CHAPTER ELEVEN: Message From God and Mary

So much has happened it's hard to write it all down. I see so much in me that I want the Lord to work on and purify.  I have struggled with wanting to "do" things for Jesus as he gently reminded me through his guidance through Fr S that I am to focus on "being" and not "doing".  Only when we can BE...then we DO with the right attitude.  I am so grateful that I am learning.  I echo St Therese -- how wonderful that I see one more sin I can surrender to God's grace!

I have been wrestling about my beliefs regarding the Bible. I  have basically thought it's just a book, like Guideposts or other devotional literature.  It's good to read, teaches you morals and lessons about God, can be a way to draw closer to God but is not more "inspired" than the phone book.  I wrestle hard with this and try to learn more about the Catholic Church's teachings on this but I just can't "let go" and "believe".  I discarded it as sacred after too many Bible classes in seminary.  The more you "learn" the harder it is to set that aside and enter into a new belief with faith.  It's like I'm being asked to "empty my head" and that seems irresponsible to this "brainiac". 

Since I am starting the 33 day consecration to Mary tomorrow I wanted to get rid of this feeling of "rebellion" and even if I couldn't resolve my disbelief, at least confess my bad attitude and open myself to hearing God's direction in this regard.  So I went into Confession and Fr S talked about being told "lies" and I never thought of that.  I always figured that I was taught the "truth" and the Church was manipulating things to get people to do what they want.  I never looked that I may have been handed information designed to cause doubt and confusion.  I felt better after Confession and went and sat down in Adoration.

All of a sudden I heard, "Write" as plain as day.  I didn't bring my journal so I was going crazy finding paper and words were flowing like an ocean into my head.  I could see them.  I poured them onto the back of two sheets of paper and one was even a message from the Blessed Mother. I was stunned and Adoration ended and I told Fr S, "I got my answer.  Now I have to go home and read it."  Here is what I was given, word-for-word: 

"Believe in me and believe in my Word. Do not be tempted into thinking you can discard one teaching of my Church without quickly falling into sin.  This is a trap!  Do not do this my daughter.  Forget what men have told you in the past about my Word.  Were any of you there when it was written?  Did you know I wanted the words that are there exactly as they are today?  Men may have lied, selected writings for selfish ends, but I redeemed their intentions to bring about my will.  These are my words you need to believe come directly from me.  Just because sinful man may have written them down and now ignore them means nothing in my plan because all that I wanted written is there for you.  I overcome their motives with my redeeming good.  I preordained my word before the world was made and protected those sacred words by my direction.  So take comfort my daughter and do not be afraid to trust in my word.  I will meet you in its pages and relieve you of your doubts.  Do not fear surrender and obedience.  Walk with my Mother for this 33 days and she will show you the beauty of total obedience to my will and my true Church.  Obedience is better to me than sacrifice and your longing to be closer to me pleases me greatly.  You have no idea how much I delight in your tender heart and brilliant mind for I made you this way for my glory.  You are not a mistake as your earthly parents told you.  When Abraham tried to count the stars to see the number of his children I lit a star that night for you.  I thought of you then and I am with you now.  I named you _____ which means "Victorious One" to inspire you to be victorious and heal.  Now take my hand, sweet daughter, and know you are loved forever." 

I then received this beautiful message from the Blessed Mother on the eve of my starting my 33 day consecration to her.

"My sweet little girl.  I have loved you all of your life.  I visited your dreams as a little girl.  I am so happy you are drawing nearer to me.  Do not despair I am your true Mother and I want you and love you.  Don't give up. I freed you from your addiction and I am here.  I will never reject you as I see your infinite worth.  Come closer and I will give you three gifts over the next 33 days as direct proof of my answer to your prayers to me."

She gave the days they would occur but I'm not to publish them and she said that someone would tell me what they were and that I would sense that it comes from Her.  I am so honored and humbled at the way the Lord answers my prayers and longings to know the truth.  For the truth is what sets us free. 

Tonight during Mass I saw the reflection of Jesus on the crucifix reflected on the host and it took my breath away.  At that moment Fr S started breaking it and it was Jesus being broken in such a powerful way I was stunned.  In thinking about this I received this short message:

"I allowed you to see my reflection in the host because I want to be reflected by you in this same way."

 

Thank you Jesus and Blessed Mother. I am so excited about tomorrow and all this 33 days will bring me.  Pray for me as I enter this sacred journey.  

CHAPTER TEN--No More Self Punishment

The last few days have been hell. I have been sick with my OCD...it was getting worse.  I had wrestled about this addiction and cutting myself off from receiving Communion.  A spiritual director and my priest had told me to really search my own heart on this issue and I'd come to terms with going to first available confession and not cutting myself off Communion for this particular issue.  Well Satan made sure I had a  horrible night and I felt like "Well this was really bad so I shouldn't take Communion" and I was right back into being obsessed about the addiction and Confession again.  I just completely forgot how much freedom, grace, love, and total peace I felt with what I knew God wanted me to do.  I was convinced I was in control--the sign of a true addict.  The only victory you can have over an addiction is when you surrender and concede defeat.  Then God can work and miracles happen.

Today I sobbed my eyes out, hit rock bottom and called my friend.  After much discussion I am at total peace.  I know that if I deliberately  sin I cannot take communion before going to Confession.  But when your mental illness is clouding your judgement sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to realize you are making a mistake about what is full consent and free will and what is addiction and sickness from your mind and it's obsessions.  I know now what God wants me to do and I am so grateful that He has let me suffer (sounds weird doesn't it) so that I could finally learn what I needed to learn.  It's no coincidence that Jonah was the readings this week--I, like Jonah, had to lay in the "belly of the fish" to finally have a resurrection experience.  I had to realize that this has to die so that I can live.  Just like Jonah was going in the opposite direction that God wanted him to go, I was also going the wrong way.  Instead of experience grace I was experiencing total self condemnation.  I had to change my direction and go God's way.  Otherwise the end result for me would be insanity and suicide. 

What was equally amazing was that neither priest was available for a Confession....that was no coincidence.  I needed to sit in this in order to finally do what I needed to do a long time ago--turn to God and not everyone else....and not let the scrupulosity run my life any longer.  It was making me start to think about suicide..not that I would have necessarily done it but it was in my mind today.  Fr Steve had told me a long time ago that God gives special graces to those of us who are mentally ill because we have so much we are contending with and now I understand what he meant.  It's not a blanket license by any means, it's God embracing me in my sicknesses and challenging me to NOT cut myself off from receiving the very thing I needed most...Jesus in the sacrament so that I can be set free by Him from this addiction and obsessive compulsive thinking.

When I try to use the "no communion for me" approach in this particular problem, I feel ostracized, rejected, cut off, and desperate.  I become obsessed to the point where I can't pray, participate in mass, or even be with others that I care about.  I feel unworthy, I hate myself, and I want to die.  I feel I deserve to go to hell and then my self hatred and obsession with Confession and Communion spirals downward smaller and smaller until there's nothing left but to finish yourself off and get it over with...scary process and I had to endure it alone to see where it would take me. 

My friend said that Satan loves it that I don't receive Communion when I engage in my addiction and, he makes sure I get worse and worse with the addiction so I take Communion less and less.  My friend is convinced that once I stop cutting myself off from Jesus the behavior will probably dissipate and I will experience eventual total healing.  It's a bad deal--the more I cut myself off, the worse the behavior gets...this is proof it is indeed an addiction and part of my mental illness and not a deliberate act of free will.  I am handicapped in this way and much as I hate to admit it I have to say it, I am not in control of this.  So I have to find a source of power that can solve my problem.  It's not 100 Confessions a week, it's Jesus in the sacrament.  Confession should not become an object of obsession but a sacrament of being reconciled to God when we truly do things we know are wrong.  I have always been told I am unwanted, unloved, and that no one really cares about me at all.  I was even told that "people will pretend they like you but really they don't."  When I get into this negative thinking pattern I feel isolated so I perceive everyone not "fixing" me as a rejection.  This feeds into the negative thinking about myself and makes me sicker.  Wow!  What a lot to learn in 3 days!

So...If I fall into my addiction, I will recognize it, go the next scheduled confession and in the meantime, repent and continue to take Communion. 

