “Malachi” means, “my angel”! We rejoiced as we considered how the Holy Spirit had revealed the name of my guardian angel through Victoria. I also looked up the meaning of this name and found this:
From the Hebrew name מַלְאָכִי (Mal’akhiy) meaning “my messenger” or “my angel”. This is one of the twelve minor prophets of the Old Testament, the author of the Book of Malachi, which some claim foretells the coming of Christ.

Sometime later, Victoria and I, having become friends, met for breakfast at a local diner. Unexpectedly, Victoria received another revelation from the Holy Spirit about “Malachi.” Without hesitation she told me, “Your angel Malachi will come to you before Christmas.” It was less than two weeks before Christmas 2011 when she said this to me. Could she really have heard this from the Holy Spirit, I wondered to myself. So I asked her, “How will he come to me?” She replied that she did not know. Then she added, “Perhaps you will see him, or maybe he will appear in a dream or in some other way.” She spoke with such conviction, that I believed her. She then added that my angel would “help you in your apostolate.” After she spoke those words to me about “apostolate” I recalled that strange day of October 7, 2007 when I was confronted by a mysterious stranger – a “messenger” from the Lord who spoke to me as no one had ever spoken to me before.

At the time of our breakfast Victoria knew nothing about my earlier encounter with this “messenger.”

Just before Christmas, I received a call from Marianne from Israel. She told me that she was very anxious to speak with me that morning because during the night she had had a dream about my angel! She told me: “I feel strongly that the Holy Spirit wants you to write the account about your angel”. She was referring to the unusual encounter I had on October 7, 2007 at the World Apostolate of Our Lady of Fatima Shrine with the mysterious messenger.

When Marianne’s dream fulfilled the prophecy of Victoria, I then understood that the messenger at the Shrine had been my angel Malachi! He had indeed come to me to “help me in my apostolate.”
To better tell this story to you, I reread the account of it that I had written in my spiritual journal two days after it took place. Below, I include some excerpts and summations from my diary dated October 9, 2007:

….You are so patient and kind Lord Jesus, and to help me hear You and overcome my hesitation, You sent a prophet to guide me. …. Your messenger….to the Blue Army Shrine of the Immaculate Conception of Mary on the Feast of the Holy Rosary on October 7, who spoke mysteriously and boldly to me about what You expected of me. Through him I heard Your voice. He seemed to speak with Your authority.

It is because of this unusual conversation with Your messenger that I now with determination set out to accomplish that which You are calling me to do.

This is the account of the conversation between Your messenger and me:
Unintentionally, I arrived late for Mass at the Shrine. Seeing the bishop and the congregation standing and singing the Alleluias before the proclamation of the Gospel, I ran from my car as quickly as possible and found the first vacant place at the very back of the open air sanctuary which was full on account of it being the Feast of the Holy Rosary. I felt anxious about having arrived late for Mass. I had made the decision at the last moment to journey to the Shrine instead of going to my own church. I thought the mass would begin at 12 noon.

Now I see that this is Your doing Lord, – a prompting from the Holy Spirit – as You had wanted for me to be at that place. As I came into the sanctuary I realized I had been mistaken about the time that Mass would begin. I took my place, and said to myself quietly, “I thought the Mass would start at 12 o’clock noon.” A tall dark-skinned man who was standing next to me whispered back: “The Lord knows!” His words gave me a great peace and joy and I no longer felt anxious about having arrived late.


At the end of the Mass, the big man turned, took hold of my arm as if to lead me somewhere, and said: “You are not seated here by accident!” As the tall brown man began to lead me out from under the open air sanctuary towards the path that circled the large grounds, he continued: “You have the joy of the Holy Spirit!” He spoke with such a tone of authority. It seemed to me that I was hearing You, Lord! The messenger continued and his next words astounded me. He said to me: “The Lord has commanded you to write and you have been procrastinating.”

He was correct. But how did he know this about me? I had been hearing the Lord asking me to write for a long time and I had been procrastinating. It was truthful what the big man had just told me. I realized that he could only know this truth if the Holy Spirit had revealed this to him. The Lord had used many people in different ways for so many years to speak to me on His behalf, to reveal His will for me. Even my own oncologist, witnessing the supernatural joy that sustained me through all my cancer journey had asked me many months earlier to write and share with him the reason for my joy… meaning, a testimony of my faith. In fact, I had kept the doctor waiting for more than eight months until ultimately I wrote him a letter on September 30, 2007 finally giving him what he had asked for. I had procrastinated terribly. And this was only a week ago! So the big stranger’s words were accurate and I felt a sense of holy fear in his presence that he should know such things about me.