If you are suffering with an addiction be careful about falling into this trap.  The biggest barrier to getting over an addiction is thinking you are in control and that you can start and stop it when you want to...you can't.  This keeps you sick and you just get worse and worse.  Satan will make sure you will too...so that you never take Communion and eventually run away from the Church because of shame, guilt, and agony and the feeling that you are misunderstood and evil.  So as long as you think you are sinning and in control of that...you will never get over your addiction.  Once you realize you are powerless over it and only God alone can save you, then the answer becomes obvious. Surrender to God is the path to victory over any addiction!

Satan is so conniving that he will even attempt to use Confession against me to convince me I am really in control of this stuff so that I hate myself more and more and separate myself from the Lord more and more.  This was a brilliant maneuver but guess what?  I'm onto it now...and I'm free!  I am going to Confession tomorrow because the addiction IS a sin but I'm not cutting myself off anymore for this issue. If I commit a deliberate sin then I would have to not receive Communion until after Confession but with this sickness, I know what needs to be done and thankfully I know the power that can break it.  It's not me, I cannot do this, I am unable to free myself.  But God can free me and I will let Him.  I deserve to be loved and freed by Him...as much as anyone else...no more...no less.

I can't.  God can.  So I am going to let Him.  I am all yours God, and you can have this addiction, I am done with it.  I should thank the priests for not being available this week, that would really blow their minds!

Praise God who gives us the victory in Christ Jesus!

CHAPTER NINE--Led to the Faith by my Dead Son

Today was the women's prayer breakfast, and was it ever fantastic!  I truly enjoyed everything and my desire to make a total consecration to Mary was confirmed and cemented today.  I had a chance to tell my story about coming into the Catholic faith to one of the sisters today and she was moved.  It was a very special moment to be able to share how my precious son brought me into the Catholic faith.

His death wasn't just a total shock, it was very horrific.  His head was shattered when he was thrown from the tumbling car and basically cracked open.  The pressure in his brain was so massive that his brain swelling had crushed the lower cradle where his brain would sit at the base of his skull.  He had brain tissue hanging out of both nostrils and was on a ventilator.  It was a rotten way for a loving, beautiful, intelligent, funny teenager to die at 16.  When they shut off the ventilator (after determining his brain was destroyed and he was clinically brain dead) I watched his heartbeat slowly fade away.  I thought that would be the last time we would ever interact but little did I know.

One week to the day after his accident I had a dream.  He was upset and had come to me in a dream and told me that he needed "masses said for him".  I had no idea what a "mass" was but I was stunned.  We weren't Catholic, what could this mean?  As I was relating this story to his brother Tony the stereo Tony had setting in the living room started playing what I now know was a Latin Mass.  It was very eerie as it was the EXACT moment of my son's accident one week later.  So I asked Tony to please shut off the stereo as it was creepy sounding.  He went over and I started talking to some of my deceased sons friends and Tony kept calling out to me, "Mom, Mom."  Getting frustrated I said, "WHAT?!  Why haven't you shut that annoying stuff off?" and he looked at me holding up the cords and speaker wires, "Mom it's not plugged in."  Not only was it not plugged in the speakers weren't attached to it at all!   All of my son's friends were upset and took off out of the house in terror.  My son looked at me and asked, "Mom are you scared?" and I said I wasn't and asked him if he was scared.  He said no he wasn't scared at all.  Poor Tony, my middle son had lost both his best friend (the driver) and his brother in that horrible rollover accident.

There were other things that happened that showed us Johnny was around but they aren't pertinent to my story so I won't get into them.  Johnny came two more times asking for masses to be said and said, "I need them to get where I need to go".  He was upset and told me, "Mom I know I died in that accident and I don't want to be dead."  He then started sobbing and I held him and then he turned into a vapor and smoke and I woke up sobbing.  I was distraught and became mentally unglued.  I started thinking that I needed to kill myself in order to cross over and help him.  I did mention this to friends who were alarmed and told me that everything would be OK, to hang on and not give up.  I railed at God who was my son's murderer in my mind.  He KILLED my son and for no good reason.  Nothing that ever would or could come out of his death would be worthwhile because the price would have been too high for me to ever see any value in it.  It culminated in my sitting alongside the freeway and then walking along the edge right at mile marker 81 on northbound US 23 trying to get up enough nerve to step in front of a truck.  The only thing that kept me from doing it was that I would forever ruin that innocent truck driver's life.  He would be destroyed and if my body was thrown onto another car, imagine what they would endure?  No I could not do that so there was only one option.  I would pray each and every morning for God to end my life and while I was waiting for that answer to my prayer I would have tons of masses said for my son Johnny.  Through doing that I saw and ad for RCIA and the rest is "history".  My dead son brought me to the faith.  I still wrestle about my son's death but I know God grieved as much as I did, He longed to comfort me but I wasn't having it for a long time.  I stopped praying for God to end my life the day I became a Catholic.  In a sense He granted my prayer because I died to my old life and became reborn to a faith that no matter what I did, would never let me go.

Just around the time of the one year anniversary of Johnny's death I had another dream.  Johnny was all white and glowing, almost clear...and so happy.  He was beaming and smiling.  He said, "They told me it's time to go but I can't come and see you anymore.  I don't want to leave you if you aren't going to be OK"  I told him that it was OK for him to go that, in fact, I could NEVER be OK if I knew he wasn't where he was always meant to be.  I told him I would think of him each and every day and my love would endure forever.  He said that whenever I hear the word "star" in a song, he is thinking of me at that moment.  He kissed and hugged me and said, "I love you mom.  I will love you forever.  You will always be my mom."  And then he was gone and I felt a release, like a heavy weight that broke lose and floated upward.  I have never dreamed of him that way since.  I guess you can say that this flies in the face of what people are taught about death.  You can call me crazy, you can say I made it up but I have no reason to make it up.  I'm not cashing in on my experience, on the contrary, no money in the world could have given me what those dreams gave me.

Seeing the sisters today brought back my intense desire to be a nun.  I have wanted to be a sister since I was a little girl.  I used to pray every night that God would make me a Catholic so I could become a nun and go to heaven.  Sadly my student loan debts wouldn't permit me to become a sister and that is a desire that will never be fulfilled in me.  I am sad but searching.  What is God's will for me?  What am I supposed to do for Him with the rest of my life?  I have no idea.  I hope that someday I can find fulfillment in serving God full-time. That is my heartfelt desire and I am open to whatever He wants for me.

Praise be to God!

CHAPTER EIGHT: Blessings Times Three

After getting my attitude back in order I experienced something miraculous!  The first miracle was when I stopped outside work in the parking lot and prayed.  I, like many employees, often don't stop to thank God for my job.  I thanked Him for my job and asked for His grace to focus, make productive use of my time, and that His will be done in all I do for these special people I serve.  I prayed that all my co-workers will be inspired to do their best and be blessed today.  Feeling totally amazing and filled with love I walked inside.

HR called me at 11 am to report that they caught an error.  I had mistakenly not received my merit raise all the way back to September 2010.  They are closing out this fiscal year this month so they caught it.  She told me it would be the amount I needed to close another chapter in my life. 

I have been married twice.  The first time I was 18 and my husband was Catholic.  I wasn't anything at that time and we decided to just get married in a little church up north that was United Methodist.  I later joined that denomination for many years and served in ministry with them.  We divorced after 15 years and it was a very amicable parting after years of struggle and suffering.  We both paid a heavy price.  Our sons were teenagers and we lived near each other so the boys could see each other and visit and all went well.  He remarried a couple years later.

I met my second husband at a single's dance a year after my divorce.  This was all before I was Catholic so anullment and such wasn't something I considered.  When we got together I started RCIA.  During that time they told me I'd need to get my first marriage annulled.  I was checking into that when I became Catholic.  When I stomped off two years later I still had not done anything about it.  My second husband and I were married in 2005 by someone who was ordained and involved in his own ministry, not affiliated with any church.  So basically I was Catholic and did not marry in the Catholic Church.  My ex-husband and his wife attended our wedding and we all got along very well. 

Sadly just a couple of years ago my first husband died very suddenly at the age of 50 from a massive heart attack.  It was devastating to my sons and all of us who knew him.  He was a fisherman, hunter, outdoorsman, scuba diver, and a gregarious, outgoing man who truly LOVED life.  It was a loss I still feel and so does everyone else who knew and cared about him.  He was cremated and buried in the same grave as my son who had died in 1996 and they rest together.  His sons set his urn into it's resting place and I appreciated his widow allowing that.  It meant a lot to them. 

So when I returned to the church after having separated from my current husband there was nothing to prohibit my being reconciled to the faith and receiving the sacraments.  We were living apart.  He is in Flint and I am in Davison.  I wanted to go forward with a divorce and end the last of the chaos I had created when I was out of the church and God's will for my life.  I just didn't have a way to do it.  So on this date something amazing happened that let me know it's time to move on.  I received the money I needed to file the paperwork. I feel relieved but it's a mixed feeling.  It seems un-Catholic to be filing for divorce but I am just grateful that God made a way where their appeared to be no way.  God has shown me at least three times that this is His will in this difficult situation and that I need to clear away the wreckage of the past and move in a new positive direction...doing things HIS way and not my way. 

I am humbled, amazed, and appreciative of the way God works in my life and the things He does for me.

CHAPTER SEVEN-- Riding Rollercoasters

Today I've been contemplating all sorts of things.  I live with a mood disorder and I have been unable to find any medication that either doesn't make me very sick or works in any way.  I keep hoping science will catch up with me. 

In the meantime, I am very much able to see when I'm not doing well or off kilter and tend to just spend that time alone rather than risk offending or alienating anyone.  The only problem for me is that I end up being totally alone and in my moments of the darkest nights of my soul, I have no one to hold me, no one to reassure me that this too shall pass, and no one to just tell me that they love me.  It's really difficult but I try to keep moving forward trusting that God will send me what I need if I continue to trust in His grace and His love.  I know that the Blessed Mother is always there and Jesus is there and that I've experienced tremendous healing already.  I am grateful for that...more than I can put into words on this blog.  I know that this is probably my cross I have to bear but sometimes it just gets me "down".  I get tired, it's difficult to keep fighting but I know that eventually my doc will find something that will work, or...maybe not.  I am not angry, depressed or uspet, just accepting that this is the way things have to be for now.

I know all the tell tale signs when people start "figuring out" I have a mood disorder.  They suddenly look at me like they owe me money; ducking, avoiding me, rushing off, not interested in talking at all, lest they get "roped in" and they rush off.  I have experienced this a lot and, again, I know their reasons but it HURTS SO BAD when it's someone I truly care about or respect or trust.  I feel so misunderstood.  I think sometimes people think I'm "crazy" and they avoid me once their figure out I have my moderate mood swings.  I assure you I have a borderline genius IQ, I am FAR from crazy.  My intellect, in fact, helps me cope by gently guiding me when I need to go home or reach out. 

PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, and OCD are the names of my cross.  Sooner or later I go up or down and can't control the ride I'm on.  Like a carnival ride, I'm tossed around and just have to hang on and wait for the ride to be over.  I'm never psychotic or hallucinating or dangerous, just very moody.  Either manic and chattering and emailing like a wild woman or depressed and bummed out and crying.  When the stable periods come I fully enter into socializing with others and reach out.  I keep hoping that someone won't be afraid, but in this day and age when people who lose their mind and blow away a whole roomful of people I can see why people are hesitant. 

People don't want to invest, it's too painful if they can't "help" and in some ways, they can't.  They are afraid, they don't know what to say and they would rather not deal with it.  I'm with you!  I'd rather not deal with it either.  I have to ride it out but I have enough intellect to know the signs and I usually try not to burden people too much.  I set limits, asking for only a one hour time slot, or limit myself to one email on a topic.  It's working well most of the time but it's a sad life because I watch people that I could have developed a very positive relationship pull away and then I'm left with a void.  I told my one friend about it and the response warmed my heart, "I've seen you at your worst and your best.  I'm not afraid and if people could see how truly wonderful you are they would realize we all have our issues/problems/struggles and you offer a million times more than you could ever know. You ROCK!"  What an amazing thing to hear on a day when I see someone I really felt I needed just about knocking into walls to avoid me.  I went home after I saw that and cried.  I cried for how scared they must be and how much fear/annoyance/exasperation I must have instilled in them to act that way.  I truly do not mean to at all and that's the pain of it all.  I sincerely prayed for them asking God to shower them with blessings and I guess I have to make some big decisions...but not today, not when I'm on a downswing.

I can't take SSRI's which includes a whole huge family of antidepressants because they push me into a flow blown manic episode so those are off limits.  My psychiatrist tried all sorts of mood stabilizers all to no avail. They either don't work at all or they make me a zombie, even with a low dose.  I have no emotions at all.  That's unacceptable.  I want to feel, just not lousy. 

I can say coming back to God and His Church has helped so much in so many ways.  I am on a daily schedule.  I like my orderly routine with my regular church attendance and work.  I am going to bed earlier and lack of sleep really messes up my moods.   I laid off most alcohol, and that helps too.  So coming to God and surrendering my life, experiencing my dramatic healing and liberation from my addiction has had massive spiritual benefits.  It has also had psychological ones as well.   I have a sense of belonging for the most part.  I have been embraced and welcomed so heartily and I appreciate the individual gifts each one of my church family members brings to my life.  God bless every single one of them.  I just wish when I see people pulling back from me I could convince myself it is maybe just a bad mood or just them and not me.  I can laugh, believe it or not because they will often think I don't notice then crashing into walls and tripping to avoid me.  Newsflash: I notice. 

This downswing is manageable right now.  It's not severe as some but I'm in a diner that is playing sad music and it's unbelievable how much music influences my moods.  I am feeling sad all right, but it's not enough that I need to stay alone to avoid being rejected.  Maybe that's good and maybe it's not.  But I consider the feelings of others too.  I guess I got a lot of growing to do yet.  I'm not sure if my "coping" is the right thing to do.  I often feel "punished" when I have to stay home but it keeps me out of trouble and I can take a bath, watch TV, read Facebook, and relax with prayer and my Bible.  I try to be caring and nurturing not punishing but it's so lonely.  I call it my "time of exile". 

I am glad for prayer and the presence of God and the Blessed Mother...they help me get through it all.  I know you will understand when I say this, sometimes you just want some physical arms around you.  A nice warm hug. I get the feeling that some people think if they do that I will turn into  codependent crazy woman.  I watch them hug others, but I'm excluded.  I have feelings and needs too.  Oh well, help me Blessed Mother and lead me on the path to your Son.  I know He will understand and care and won't push me away.  I want to know that when I hurt someone is there for me saying, "Let me wipe those tears away and hug you. It's all going to be OK.  I care."  I wonder if I advertised that on Craig's List if I would get any takers.  LOL...don't worry I know better than THAT!  It's just hard for me to ask what I need because many people can't deliver.  And that's not their fault or mine, they just can't.  I accept that too today. 

I am very reflective.  I am not good at confronting people and asking them if they are frightened or upset with me.  It would be refreshing to open up one time and find acceptance.  All I ever see is the look of relief when I leave.  They think I don't see that expression on their faces.  Newsflash: I notice. 

For now I'm rounding another curve and plunging down another hill on the rollercoaster ride of my moods.  I'm near tears and I need to distract myself for a couple hours. 

So here I am feeling hollow again.  Another dip in the rollercoaster as it runs through a dark underground tunnel.  Thank you Jesus you promised me you would never leave me.  Please hold my hand while I'm in this dark place.  I love you Lord.  You made me this way so I will bear my cross with grace.  Just remind me always keep my eyes on you. You are my hope.  I trust in you.

CHAPTER SIX--Pondering the Word in Our Hearts

I was given a handout when I first came back to the church by Fr S on "praying the Gospel" and it has had very powerful results for me.  You select a Gospel story.  For me, I chose the story about Peter.  He had betrayed Jesus three times and Jesus had died (and rose) and he had went back to fishing.  Jesus walks along the shore and calls him back to His service.  The one who had proclaimed, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!" denied he even knew Jesus three times and then he and Jesus looked at each other as Jesus was being taken away.  Jesus had predicted this, Peter knew that Jesus knew.  He wept bitterly...and now he's fishing again.  That seemed like the perfect story for me.  I had a taste of His goodness and then I basically denied Him by running after all sorts of other things and I was too ashamed to even come back to him.  I put myself in the story.  Jesus is coming to call me back to Him.  I include these meditations here so you can see the power in praying this way.  I hope you find it helpful in your own journey:

Meditations

Gospel Story Used-- Jesus appears to Peter after Peter's betrayal, Jesus' death and resurrection and calls him back to service.  He asks Peter if Peter still loves him.