While it was a strong rebuke, the messenger said it to me in a kind manner. Then he added: “All that has been given to you is not for you to keep but to be shared.” Then he told me very tenderly: “You know you will suffer very much.” And he added: “you do not have all the time in the world to do it.” I did not know what to say in reply to these amazing words. I was overwhelmed. He continued: “St. Therese, St. Faustina and Sister Lucia of Fatima were commanded to write. You are also commanded to write and just as the Lord said to St. Faustina, ‘How long shall I put up with you?’ the Lord is saying the same to you. If you do not write it all down, the Lord will hold you accountable!”

I was astounded at his words. He could not know, except by the Lord, that I had just recently been given a gift of St. Faustina’s diary. I had read only a few pages of the book by then. Yet, I had just read those exact words that the Lord spoke to St Faustina, “How long shall I put up with you and how long will you keep putting Me off?”

I was filled with awe.

I know that You Lord desire to save souls. I understand that my writing will be an instrument for You in drawing souls to Yourself. Oh dear Lord, I want more than anything in life for souls to know You, love You, trust You, and desire You! How happy they could be in knowing You and loving You and feeling Your wonderful love as I do! If I can participate in Your saving work with my writing, I thank You from the depths of my being.

Upon saying these words to me which I have written above, the messenger led me up the path towards the Statue of Our Blessed Mother – “Our Lady of the Life Within.” As we reached the top of the walk he said, “You cannot even imagine what the Lord will do with what you write.” He told me that I must simply be obedient and begin to write as the Lord has commanded me and that Jesus would make it “spread abroad.” The messenger then excused himself leaving me standing under a big shady tree on the lawn to the left of the walking path while he went up further to go before the huge statue of Our Blessed Mother. It was evident to me that he was in prayer speaking with Her.

He joined me after a little while and said, “I am sorry for being so long”.
As we continued walking down the path towards the Sanctuary situated at the bottom of the hill he spoke to me some more about the “things to come” in my spiritual journey, personal life and the writing apostolate. The messenger warned me of some hard trials that were coming and reassured me that I would receive a “great grace” from the Lord. The messenger’s prophesies so far have been accurate,
although not all have yet been fulfilled.
(End of diary excerpts)

The heavy crosses came immediately after Malachi forewarned me and so did the great graces he told me the Lord would provide me. One of the very painful trials warned of by Malachi caused our family to move suddenly to Israel that year. But just as Malachi told me, if I would be obedient and simply begin to write, the Lord would do the rest and Jesus would “make it go abroad.”

I began writing immediately after I encountered Malachi. This consisted of my keeping a personal journal of the conversations Jesus and I had when I went before Him in the Blessed Sacrament. I put the typed pages into a binder and kept them private. I did this for several months and the binder became full. Our family moved to Israel.

Then one day, through the Lord’s arrangement, I met Marianne in Jerusalem. I began going to holy Mass with her on Sundays at a monastery outside of Jerusalem called Latrun. I drove the hour from my town on the coast to her inland village – a kibbutz – where she had been living for more than 33 years having emigrated from Holland when she was a teenager. She had experienced her profound conversion to Our Lord Jesus Christ in Israel some years before. You can read her testimony in this Blog and Website under “Testimonials.” She too has encountered her own guardian angel, Omriel, whom the Lord sent to visit her at her little cottage in the kibbutz to draw her back to Himself.

After Mass we would drive towards Jerusalem and have lunch together at En Kerem, the place of the “Visitation” where Our Blessed Mother Mary proclaimed her “Magnificat” to God. One Sunday looking from the balcony of the restaurant where Marianne and I usually shared our lunch fellowship we gazed together at the golden domed roof of one of the beautiful churches in the village and inspired by the Holy Spirit in that moment, Marianne suggested that she could build a website to host the amazing accounts of what the Lord had done in my life. She told me that I should begin to write them down so the world could know of the Lord’s grace at work in just an ordinary soul who loves Him and is loved by Him. In this way souls who do not yet know Jesus as their Savior can come to know, love and trust in Him; and those souls who already have a relationship with Our Lord can be further encouraged in their faith in and walk with Him.