1st Meditation

Me standing on a beach, it is dawn and the sun is dancing on the waves.  No one is there but me. There is a soft breeze blowing and there are big puffy clouds in the sky.  Then off in the distance I see Jesus but He's very far away. 

I focus on how I feel that He has come to call me back to Him after I have betrayed Him. 

2nd Meditation

I'm on the beach and it is dawn.  Jesus calls to me, "Come closer."  I respond that He is too far away for me to get to Him.  He says, "Just take one step toward me."  I do and instantly He is standing in front of me. 

I focus on the loving expression He has for me and how when I take just one step toward Him, He runs to me.

 

3rd Meditation

We are both on the beach but there is more distance between us and I'm very anxious.  Jesus asks me why I keep moving away from Him. I tell him that I am struggling with a sin that makes me feel unworthy to be close to Him.  He tells me to move closer and I do.  He tells me that nothing will separate me from His love.  We walk along the beach and He asks me to bring Him my broken life in whatever form I choose when I come back next time.  I agree that I will do that. 

I focus on what would be the ideal representation of my broken life.

4th Meditation

I am standing before Jesus with a broken porcelain doll that represents my life.  It is in pieces in the lid of a cardboard box.  It is cracked, broken, and looks totally shattered.  Jesus is standing in front of me with a present.  It looks like a traditional square box wrapped in purple gift wrap with a silver bow on top.  The lid can be lifted off.  He sets down His present and asks me about my doll.  He says how sorry He is that it is so broken but that He can give me a new doll. 

 

I sit on the sand with glue and begin trying to glue the pieces back together.  He asks me what I am doing and I tell Him that I just want to at least get the broken pieces into a coherent whole before I give it to Him as it's a "mess".  He tells me that He gave me the doll and He knows what it should be and it's all right...He wants me to just give it to Him the way it is and stop trying to "fix it".  I start crying as I'm working determined to glue it but the pieces just keep falling into the box lid and sticking to my fingers and making an even bigger mess than I had to begin with.  I cannot get them back together.  In the box lid I notice tape, string and other things that I have used over time to try to fix the "doll".  I tell Jesus that I am so ashamed.  I have tried so desperately to make my "doll" something He would be proud of but now it's all covered in glue and it's shattered and I can't fix it.  I am crying and Jesus sits in front of me in the sand and asks me to just give him the doll and He will give me a brand new one.  I look at Him and His eyes are filled with compassion and sadness at the pain I am in over my broken doll. 

I tell him that I appreciate that but maybe it would be best if He just fixed this one and left all the cracks in it as I will just ruin a new doll anyway.  That way when I botch it all up, it will just be this old cruddy doll and not a new one.  I tell him I do not deserve a new doll.  I did not care for this one properly.  He gently says to me, "Lorrie I made this doll.  I understand that all you have experienced has left it broken.  Only I, the one who made it, can fix it and make it new.  I WANT to give you a new doll.  Please surrender the doll to me and let me have it."  He then stands and holds out his hands waiting for me to surrender the doll.  I can see the sunlight shining behind his hair.  The wind is gently blowing and I am crying clutching the broken doll in it's box lid in my arms. "I know it's a piece of trash but it's all I have" I lament.  Jesus says to me, "Lorrie you are NOT a piece of trash.  Give your broken heart and life to me..I love you so much that I was willing to give everything for you.  I died on the cross so that you can live forever with me.  I wanted you that much.  Now you must give everything to me.  Trust me Lorrie, you must do this so you can learn that you can rely on me."  I lay the doll at His feet and sobbing I realize that it is beyond my repair.  I surrender the doll to Him. 

He waves His hands over the doll and the whole thing disappears and becomes a beautiful ball of gold light, it's as if it is now an orb of golden light that is rising into the air and Jesus removes the lid of the present He was carrying and the golden orb goes into the box.  He then puts the lid back on it.  He offers me the present/gift but I cannot receive it. 

I focus on what it means to give everything I am and ever will be to Jesus and how it feels to look at my whole life and see only a broken mess.

 

5th Meditation

Jesus and I are having a picnic on the beach and talking.  The present/gift is there and it's bright and shiny in bright purple wrapping paper with a silver bow on it.  After we eat, we stand, and the picnic vanishes.  He is then holding the box and insists I have it.  I fearfully accept the box.  He then says to me very slowly and deliberately, 

"When you are ready you may open the box."  

I ask Him what this means, is He going to tell me when I can open the box?  How will I know when I can open the box?  What if it's empty or has something awful inside?  What is in the box?  He just repeats what He said a 2nd time and smiles at me.  I tell him I do not know what to do...can He at least tell me what's in the box?  He repeats the same thing yet a 3rd time. 

I focus on my fear of not knowing when to open the box or what the box even represents.

 

6th Meditation

Jesus and I are on the beach and he says to me, "You will now know what the box represents.  My Mother has a gift for you."  I turn and she is there, the Blessed Mother and She hands me a bundle wrapped in purple cloth.  She says to me, "Because you are so devoted to me I want you to have this gift."  I receive it from her and I untie the thread and open it.  Inside is a brand new doll.  It is an exact replica of me.  I look at them both and Jesus picks up the present he had given to me.  I open it and the doll goes inside the box.  I then cautiously look inside it.  Inside the box is my rosary and a crucifix.  A symbolic representation of each of them now joining me in the box.  Jesus tells me my heart will no longer be empty for they will reside there.  Jesus then says, "Your heart is my most precious gift.  This box is your heart.  I have placed my Mother and myself in your heart forever.  I have made you a new heart.  From now on you will see everyone the way I see them.  You will see their brokenness, their pain and their suffering."  

Jesus puts the lid on the box and then standing in front of me He reaches out toward me with the box.  The box suddenly goes inside of me and I feel a sharp pain and then a feeling of compassion and love washes over me and fills me.  I feel the golden light that was the old doll pouring from me and I see it stretching out into the whole world.  Jesus says to me, "You must pour out yourself for me to all the world.  Be my light in their darkness. Love them with my heart and see them with new eyes."

I focus on what my life will be like with Jesus and the Blessed Mother residing in my newly created heart.

7th Meditation

I am on the beach with Jesus.  I tell him that today when I went to work a client came in that has always been a "pain" to me, always demanding and needing attention and draining my time.  But today I saw him, his broken heart.  He was crying and told me his wife left him, that he is feeling depressed again, and that he feels like killing himself.  He looks up at me and with tears running down his face he says, "I'm so sorry I waste so much of your time.  I feel like my life is falling apart. I should go."  In a moment where I would normally think of how busy my calendar was that day I suddenly see his heart.  It is shattered, broken, and he cannot put the pieces together again.  I walk over and put my arm around him and say, "It's going to be OK.  Don't give up.  Let's go have a cup of coffee in my office and talk.  Let's see what we need to do to start putting your life back together."  I felt total compassion for him.  As I tell this to Jesus He smiles. 

I then ask Jesus if this would work with everyone, and even the one who has abused and hurt me the most.  Suddenly the one who hurt me most is standing on the beach.  He is but a shell of what he used to be.  I see his heart, broken from his father beating and abusing him.  I see it is shattered and empty.  Suddenly I am filled with compassion and I recall my son's funeral.  He had walked up behind me as I was bent over my son's body in his casket sobbing. I thought he was someone else so I said, "I am reliving every mistake I ever made.  Why did I make so many mistakes?"  He said, "I know how you feel.  I live with the guilt and shame of what I have done every day of my life.  I can never forgive myself either."  I look up and he was crying and walked away.  In that moment I just let him walk away sobbing and they leave.  I now realize that he truly regretted what he had done.  That he admitted it was wrong.  I am the one who held all the hatred in my heart all these years.  In that moment I knelt in the sand at the feet of Jesus and forgave this man for everything he ever did. 

I was able to forgive people in my life for not being able to love me the way I needed to be loved because their hearts were broken. They weren't able to do it.  I do not excuse their wrongs but I can forgive them.  Everyone I see now I can see their heart.  It's as if I am seeing them through the eyes of Jesus. 

I focus on how different my life will now be...now that I can forgive those who betrayed me in the same way Jesus forgave me for betraying Him.  "Forgive us our  trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us". Those words will never be the same...now that I love others with a new heart.

CHAPTER FIVE--Tears at the Manger

One of the things I'm discovering is that one cannot stay in a state of spiritual euphoria forever.  As much as I'd like to stay that way, my pendulum is settling into a baseline rhythm reminding me that it's the day-to-day faithfulness, moving forward, and sometimes even hum drum routine that will be the norm for me.  I haven't been "feeling" God as intensely as I had in the past week so in mass I prayed, "Lord I know we can't base things on feelings so I will always remember your promise, "I will never leave you nor forsake you" and then I felt a wash of joy flow through me.  It was Jesus telling me that we don't base our faith on how many spine thrilling chills we receive but on the Word of God through the Bible and the Church.  We experience Him also in the loving hugs and smiles of fellow parishioners as we gather and share our love and faith.  We can cling to His promises that He is always with us, leading us and guiding us even in those less than thrilling moments.

I am in prayer for our church's opportunity fair.  Groups are setting up tables and we can see what ministries the church has available to us and decide where we feel God is calling us to serve. I am feeling strongly led to choir but I want to meet the wonderful people who are representing all the ministries to see if God has something else for me as well. I  have to be careful. I am so grateful and so excited that I want to literally "sign up for everything" and it's vital in one's walk with the Lord to pray about where HE wants you and not overextend yourself.  I was in very bad shape and I was given a miracle but I am still healing and I need to allow time for personal devotions, prayer, meditation and relaxation.

God is teaching me balance and obedience as as I drag my feet kicking and screaming through each new and deeper level of surrender.  Obedience will always be a key part of my growth in the faith.  I just don't LISTEN...even when told by God to do something I will often rebel.  I don't understand why I fight for things I don't even want sometimes.  I will fight like crazy because I want "my rights" and we see where that has gotten us as a nation and culture.  Unborn babies are being  murdered in mass numbers and we hear "This is my body!  It's my RIGHT!" and the rights of that baby are discarded and it's life ended.  I wonder in all that if the women who cry out about the "right" to abort an innocent baby give any thought to the fact that many of these unborn are girls.  If you care about women's rights and opportunities for girls shouldn't letting them live be the first priority?  No one seems to have an answer when I ask that.   This battle cry of  "This is my body!" echoes back through time as Jesus holds up bread and says, "This is my body....GIVEN FOR YOU"  While our society is clamoring "This is my body. I will do what I want!" and embrace this culture of death, Jesus gave His body so that we can live forever with Him.  He set aside his glory and willing gave His body to be beaten, tortured, and broken for you and me.  What a beautiful world we would  live in if the battle cry of our society was "This is my body, given for YOU" as a woman contemplates what is best for her unborn child.  I think the rebellion and insistence on the personal rights of one over the other in our culture tells us a lot.  It used to be that no one could stand up for themselves because they were taught to worry about "How that will look?" Society basically used to disregard people's misery in favor of "What will the neighbors think?" Often people lived in abusive situations and swallowed their pain and pretended all was well.  Then we decided that that was wrong and we should become more self centered so sadly the pendulum has swung totally the other way,  Now you hear "Why should I do that?  What's in it for ME?" It seems to be the prevailing thought.  I would think God's will probably lies in a healthy balance between these two extremes.  We are not called to be a doormat and also not supposed to be disregarding the rights of others to the point where they don't even get to live!  I dare to challenge myself in this selfishness of "ME FIRST" (because I see it in me too) and replace that with, "I want to be poured out for you Lord Jesus." 

I pray that God take away my selfishness and help me be a balanced woman with healthy self respect that doesn't need to sacrifice someone else to get it MY WAY.  I want to love and treat myself with respect and not allow others to "use" me but I also want to give myself in humble service for the one who poured out His blood for me.  I desire only to be a holy woman of God.  I ask you to pray for me as I struggle with surrender and obedience.

I remember when I was a little girl about 4 years old.  I had these shiny black patent leather shoes that had very noisy soles on them.  I liked the shoes a lot because they were shiny and pretty and they made NOISE!  Whenever I was mad and throwing a fit I would announce out loud, "I am going to put on my shoes!"  Then I would put them on and stomp around the house as loud as I could and actually yell out, "STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!" as I slammed my feet into the floor angry as fire!  I yelled that phrase over and over with the noise my shoes made as I rebelled hotly until someone either yelled at me to take them off and shut my beak or I got tired and gave up.   One day my mother made me sit in a corner and I kept standing up.  She would tell me to sit.  I would stand.  She then really bawled me out and I sat down crying but turned to her and said, "I'm still standing up on the inside!"  I realized the other day that spiritually I am still doing those things.  It's my willful rebellion and it needs to be surrendered to my Lord Jesus Christ.

Sometimes I actually picture Jesus standing off to the side while I'm lying on the floor kicking and screaming like a 2 year old wearing those shiny black shoes.  He patiently says to me, "OK Rosary Girl when you're finished with your temper tantrum I want you to know we are still doing this my way.  I'll be over here waiting to move you forward when your done throwing your fit."  Then once I finally do it His way I realize that it's great, awesome, wonderful, and I wonder why didn't I do this sooner?  Now you would think I would learn but that obstinate part of me still tries to "run the show" and Jesus patiently waits through each temper tantrum while I learn to obey.  He understands where it comes from.

Growing up in my family was tough.  It was "every man/woman/child for themselves".  No one cared about you in the larger sense because were all too busy trying to survive.  We were each separate entities that just happened to sleep in the same domicile.  You protected yourself, walled off your delicate heart and feelings to protect yourself and ducked and hid from the abuse to survive.  It was "survival of the fittest".   I learned that you hang onto every little thing you get, like it or not, with a death grip and never let go.  Even if it's something you don't want, you better grab it anyway.  I remember I was still hungry one night and my father had taken the last of meat entree. I said I wanted more and he said, "Too bad!  You snooze, you lose!" and that's the way it was.  Grab your share and disregard everything else.  I have been delivered from a lot of that but there is still traces of that in my heart and I pray daily God will set me free from that fully so that I can relax and not feel like everything is a major drama. 

I have the perfect story to illustrate this point.  Remember the Cabbage Patch doll craze?  Everyone would fly into the stores at the opening hour and grab them all off the shelf?  People were pushing, shoving, fighting, and clawing.  I watched this scene as arms were reaching around people that were in their way and just blindly grabbing a box.  One woman shouted to her daughter, "Just grab two!  We'll just take what we can get!"  They didn't even care about what they got.  They just grabbed and refused to let go or let anyone else get the dolls they were yanking off the shelf.

I also remember watching two fathers punching each other in the face at the mall while police were called to break it up and a little girl was wailing and sobbing, "Daddy!  Daddy!" because they were actually beating the heck out of each other over who would get the last "Tickle Me Elmo" doll.  This socialization can hinder us when we want to learn humility.  It's just against our norms to put others before ourselves. But this is what we have to do in order to be holy.  We live in tough times and they are getting tougher.  I pray that we don't build impenetrable walls around our hearts and stay open to the love of God and each other.  I found out in my healing that walling off my heart kept it from getting hurt but nothing good could get in either.  I couldn't feel love or anything.  I was empty with an aching heart.  Jesus knocked down those walls and now I can feel the love others have for me and most importantly, the love of God.  It's a risk because an open heart can be hurt but that's OK.  I want to experience all those feelings so that I can be whole.

Our Divine Mercy group is setting up a table at this opportunity fair (as I mentioned earlier) and I went to a craft and hobby store to pick up tea lights.  While there I noticed they already had 6 Christmas aisles set up.  The old me would have been livid as I didn't celebrate Christmas and would have been angry at the intrusion.  Now I realize that setting up these things early isn't an invasion but an invitation to browse so I could get ideas on how I want to decorate my tree this year.  I found myself lost in the aisles and contemplating a tree for the Blessed Mother covered with symbols attributed to her with rosaries all over it instead of strings of garlands.  As I thought this over it dawned on me how far I'd come.  Here I was spending a total of 3 hours in the these aisles, gathering ideas to honor the Blessed Mother and our Lord at Christmas in three months and I was joyful and excited.  There was no trace of anxiety.  Could it be the Lord delivered me from that too? 