Indeed, in our brief new friendship, Marianne and I had shared with each other our own stories of how the Lord had been working in our individual lives. Yet, I would have never considered asking Marianne to make a website as a platform for my personal testimonies. When I heard her suggestion, I was overjoyed. Together, we were filled with the joy of the Holy Spirit as we both realized that this spontaneous offer from Marianne arose from the desire of Jesus’ Sacred Heart. The going forth of the witness to Jesus through this writing apostolate had been foretold by the mysterious “messenger” who came to me in 2007 before I even moved to Israel or could ever imagine that I would be living in the Holy Land or that I would have met Marianne!

In that precise moment we both had a sudden and delightful epiphany that Our Lord had brought all things together to make this amazing moment happen. He had ordered all things to come to this precise point where He would unite in a divinely- appointed partnership the unique, God-given talents of Marianne and Ann to inaugurate this writing apostolate for His glory. He had foretold it through his messenger, whom I now know is my angel Malachi, who also told me, “You cannot even imagine what the Lord will do with what you write.”

My angel Malachi has always been with me and he will always stay with me until I am safe in the arms of Jesus in Heaven.
Your guardian angel is always there with you too, guiding and protecting you. The Lord also has a mission just for you – a destiny – that He has purposed before all time just for you. If you love Him and trust Him He will reveal His plan for you and make you fruitful. You too “do not have all the time in the world to do it!”

The Servant of God


Recently the Church celebrated Good Shepherd Sunday. During Holy Mass Our Lord reminded me of an experience we shared in Jerusalem a few years ago. I’d like to tell it to you.

I was undergoing some hard trials in my life at that time. I had recently moved from my homeland to Israel and was still feeling very isolated, not yet having found a community in which to belong. I was suffering from a serious marriage crisis which caught me by surprise and precipitated our sudden move abroad. I had recently been diagnosed with breast cancer and also had to handle many months of surgery, radiation and chemotherapy. My two pre-teen daughters were distressed by all of these unexpected and traumatic life events taking place in our family and were depressed and anxious. I was dealing with their fears, working to repair our marriage through forgiveness and trying to find my place in a foreign country.

Jesus was with me through all of these challenges. His grace sustained me and upheld me.

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
(2 Corinthians 12:9)

One particular day, my heart was heavy and my spirit was drooping, and the Holy Spirit urged me to go up to Jerusalem to seek Jesus’ consolation. I drove the hour and a half to Jerusalem from the coastal town where I was living. I entered through the Damascus Gate into the Old City. The words from Psalm 122, “Our feet are standing within thy gates, O Jerusalem” came to my mind and my heart rose for a moment. I began walking the Via Dolorosa towards the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. I thought that I could find a priest at the church with whom I could talk. Passing through the Christian Quarter I turned a corner and an unknown man approached me. My heart that day had felt as heavy as lead. The man smiled at me and invited me to step into his store.

My first thought was that he was going to try to pressure me to buy something as do most of the shopkeepers in the Old City when tourists pass by their stores. However, his kind smile and gentle manner disarmed me and without thinking any further I followed him inside. He led me to the very back of the store and invited me to sit down on a comfortable couch. I sat and looked around. The man’s shop was filled with fine oriental rugs and beautiful antiques, old copper coffee pots, brass tables and wooden chairs and other lovely items. This was not some tacky souvenir shop, or one of the typical stores aimed at Christian tourists filled with the usual wooden carvings, ceramic plates, or religious trinkets like so many that are situated in that Quarter.

He sat down next to me. He didn’t say a word about his merchandise. I felt very relaxed in his presence. He began to speak with me as if we were old and dear friends. With sincerity he asked me about how I was feeling. When I shared with him my sadness he had compassion and began to encourage me. As he was talking to me I felt cared for and my soul felt peace.

After a little while he politely excused himself and asked me to wait for him there. He left the store. Not once did I think of leaving. I trusted him. I felt so at home. A short while later, he returned carrying a tray with a cup of tea and a sandwich and invited me to eat and drink. I was hungry so I ate what he had generously presented. Never once did he ask me to look at his merchandise. Never once did he try to sell me anything. His words were gracious and he expressed deep empathy.