I then, in a totally unplanned event, selected and purchased a nativity set that really spoke to me.  It's poly resin but looks like it's made out of wood.  As I put it in my cart tears started (just a little) and I was overcome with emotion that Christmas was coming to my apartment.  It is so neat that my first year living in my own apartment will be special as I will be celebrating Christmas for the first time since 1995.  I am very excited.  I was wandering the ornament aisle and prayed and asked God if this was a "good move" feeling a tiny fearful and then my eyes caught an ornament of Mary Queen of Angels...the name of my home parish and my favorite picture of our Blessed Mother.  I bought it immediately and accepted that as the Blessed Mother's way of hugging me and telling me that I was moving in the right direction.  This was proof that another small dose of healing happened in the aisles of that craft/hobby store.  Praise God!  I'm moving onto perfection and no that's not an unreasonable goal.  The Bible tells us that...  "Beloved, now are we the children of God, and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." (I John 3:2)  This will not be me making myself holy, it will be Him making me holy, and giving me the grace to say yes and quit throwing those tantrums.  Someday I will see Him and these struggles will then be over.  Hallelujah! 

CHAPTER FOUR-- "Lazarus, come forth!"

Tuesday before my Friday confession started in a black mood.  I felt so upset because I had engaged in my sin again and would not be able to take communion.  Tuesday is always my favorite day in the parish.  We don't have a morning Mass but we do have an evening schedule that has a great variety of experiences starting with a devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Help followed by the Rosary, Mass, and then Confession.  It's a great night to attend the church!  Unfortunately I knew I would have to "sit out" another communion and it was eating at me.  I wasn't engaging in my compulsive behaviors and because of that I was filled with pent up anxiety and had no way to vent it.  I agonized that I could not meet my Lord at His table and was filled with sorrow.  I was preparing for vacation as a social worker so I was trying desperately to get as many people seen as possible and didn't have time to see if I could get with a priest before the services to go to Confession. I was becoming quite adept at asking for special Confessions and joked about spending "more time in the penalty box than in the game" but it was not a joke.  I always laugh and make light of things when I'm in agony and I knew I was in serious shape.

I came to the church and something in me just snapped.  I was filled with massive dark depression and deep sorrow. I could not shake it and I could not feel God's presence anywhere.  This deep, dark night of the soul wrapped cold fingers of death around my heart and I felt a longing to receive the Lord but knew I could not.  I held back my tears but they were very near the surface and I could not shake the horrible feelings that were coming to a head and ready to burst like a volcano.  

I always struggled with the devotion to Our Lady of Perpetual Help and I have no idea why.  I always got the prayer card but set it aside and would usually listen as everyone prayed.  To me I didn't feel like I identified with her and this was a shock as I have a very strong devotion to the Blessed Mother.  I used to tell myself I should just not attend and come for the rosary, Mass, and Confession but I kept feeling a nagging to be there for the devotion so I always came.  I can honestly admit I never prayed the prayers even once at that time and that is why I never got anything out of it.  You get what you put into Mass and the other devotions and prayers.  When you give a half effort you get half results.  Jesus talks clearly about how we reap what we sow and that is so true.  So I did my usual pouting about the devotion but I was in so much agony over not being able to take communion that I was crumbling.  Tears were starting in my eyes and I knew I could not stand one more day of NOT being able to take communion because of this addictive sin. 

I pictured the Lord standing in front of the church crying and reach out to me and I was crying and reaching out to Him but I could not get to Him because I was evil and could not stop sinning.  I felt I had broken His precious heart and the heart of the Blessed Mother and so as the rosary continued it got worse and worse until I could not pray it. The rosary means a lot to me, as you can tell from my pen name, but that night was the first time I could not keep my attention on the prayers and began to cry softly.  My heart was empty and dark and my mind was racing to "RUN" but I knew I would not let myself do that.

Once the rosary was finished I could stand no more.  I saw Fr D getting ready to put on vestments to say Mass and I knew I just couldn't sit there with my broken heart and handle the way I kept hurting Jesus with my sinning and inability to get myself together.  I left my purse in the pew so I couldn't leave and went outside.  I sat in the car smoking and the sobbing started. I cried like I'd never cried before. I felt I hurt God and that I was better off dead.  I kept thinking that living on this earth wasn't working out for me and I was ready to check out if Friday did not bring the relief I sought.  I never threatened God or got angry, I was far too heartbroken for that.  I felt that I was already dead inside and nothing could save me.

Suddenly I had the realization that I was truly not going to be able to go to heaven. I was not going to make it.  No matter what I did I was doomed to hell and eternal separation from my Lord that I loved so much.  I believed it and that was a horrible, sad, and hopeless feeling.

As I was smoking and crying I put in my Rich Mullins CD.  I looked at the back of the case to see what songs might be good to listen to as I'd just bought it and did not know what was on it.  A song titled, "Hold Me Jesus" drew my attention.  As a child who has no memories of being hugged, rocked, held, or given affection that song seemed perfect.  I was falling apart fast.  I played the song and every single word of it spoke to me.  I could not believe it! It was as if someone looked into my desperate heart and longing to be close to God and wrote down every word of how I felt. I was stunned.  God was working on me in the parking lot. When Rich sang, "Won't you be my Prince of Peace?" I knew that was my heart's desire.  I wanted peace.  I wanted the peace that only Jesus could give to come and fill me.  I wanted to feel good about being a Christian, and I wanted to be a Catholic who can take communion more than 3-4 times in 7 days. 

I came back inside the church once I knew Mass was over and waited in line for Confession. Once in Confession I told Fr D that I couldn't take anymore. I sobbed openly and told him that I had all but given up.  He asked me if I had made an appointment with Fr S for the general Confession and I told him it was Friday.  He said, "Lorrie I think things are going to be much better for  you after Friday."  He had no idea how prophetic those words would prove to be. I finished making my Confession and received absolution, feeling somewhat better but still convinced I was doomed to hell.

It was good I was preparing for vacation as it kept me busy until Friday.  I was depressed and anxious but I obeyed the priest's instructions not to give myself penances and to hold off on everything I was doing and wait for the Confession.

All day Friday I was nervous.  I was having panic attacks but I knew come hell or high water I was not going to miss my 5 pm appointment time.  I arrived at 3 and was going to pray since we have all day adoration on Friday until 6 pm.  I forgot about the Level II Divine Mercy group and they were praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy.  I love that Chaplet, it's the only time I could feel God's presence but today I was too nervous to pray it. I listened to everyone praying and when it was over the class leader asked if I wanted to sit in on the class. I didn't really feel up to it but it would make the time pass until I could meet with Fr S so I agreed to go.  I love everyone dearly in that class so I enjoyed the discussion and many people knew of my appointment and said they would pray for me at that time.  I didn't tell them what my addiction was but they knew I was struggling and were offering love and support.  It's vital to reach out to others.  You don't have to tell them everything just tell them you're struggling and ask for their prayers.  During class the leader mentioned a woman was coming to pray for her daughter who had struggles and suffering that were overwhelming her.  My ears perked up because that was the name Fr S had mentioned to me.  He had said she had "healing gifts" and I immediately wanted to pray for my friend and meet this woman, who might have something to say that would help me in my agony.  Mass was at 6 and I would be ready for an encounter that was to change my whole life.

I walked the long walk (it's really short, it just FELT long) to Fr S's office and he was in the hallway talking to someone in an office and told me he would be right there.  I was standing in front of a beautiful statue of Our Lady of Grace so I began begging her to help me.  I asked her to pray for me and to use  her intercessions to plead my cause to her Son. I was so upset and so devastated I did not know what to do anymore.

I made my Confession but it was difficult when Fr S asked me "What does God think of you?" when I talked about my struggles with disappointing God. I can honestly say I had no idea what He thought of me but I was sure He was very disappointed and would probably be getting very tired of me.  After the Confession I felt some relief.  We discussed mortal sin and that when one is in the grip of addiction they are not in a state of "freedom" and free will comes into question.  I felt better.  I asked Fr. S to shred that list and he did.  I didn't want to ever see it again.  Then I went to Mass.  Fr. Steve was praying the Mass and talked about saying YES to holiness. It almost seemed like a joke for a compulsive sinner like me to say YES to holiness but I did.  I honestly did and I was feeling better than I had felt in years.  I knew those sins were gone and I promised to NEVER EVER give myself penances again.  I would follow what the priests told me and accept that as God's will for my life.

After we finished praying for a friend everyone gradually left.  I walked over and talked to the woman who led the prayer about how I was struggling with an addiction and that I wondered if I could meet her sometime and talk about it.  She was warm and empathic telling me that this was the best time.  So she told me to go light three candles: one for my friend we just prayed for, one for myself and ..."you know who the third one is for".  I went and lit it for my father and at that moment I felt I forgave him.  It was over, or at least one level was gone.  At that moment I felt no more anger or grief.  I told her about my story and she asked questions, and held my hand.

 She told me my healing was coming in three stages and that "tonight the heaviest layer is coming off".  I was so excited that at long last I would feel something other than depression, sorrow, and regret.  She said that the final layer would be...and then she paused.  She said, "I know this sounds strange but I keep seeing a nativity scene."  I almost burst out laughing and said, "perfect!"  I knew that it all made sense.  My final healing was going to be attending Christmas mass.  I then told her the story about Christmas and we then began to pray.

She described me as having this inner child who was in prison and there was a layer like a thick tombstone over the top of her and that nothing was getting in.  No wonder I couldn't feel God or love or anything positive.  All those things were there and ready for me but they couldn't get through that concrete layer that was in the way of healing my childhood wounds.  She led me through a very involved guided meditation that rescued my child from the prison of pain and unshackled her.  We built a power rescue team that was led by Jesus and the Blessed Mother.  It included St Therese and St Philomena, who I had just stared a 9 day novena to just 48 hours ago.  They surrounded my inner child and called forth her purity, restoring her to her lost innocence. 

She then put her hands on me and I felt a jolt of electricity surge through my body and fill me.  It ran down to my feet and then up again to my head.  I immediately began to speak in tongues.  I felt everything lifting off of me and before I knew it I was being filled again. The power of the Holy Spirit was pouring into me.  All of those good actions of my priests, their care and concern, the love of the parishioners, and mostly the love of God in Christ was flooding into my dying heart and bringing me back to life.  It was as if those good things were in line and waiting and now they poured at once into me and delivered me. 

As we continued with the meditation we ended up at a nativity scene where my little girl got to be the angel in a white dress.  The woman praying for me said, "We should sing a Christmas Carol...what one do you like?" and I immediately came up with one.  "Hark the Herald Angels Sing".  You have to appreciate this scene.  It is August 26th and we are in a dimly lit church around 9 pm and singing a Christmas carol!  It was so amazing.  We sang in perfect harmony too! 

Then she had me take off my shoes and did healing work with my feet and legs and told me to soak them daily for a week and then every Saturday after that.  When we ended the prayer session I knew I would eventually be free of my addiction, the raw urges and nagging thoughts were simply not there that night. I knew that victory would come and for that moment I felt fantastic.

I went home and looked in the mirror and didn't recognize myself at all. The deep lines on my face and under my eyes were gone. My eyes were filled with love and I could see the love of Jesus radiating into the mirror.  I was glowing!

When I got to Mass the next morning everyone was commenting that "something happened" and were rejoicing with me.  Both of my parish priests walked through hell with me and I know they were happy.  It takes special men of God to see the hell you're in and dare to walk into it surrounded by darkness and despair and hold out their hand and say, "Come with me and let me show you the way to Jesus".  I constantly ask God to give me the walk with Him that I see in my priests.

The next day I walked around my apartment singing, crying tears of joy, and praising God for His goodness.  I am free!  I could feel God near me.  It was so wonderful after feeling so dead inside for so many years.

I know that if the three things that happened that day weren't lined up the way they were, I would have not received this miracle.  This confirms to me it was God.  I had to go to that Confession and be freed of those sins.  I then needed that homily on saying YES to God.  Once I said YES to God, then He made a dramatic move toward me and kicked open the door of my prison and delivered me.  If you just say yes and take one step toward God He will run to you!  He wants to be with you, He really does!  If you just accept Him your life will change. I was eager to experience deeper levels of God.  

I thought of the 10 lepers Jesus healed and how only 1 came back to thank Him. I got two little battery operated votive candles and placed them in front of that statue of Our Lady of Grace and wrote a note of thanks and left them for her.  She interceded for me and I love her.  I will worship her Son always. 

"But thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." (I Corinthians 15:57 KJV)

CHAPTER THREE--Agony in the Garden

Sunday June 19th at 6 am my alarm jolted me awake with a start.  I hadn't been sleeping in days from the fear of the demon returning to me and was still wearing my rosary around my neck and dousing my room with holy water in a panicked attempt to quell the fear and terror inside of me.  It had been so long since I went to church and I had no idea what would happen that day.

I dressed and left my apartment and made the drive arriving just before the service at 8 am was starting.  I slipped into the back and sat next to a lady who smiled at me. I was in the very last row on the left and just looked around at the people as they entered and sat down.  I tried to smile but I was exhausted; spiritually and morally bankrupt and had nothing to offer anyone in return.  I was dry and thirsting for my God.

As the mass began I heard all the familiar words and the reality that I couldn't remember most of them broke my heart in two.  Why did I run away? Why was I thinking I could return?  The longing in my heart to experience Mass caused me to cry.  I cried so hard that my tears rolled in rivers down the pew in front of me and soaked the front of my shirt.  I hadn't brought tissues again (you think I would have learned by now) and I was left trying to wipe away my tears with my hands while I ached to be welcomed home.

As everyone went up for communion I knew I could not join them and then my heart really broke.  I sobbed until my whole body shook.  The years of pride and feeble attempts to save myself from my addictions and pain caved in on my soul and I watched in longing as people walked up to receive the Eucharist.  I had to move into the aisle to let people out and then sat down and cried again. An older gentleman across the aisle came over and handed me a cotton hankie, patted my shoulder and said, "It's OK honey.  Just keep it."  I tried to thank him but nothing but a sob came out and I bowed my head and cried for every moment I had wasted in the past 11 years.  As the woman in the same pew returned to her seat she put her arm around me and said, "It's OK sweetie.  It's OK."  She kept her arms around me until we stood for the final prayer.

I waited while people cleared out of the sanctuary and then approached the priest (Fr Se) and introduced myself.  I told  him that I "just want to come home" and he was very understanding.  He talked to me briefly and then I found out he was leaving town for a week the next day so he told me to email him and I could see him when he returned.

After the service I went home spent and still very frightened.  I immediately sat at my computer and typed him a letter reviewing my situation and what I needed to do to come home to the church.  I then went to mass again in Burton at noon and met another priest who was very friendly and told me to call him and he would be glad to meet with me.

On Monday I received an email from Fr S  stating that my situation was pretty simple. I needed to make a full confession and then I could go to mass and receive the sacraments again.  I was so stunned that no one was telling me to go away. I had convinced myself that I was going to be told it was too late and that no one wanted someone who would walk away in a huff and stay gone for 11 years.  God was working in the priests who helped me with my initial fear and trepidation and I was grateful to anyone who would "tolerate" me for in my mind I was the lowest of the low and a priest would probably best spend his time on someone more deserving.  I called the secretary at the Burton Church and scheduled an appointment to see the priest for my confession.  I meandered through my days as a social worker still scared at my apartment and still plagued by feelings of unworthiness and massive guilt.

I went to adoration in Burton and sat for several hours a day and true to form I would be lost in my mind as If I was being lifted from my seat and I was somewhere else. I would come back and 1-2 hours would have gone by.  During those times I would see images of the cross, the Blessed Mother, and would feel peace from my addiction for a few hours.  The compulsions were relieved by Adoration and took away some of the cravings and thoughts.  