After I had finished eating, he excused himself a second time and I sat there alone enjoying the hot tea. When he returned he was carrying something large that was wrapped up. He told me to close my eyes. I obeyed. As he laid the heavy item on my lap he told me that this was his most valuable possession. Then, he told me to open my eyes. I looked down and lying on my lap was a very old illustrated Bible! The pages were yellow and the leather binding was decaying. I was afraid for him to open it as it looked so fragile. He looked at me and to my amazement he said: “Now, I am going to bless you.” He opened the Bible to a page in the middle of the book and then instructed me to place my hand on top of the illustration. The beautiful illustration was of Jesus, the Good Shepherd. In this image He was holding two lambs, one on each arm. The kind man then proceeded to bless me.

This man did not know that this particular image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, holding not one, but, rather, two lambs in His arms was a special personal “sign” for me of Jesus’ presence. Jesus had given this to me during my journey of breast cancer. In my story, “The Good Shepherd,” which you can read in this website, I relate the amazing account of that other experience with Jesus.

After the man blessed me, he asked me whether I would like to know his name. I said I did. Then he told me. “My name is Obad (Obadiah) which means, “The Servant of God.” This was the second amazing encounter I had in Israel with a man named “Obad (Obadiah) ” or “Servant of God” through whom the Holy Spirit was working in a mysterious yet most evident way. (Please read my other account in this website: “The Cup of the Water of Paradise” about the other Obadiah I encountered in 2006. He put the question –answer to me in the exact same manner.)

Obad then lifted up the Bible from my lap and handed it to me and told me to take it home! Impossible! He was telling me to take his most treasured possession and just walk away with it. Joy had been steadily filling my being the entire time I was with this man. Now my heart was overflowing with joy. He bound up the beautiful Bible and handed it to me. Then he embraced me, and told me, “I love you, keep smiling.”

I left his store bewildered but filled with an exceeding joy. I clutched the precious book to my chest. My smile felt on my face as big and radiant as the full bow of the rainbow after the storm when the sun comes out in its full strength. Skipping all the way back through the Old City streets to the Damascus Gate my intense joy must have been as evident to the people I was passing as that of King David’s as he danced with abandon, full of the Holy Spirit, before the Ark of the Covenant as the Israelites were carrying it up to Jerusalem.

Two weeks later, I returned to Jerusalem and found my way back to the store to give Obad back his magnificent treasure. He was not there, so I left it safely with his brother. I was still smiling!

Sing a New Song Unto The Lord

It has been many months since I wrote an account in this Blog/Website. It was at Christmas-time. Now we are already approaching Holy Week and Easter, 2012! So much has occurred since then in my walk with Jesus that I have not been able to write even one story for you. Yet, today I feel that Jesus would like me to share what we have been doing together over these last few months!

The Lord Jesus surprised me immensely! In January, He gave me a wonderful gift – the GIFT of SONG. Perhaps you have been reading some of the song lyrics that I have posted in this Blog/Website? In time I would like to share with you the beautiful music that accompanies all these lyrics. I am learning how to write them on music score paper. I have finished nearly 20! It has been a labor of love! I hope that soon I may also be able to post some videos of the songs on this Blog. All the music and lyrics have been inspired by the Holy Spirit. This surely has been one of the riches experiences in my life. It is as if the floodgates of heaven were opened and the lyrics and music poured down into my heart from Jesus’ Sacred Heart.

Sing to the Lord a new song
Sing to the Lord all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, bless His name;
Announce His salvation day after day. (Psalm 96: 1-2)

Sing to Him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy (Psalm 33:3)

Since January when I unexpectedly received this “gift of song” from the Lord, the Holy Spirit has enlightened my understanding to see His hand at work over the years in order to prepare me to receive this marvelous gift. In December a lady from my church, Victoria, who I was just beginning to get to know, received a locution while adoring Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament at the hour of mercy, 3 pm on Friday 16th, 2011. She called me to tell me that she had received a specific message for me from Jesus and Mary. The message was very detailed. I was truly amazed as she shared it with me, as I had never received a message like this from anyone before. Amongst the many topics mentioned in this “personal prophesy” were these words, which she told me were spoken by Jesus to me: “Remember, I have given you a gift.” Victoria asked me what gift Jesus might be referring to. I told her that I did not know.

I wondered what Jesus meant by those words. Of course, I know that everything in life is a gift from God. We are all blessed from the moment of conception with an infinite number of gifts from our Lord: life itself, and all material and spiritual blessings. But it seemed that He was referring to something in particular. And at that moment, I did not know what He meant. Since then, however, the Lord clarified the mystery of His words by revealing to me that this gift of song had been put into my heart from the moment God had created my soul and it was now that He was drawing it out for His own glory and to share this joy with me!

This is why He said it in these words: “Remember, I have given you a gift”. When I was still in my teenage years, I loved music, studied the piano and played the works of the great classical composers. I sang in three different choirs, and taught myself to play the guitar, joined a high school rock band, formed my own little pop band called “Keys”, and tried to write some songs with a best friend who had a knack for lyrics. I loved music then and it filled me with happiness. In those early years of my life I was far from God and had no personal relationship with Jesus Christ. At that time, I did not appreciate that music comes from God – that the Lord is the Author of music. The seven perfect notes ( or the” octave” which includes the first of the next repeating seven notes) are like numbers. They originate in God and are infinite, and they are a creation and expression of His wisdom, knowledge, power, glory, majesty and beauty.

In those youthful days I enjoyed music but I gave no thought or praise to the One from who it comes. I went off to college at New York University and continued to be involved in music. I managed a local rock band in Manhattan for a year, endeavoring to make them known by booking them into local clubs in the city and seeking a recording opportunity for them. I took a course at NYU called “Music Business and Technology”. I spent all my college summers in London going to clubs and concerts and hanging out with musicians and English rock bands and people in the music industry there. I was immersed in this secular music world and had dreams of entering into the business of music. I never gave a thought to God during those years and like so many others I was living a sinful and self-centered life.

For reasons I cannot fully explain, during my last year of the university in New York , the entire direction of my life changed, and I drifted from the world of music and found myself pursuing another career direction. I went to London and began a study of international business, earning my MBA. I came home to America and found a job which put me on a course towards a career in international banking. My earlier dream of pursuing a future in music faded into history.

Three decades went by! During all those years I never played the piano, even though I had one in my house. When I moved with my family at age 48 from the USA to Israel in 2008 I simply gave away my old piano and all the books of music that had been stuffed away in cupboards for so many years. I assumed that I would never play again as I hadn’t touched the instrument since the late 1970’s! Even further from my thoughts was the idea that I would ever compose a new song! I had written a few simple songs in high school, but that was so long ago – it was, as they say, “in another life!”

During my time in Israel when I was going through some very hard trials, the Lord sent across my path a man who loved music. We became friends and shared our Catholic faith, the faith the Lord called me into in 2004. This fine gentleman, Edgar, also shared his immense joy of classical music with me. He told me stories, played his favorite CD’s for me, gave me private “recitals” in his home and invited me to some performances of the Israel Philharmonic and professional piano recitals in Haifa. Through my new friend’s passion for music the Lord moved in my heart to re-ignite the flame of the long dormant love of music in me. I began to listen to the great masters’ classical works on the radio and on CD’s. Jesus made use of music at that time to console my heart and give me bursts of joy which sustained me through some very difficult times I was undergoing in those first couple of years of living in Israel.

One day I was walking along the Mediterranean Sea in prayer. My heart was overflowing with gratitude to the Lord for the gift of music to the world which I had been recently enjoying thanks to Jesus bringing Edgar into my life in those otherwise dark days. In a moment of profound thanksgiving, I stooped down to the sand and picked up a shell. I began to write in the sand the names of all the composers I could think of whom the Lord had given the great gift of music and to which they each had responded by receiving the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and giving their entire lives to create and compose the music which God put into their hearts. Name after name was marked into the sand and I worshipped the Lord for His creating these human-beings, Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Handel, Chopin, the Beatles, and all the others throughout the centuries who through their music and songs became a blessing to mankind as they cooperated with the Spirit of God to make the music we enjoy.

About a year later, our family moved back to America. I bought a new piano. My daughter and I began to take lessons. I practiced all the classic masters’ works and regained my piano -playing “fluency” over a 6 month’s period. I also enjoyed hearing all the show tunes and contemporary songs my teenage daughter was playing. In January I was speaking to my piano instructor and mentioned that as a teenager I had a passion for music and even wrote a simple song or two but that somewhere along the way I had drifted into other things. I had lost my way from music at that time. However, years later I found my way back to God.

I mentioned to my teacher quite casually that I would love to write a song. He replied, “You need inspiration to write music.” I heard what he said but at that moment I did not fully grasp the truth of this statement. A few days later, the Lord “mysteriously and secretly” flooded my heart with inspiration and song after song began pouring out. This has been continuing for three months and my joy cannot be described. I am so grateful to Jesus. All the songs are from His Sacred heart to mine. He is the Author and He is the subject.