On Thursday I went to the church and talked to the priest.  I'm not sure what happened but we seemed to run out of time and I was only able to rattle off a few things off of my list.  He gave me absolution but something inside of me felt like I was missing something.  I needed to read that list and I was convinced that I should immediately start working on penances of my own and cross each one off the list as soon as I completed sufficient penance which was often grueling, self abusive, and excessive.  I started wearing head scarfs and sentenced myself to 6 months of that for one sin on my list. I was reading massive pages from the Bible with no link or connection to the sin and feeling lost and scared.  I began making myself pray the rosary 12 times a day and other bizarre self abusive things to myself in an attempt to "earn my forgiveness" and show God how sorry I was.

My first communion in 11 years was our newly ordained priest's (Fr D) first time praying Mass without anyone with him.  Needless to say I'm sure we will both always remember that day.  It was at the 7:30 daily Mass.  I was so eager to take communion I couldn't wait for Sunday.

 

We cannot save ourselves.  We cannot make ourselves holy.  We cannot free ourselves from bondage to sin and addiction.  Only the grace of Jesus Christ can save us.  We have to trust in Him and obey Him and we can experience freedom.  I didn't know how far down I would have to go.

Many mornings I couldn't take communion. It started to accelerate as I continued to work on my general confession list and make severe penances that were designed to "fix" this problem that was embarrassing and unacceptable.  I couldn't understand why it was getting worse.  I sincerely desired to be close to Jesus. I prayed, I meditated, I read the Bible, why was my sin getting worse?  What was I doing wrong?  I would often have to catch a priest after Mass for Confession as many as 5-6 times a week.  During one Confession I told Fr D that I couldn't take it anymore and was crying.  After we had talked he began giving me absolution and suddenly I heard a voice that said, "Prepare your heart to confess this sin for the last time."  I was flooded with emotion and God really spoke through Fr D in a powerful way that day.  I never knew how much I would need that promise to hold onto until I could surrender and finally be set free of my addiction and sins that were keeping me from feeling the full love of Jesus.

I was taking a Level I Divine Mercy class and began to meet women who each had their struggles and were finding solace in our sharing our stories as we studied St Faustina's Diary.  At that time I was convinced that my leaving the church was ground for excommunication and would read and study Canon Law until 2 or 3 in the morning coming up with crazy reasons why I should be kicked out.  I bought books on the topic and began increasing my penances.  My addiction is stress related so the harder I pushed myself the worse it became. It was a vicious never-ending cycle of misery.  I wasn't happy and I watched others who were at peace and longed for their walk with God.

 I would make myself go all day without food and all night without sleep, reciting rosary decades and punishing myself in an attempt to be rid of my addiction.  I just had to push myself harder. I was exhausted, frustrated, and hating myself.  Every time I slipped back into my addiction I would cry and beat up on myself and grieve the loss of communion and grab whichever priest was praying Mass that day and get right into confession.  That was the right thing to do but the other things I was "adding" to the mix were destroying me.  I drank heavily and resumed smoking.  I wasn't sure what to do.  Here I was being pious and attending daily Mass and nothing was getting better.  I sought Jesus like a man in the desert seeks water and I had no idea where to find him anymore.

I never told either priest about my self abusive penances because these were secret rituals I had to keep to myself.  One morning as I was crying to Fr D in an after Mass confession I broke down and told him I really felt my penance should be to stand in the middle of the freeway with a sign that reads "Hit Me!"   He informed me that he would not be giving out that penance that day.  I wanted Jesus close to me, but my self salvation attempts only drove us farther apart and I refused to allow his love and grace to heal me.  I can clean up this mess myself and then I can give Jesus a beautiful gift of a cleaned up woman.  He deserved that.  I did not see how this made no sense. I was blind to the fact that He was desperately wanting to set me free.  All I knew was that I was a bad Catholic and that I needed to step up the purification process so I could stop doing this terrible sin.  In spite of all of this I was making some friends at the church and attending daily Mass. Even if I couldn't take communion I went because I knew if I stayed away due to this addiction Satan would make sure I never was able to go to church so I had enough wherewithal to attend daily regardless of what state of sin I was in and whether or not I could take communion.   My list of 11 year sins was still there and I read it over and over. 

One bright spot in all this is that I had both priests come to my apartment and do a blessing to rid it of any evil that might be there.  I felt so much better afterwards and cleaned out all traces of occult and immoral possessions and threw them into the dumpster.  It was a very cleansing act that gave me some relief for a time from my anxiety.

I can't say enough wonderful things about the two priests at my parish.  They were always willing to give me confession on a moment's notice, pray with/for me, answer countless emails, talk to me, counsel me, and offer great suggestions.  But they did not know the horrible things I was doing.  If you don't tell them they can't help you properly.  Always confide in your priest about all the steps you are taking in your spiritual walk if you are struggling.  In that way they can guide you if you are getting off track.

After a couple months of this agony I couldn't take it anymore.  Pain is always a motivator for me to change.  After having enough suffering for a lifetime I went into Tuesday night confession with Fr D and showed him the secret "list" and what I was doing to try to make up my own penances and that I was desperate as I couldn't take it anymore.  He was newly ordained and wanted to consult Fr S about this and we agreed he would get back to me.  Since what I told him was in confession I wrote Fr S and Fr D an email detailing what was going on and  giving them permission to discuss the situation. I felt a strong wave of relief as I had been told to stop the penances and I agreed I would await their decision and abide by it. I was told that I was not to add to penances and that I cannot do this for myself.  Only Jesus could help me and that issuing myself penances was not a good thing to do. This is where God bluntly told me that I needed to learn obedience.  It's my least favorite word but essential to my growth.  When we refuse to obey our priests we are disobeying God.  They are sitting in for Jesus and when we decide we were "let off easy" or maybe we go the other way and think they are making a big deal out of "nothing" and we disregard their instruction, we cannot grow as we should.  God honors obedience.  Just as Jesus showed obedience to Mary and Joseph when they found Him in the Temple and later when He demonstrated the ultimate obedience to God the Father by dying for us, we too should be obedient and do our best to follow the teachings of the church and complete the penances  we are told to do (and in my case only what we are told to do). 

It was ultimately decided I would make a general confession of everything on the list and get rid of it once and for all.  I agreed as I needed to read each and every one of those mortal sins and get rid of them.  If we weren't meant to state each of our sins we could simply walk into confession and receive a blanket absolution and  walk out.  Jesus designed confession to be dispensed by a priest and that we should confess our sins so that they can be forgiven. 

Now you think that I had my confession date I would feel better right?  Well I was about to slide into the deepest abyss of all that almost consumed me. 

INTRODUCTION

Welcome to my blog of my journey home to the Catholic faith.  I was born to a Wisconsin Synod Lutheran mother and a Southern Baptist father.  I was baptized Lutheran but basically raised Baptist and Assembly of God.  I became disillusioned with both and when my children were older I became United Methodist.  The death of my son caused an explosion of my faith and it failed me utterly and totally. I later became Catholic as I explain in my story.  After leaving the Catholic faith I practiced paganism and then Judaism so I can pretty much say I covered all the bases. I finally came home to the Catholic faith and this blog is my story of how I finally came home to stay and what happened once I did.

I hope you marvel with me at the way God works in our lives to bring about miracles.  Now I know that many people will say the age of miracles is long over but I see them everyday, in the determined faith of someone suffering, and in those who choose to believe in an age when it's considered silly and/or foolish.  My prayer is that you will refer this blog to someone who may be away from the Church in the hope and prayer that they will see themselves in my story, identify with it, and return to the Church and our Precious Savior and Blessed Mother.  They care for us, they long for us, and they call to us to "come home".

I know the beginning stories are painful to read, filled with darkness, doubt, fear, and suffering.  But like the Bible, I know the ending and it's filled with a massive miracle, hope, deliverance from sin, addiction, and redemption.  So wade through it with me, enter into my suffering and celebrate my deliverance through the power of the Holy Spirit in the name of Jesus who sits at the Father's right hand, one God now and forever!  All glory, honor, and credit go only to God who has freed me from certain death and horrendous suffering. It is only by seeing how bad it was that you can appreciate why my soul sings and rejoices. 

Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth. May God richly bless you as you enter into my life, death, and resurrection...with Christ leading me all the way and His Blessed Mother cradling me in her loving arms.  Many thanks also to St Therese, St Michael the Archangel, St Faustina, and St Philomena who came through in a POWERFUL way.  Pray for us!

Pax,

Rosary Girl