Lyrics to the “Eternal Song” (written by Ann from Jesus’ Sacred Heart!)

Angels lift up their praise to the Throne of God
Singing through endless days the Eternal Song

Angels with one voice sing to the Lord Most High
Saints bow down and bend their knee to join the heavenly throng.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Glory be to God.

There stands the Lamb of God, at the Father’s side.
Lord of all heaven and earth, Savior of Mankind.

Near Him the Virgin waits , her heart with love aflame.
To take His graces forth to children of His Name.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Glory be to God.

Sing too you holy souls, in fires pure as gold.
Your love is growing strong, soon Him you will be hold.

Come now O Spirit of God and fill our hearts with love.
That we who are still on earth may praise as those above.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Glory be to God.

The Still Small Voice

This past Sunday – the Forth Sunday of Advent – the Holy Spirit impressed deeply on my heart the wonderfully wise words spoken in the homily during the Mass. The priest exhorted us to quiet our souls within and our lives without in order to listen at all times to the “still small Voice” of the Lord as He desires to speak intimately to His children. During Advent the Church calls us into deep contemplation of the coming of Our Lord Jesus at Christmas as Emmanuel – “God with us” – the long-awaited Savior of Humanity – who appeared in the flesh in Bethlehem to save us from our sins and to keep watch with lively expectation for Christ’s promised Second Advent – when He will come in all His glory as King and Judge.  So often we are distracted by the all the buzz in and around us, and especially at the Christmas Season, that we miss hearing our Savior’s sweet utterance!

1 Kings 19:11-12

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the LORD. And, behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the LORD was not in the earthquake:

And after the earthquake a fire; but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.

In his sermon, the priest shared his own experience of a time recently when Hurricane Irene was battering the East Coast of America and he was outside attending to damaged tree branches as the storm was passing by. In the midst of the wind and rain he heard the still small Voice of the Lord speak to him to go to the bedside of a sick woman. Because his soul was in a continual state of quiet, even in the midst of the storm swirling around him, he could hear Jesus speaking to his heart. With childlike simplicity he obeyed and rushed to the home of the seriously ill woman who shortly after his arrival passed from this world into the next. In trust he administered the Last Rites and prayed to Jesus for her soul.  I imagined the inexpressible groaning of the Holy Spirit deep in the priest’s heart as he lifted an unspoken prayer for the passage of this “little child of God” to the Celestial Home of the Father and the Son:


O come, O come, Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel,

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free

Thine own from Satan’s tyranny;

From depths of hell Thy people save,

And give them victory o’er the grave.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death’s dark shadows put to flight!

O come, Thou Key of David, come,

And open wide our heavenly home;

Make safe the way that leads on high,

And close the path to misery.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of Might,

Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height

In ancient times didst give the law

In cloud, and majesty, and awe.

While listening intently to the holy priest’s account the Holy Spirit recalled to my mind a sublime experience when during my night prayer as I quieted my soul I heard the Lord’s still small Voice beckoning me to serve Him by ministering to one of His precious children whom He was also calling to Himself.

When I think of You on my bed, through the night watches,

I recall that You are my help, and in the shadow of Your wings I shout for joy,

My soul clings fast to You,

Your right hand upholds me.

(Psalm 63: 6-9)

In the fall of 2001 my beloved grandmother, whom we called Nana, then 96 years old, fell ill and entered the hospital. On Christmas Eve, my father received a call from her doctor urging him to come quickly to the hospital as Nana had deteriorated and become “unresponsive.”  Dad shared with our family that he was anxious about seeing her in such a condition and feared that he may not have another opportunity to speak with her and tell her how much he loved her. Dad prayed for Nana and for himself that the merciful Lord would strengthen him to face this painful experience. When he arrived and walked into Nana’s hospital room he was amazed! Nana awoke and was fully conscious, looking at him and recognizing her son. Jesus has answered the cry of my father’s heart and had blessed him to look into his mother’s open eyes and receive her loving gaze back upon him. He spoke what would become his final words of love to her while he was still certain that she could hear and understand him. She could not speak back to him as she was on breathing support but the love in her eyes for her precious son spoke all that was necessary to console his agonized heart.

On the night of Wednesday, December 26, the day after Christmas while I was reposed on my bed…

Lord my heart is not proud, my eyes are not haughty,

I do not busy myself with important matters,

With things too sublime for me.

Rather I have stilled and quieted my soul,

Hushed it like a weaned child.

Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap,

So is my soul within me… (Psalm 131)

…I heard the Lord speak to me telling me to go straight away in the morning to Nana. My dear Jesus made me sense that this would be the last time I would see my grandmother and speak to her while she was still on this earth. That night the caring and wise Master instructed me as to His Word that He desired for me to share with her. I telephoned my father and told him that I must go to see Nana first thing in the morning as the Lord was compelling me to do so. It was urgent! I must go to be at Nana’s side the next morning to share with her the Word of God that our Lord revealed to me for her.  Dad told me that he was very, very tired and he had just been with Nana on Christmas Eve.  He also explained that he already had plans to join his only brother, who was flying east from the West Coast to visit their mother together in the hospital on Friday. Could I not join them on Friday, he asked me, and thus he would have a day of needed rest on Thursday from the long drive from his town to the hospital. I answered him passionately, “No, I must go. I cannot delay even one day! If you are not able to meet me there, I must go alone.”My father graciously agreed to make the nearly two hour drive again the next morning and meet me at the hospital so that we would be together to see Nana.  In reflecting back, I believe our Lord must have desired that my father witness the events which would take place at the hospital that day.

On Thursday morning I began a two hour drive from my own town to the hospital where my grandmother lay. While driving I sang praises to the Lord as glorious Christmas music rang out in my car. I prayed to Jesus imploring His help to me to perceive His will concerning Nana as I felt in my deepest heart that this was a solemn mission I had been called to do.  As I was driving through a town called “Moselem Springs” I heard Jesus say to me: “Baptize her.” I was surprised and immediately I asked Him, “How do I do that?” I did not receive an answer from Him then. My mind began to turn over many thoughts as I pondered His mysterious command. I wondered how I could do it, and when I could do such a thing in a busy hospital, and what water should I use? Many other such questions arose in my mind and perplexed me. I also considered that I might not be bold enough to obey His command. Yet, Jesus had spoken this word to me, of this I was sure. My heart’s desire was to obey my Savior’s instructions without questioning, even though my mind was filled with wonderings about it.

I assumed that my grandmother had been properly baptized as an infant in a Protestant church. She had been a member most of her adult life of the Church of Christ in the town where she lived after her marriage. My father mentioned once she had given generously to the church. When I had gone to grandmother’s house as a child and teen-ager she had often taken me to church on Sundays. I even recall some hymns she told me she liked: Silent Night and Rock of Ages. But surely there was a reason the Lord wanted me to “baptize her” at that time*.

Nana had grown old and had become housebound. She had not been able to attend church for years. It appeared that her church had forgotten about her. She did not receive their visits or calls during her old age or illness. And as she was brought up in the Protestant tradition, there was no Sacrament of Holy Communion to bring to her. They did not come to administer healing prayers or Last Rites while she lay many weeks in the hospital.

About eight months before Nana fell ill, by inspiration of the Holy Spirit I arranged for the good pastor of the Pentecostal church which I had been attending (as I was not yet a Catholic Christian), to come with me to pray for Nana and encourage her in faith and trust of Jesus.

Pastor Ed was gracious to drive the long distance to my grandmother’s house to minister to her spiritual needs in the absence of her own church. On the way he surprised me as he stopped at a Catholic store and purchased a Catholic Communion “kit”. This was a box which contained some communion wafers (hosts) prepared according to the canon law requirements of the Catholic Church to be used by priests in cases of emergencies when they may need to administer Last Rites (Viaticum : “Bread for the journey”) to a dying person.  As the Lord’s ordained priests they have Christ’s Authority to consecrate the hosts and thereby bring the Risen Lord Jesus in the holy sacrament to the dying person —the Real Presence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist – the Body, Blood Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ – to enable their souls to enter into eternal life in Holy Communion with Our Lord.

Pastor Ed capably and lovingly ministered to my grandmother according to his Christian tradition, blessing her, praying for her and exhorting her in her faith and we shared the un-consecrated communion wafers as spiritual communion with Our Lord.

Jesus was going before us preparing Nana to bring her to Himself.

When I arrived at the hospital my father was already there and Nana’s elder-care aide, Lizette, was also present in the room. Nana was lying in the bed with closed eyes and she was unresponsive. The doctors told us that she had slipped into this unresponsive condition after Dad’s visit on Christmas Eve and had remained in that state ever since.

I approached my grandmother’s bedside and clasped her right hand and began to speak my words of love and affection into her right ear. The Holy Spirit then moved me to begin to speak for Him from His holy Word. Still holding her right hand, I opened my Bible to the Gospel of John and guided by the Spirit I began to read verses of scripture to her as He revealed them to me. As I turned a page I heard Him say: “Ask her.

Looking down I saw this verse of holy Scripture:

Jesus, told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in Me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?”

In awe I began to read the holy words out loud to Nana. And in obedience to the Lord I asked her on His behalf, “Do you believe this, Nana?”

To my amazement she made a responsive sound through her breathing tube, and her still hand which I was holding, having been limp the entire time I was speaking to her until up until that very moment suddenly moved and I felt my hand being gently pressed by hers. Nana was hearing Our Lord and with this weak but undeniable squeeze of her hand she was answering Him, “Yes, Lord, I believe You are the resurrection and the Life. Yes, Jesus, my Savior, I know who You are. Yes, Jesus, my Hope of Eternal Life, I love you. My Jesus I trust in You!”

Just then, the Lord made me understand that He wanted me at that moment to fulfill His command to “baptize her.”  With a sudden burst of joy, and not a second of hesitation, I looked up and saw in the room on the ledge by the window a white plastic cup which was filled with water and ice. I quickly went over to pick it up and poured the icy cold water out of it and filled it again with lukewarm water from the bathroom tap and returned to Nana’s side. I held her right hand again and speaking into her right ear I asked her, Nana, do you want to be baptized?”  Once again I felt a gentle squeeze of her hand against mine and understood that this she was responding “yes”.  Immediately I poured the water over her head in a small gentle trickle as the Holy Spirit gave me these words to speak:  “Nana, I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, for the forgiveness of your sins and for eternal life”.

With a heart full of gratitude and love for My God at what He had just accomplished and with immense joy and deep peace in my spirit I left my grandmother sensing that I would not see her  again until we would meet one day in Heaven.

The next day, Friday, December 28, 2001, I went with my family to New York City to see the Radio City Christmas Show which began at 3 pm. During the final fifteen minutes of the two hour performance there was a live Nativity Scene. Above the living scene of the Manger of Bethlehem was a large screen with the words of the famous Christian poem “One Solitary Life” which scrolled down electronically for everyone to read and ponder.

While sitting in the audience with my youngest daughter on my lap, I began praying from the depths of my heart to Jesus that He would send His Spirit to enlighten the thousands of people watching this wondrous scene with the splendor of His Truth:

The angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds and the glory of the Lord shown around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all people. For today in the City of David, a Savior has been born for you who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find and Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

(Luke 2: 9-12)

At five o’clock the show ended and also my private worship. My husband and I put our two daughters in their stroller and exited the auditorium into the streets of New York City. We walked about one block when my new cell phone rang. No one had been given my telephone number yet. I had brought in case we needed to make some calls. I answered the ring but no one spoke.  My husband then said, “Maybe it is your dad calling to tell you that Nana has died”. I responded, “Dad doesn’t have my number.”

Deep inside I heard the still small Voice of the Lord speaking to my heart telling me He had taken Nana to be with Him.

We returned to Pennsylvania about 10 pm that night, and as we were entering our house, our telephone was ringing. I answered. It was my father who was calling. He told me that Nana had passed away quietly with a peaceful expression on her face a short time after five o’clock that afternoon with both her sons – my father and uncle – at her bedside. Dad had not tried to contact me in New York City not wanting to disturb my family’s joy during our Christmas outing.

I am sure that it had been Heaven calling to tell us of Nana’s safe passage into Eternal Life in the glorious Kingdom of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

*Author’s Note: After entering into the Catholic faith in 2004 I reflected back on this mysterious command I received from our Lord to “baptize” my grandmother. While I cannot say that I know for certain why the Lord asked me to do this, since becoming a Catholic Christian I have learned the divine teachings of our holy Church.  We Catholics make regular renewals of our Baptismal Vows as we enter the church when we dip our fingers into the holy water and make the Sign of the Cross over ourselves. At other times we make acts of faith as we are sprinkled with holy water during the Mass. In those times of our “renewal of baptismal” vows we denounce Satan and all his deceptions and empty promises  and profess our belief and trust in Our Lord Jesus Christ anew and reaffirm our faith in His Holy Word and divine teaching of His Holy Church. Perhaps this is what the Lord effected for my grandmother to fully prepare her to bring Nana to Himself.

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