So how can we make our prayer personal? Whose words should we use when we desire to truly communicate? Someone else’s—a psalmist’s, a saint’s, the Liturgy’s, or our own? The answer lies in all of the above. But there are pitfalls, whether the prayer is the kind we memorize and recite or of the spontaneous variety.

Jen Fulwiler, a convert from atheism, stumbled into such a trap, when she was trying to get the hang of praying the Divine Office.  The recitation of Psalm 143, in particular, wasn’t working for her:

The enemy pursues my soul;
he has crushed my life to the ground;
he has made me dwell in darkness
like the dead, long forgotten.
Therefore my spirit fails;
my heart is numb within me.

“I was having a great day and feeling strong in my faith. . . This is totally not speaking to me! I thought. . . And then I remembered something that a commenter named Jasmine said. . .

‘Remember that the ‘prayer of the Church’. . . is for the whole Church. You will not identify with every psalm at every moment, so when you pray them think of all of the people in the world praying with you who DO identify with the psalm. Pray for them and on their behalf.’

It all finally clicked. . . As I had yawned through the psalmist’s cry of anguish, someone out there could barely utter those same words through trembling lips and tear-stung eyes. I thought of all the people praying the Hours in that state, and for the first time was conscious of our deep connectedness as we prayed in unison as part of the mystical Body of Christ. . .

I thought back to my words at the beginning of the office —“But this psalm doesn’t have anything to do with me!”— and realized that I had learned something critically important about prayer: It’s not all about me.”

Still, praying with another’s words can take some getting used to, especially if we have come from Protestant backgrounds or circles and been warned of vain repetition. Yet repetition isn’t the problem, vanity is—the vanity of trying to beat down Almighty God to get him to heed our desires. Jesus, Our Savior, is not simply an idea, an ethereal principle, a distant God for whom we must act in particular ways to please and appease. He’s not the God who requires a rain dance with a special kind of jig, clothing, and rhythm in order to flatter him into a pliable temper. Unlike the false god of Baal, he doesn’t require fervent empty acts in exchange for favors: “I just said the magic formula. Now, please do what I ask.” This is not prayer.

Repetition from a surrendered heart is something different entirely. In the case of the prayers of the Rosary, for instance, repetition is meant to be a doorway into the deeper mysteries of the life of Jesus and his mother. Repeating the beautiful words of the “Our Father” and the “Hail Mary” is a communication beyond words for those who sense munificent love of those to whom they are praying, because after years of intimacy, the most important things have been already said.

Rote and written prayers can also refresh because they don’t rely on the shallow puddle of our own resources. They can lift us out of our own circumstances, express the depth and range of human experience, and draw our attention to the divine, or to a Church feast or season, relieving us of excessive subjectivism.

Besides, if we reject all second-hand prayers, we’re left with only the spontaneous kind, which can put us in a bind if we’re leading a meeting and don’t know what to say. Plus, the pressure to be continuously creative without the help of “pre-fabricated” prayers can drastically shorten our one-on-one time spent with God. After just five minutes, our spontaneity can dry up. Conjuring our own words may come easy when we’re overcome with euphoria or desperation, but most of life plays out somewhere in between.  We’re tired, grouchy, drained of creative juice, but thank God, we can pray anyway, not only when we’re enjoying a peak psychological moment of expressive euphoria or conversely stewing in utterly cathartic misery.

But there are pitfalls here, too. We might feel obliged to pray words that we find off-putting—perhaps too flowery, complex, archaic, or casual for our taste. We might labor under the misconception that, since the St. Therese of Lisieux, “The Little Flower,” and St. Maximillian Kolbe were admirable saints, their prayers are somehow better than ours. And yet God wants us to become more fully ourselves through prayer, never someone else he never created us to be.

If we find that we aren’t truly being ourselves through the recitation of prayers, then it is time to put the printed word down and spontaneously tell God how we really feel, what we really want, what we really think. And then we need to really listen. God knows everything anyway. Hiding only means refusing to see ourselves, for we’ll never succeed in hiding from him.

Spontaneous prayers can have their pitfalls, as well, of course. Sometimes our words may try to pass themselves off as prayer. . . “I thank thee, O Lord, that I am not like other men. . .(Lk: 18:11)” isn’t a bad prayer. It’s just not prayer at all—neither are “Lord, grant me a mystical facelift,” or “Can you hurt her for me, please?”

Really, the question isn’t so much whose words we should use, anyway. As St. Teresa of Avila, the first female Doctor of the Church, said in her spiritual classic, The Interior Castle:

“. . .She who does not consider with whom she speaks, and what she asks, and who she is that asks, and of whom she asks, knows little of prayer, however much her lips may move. . . But whoever shall accustom himself to speak with the majesty of God, as he would talk with his slave, without considering whether he speaks properly or no, but who speaks only what comes first into his head, or what he may have learnt by heart by having repeated it at other times—this I do not consider to be prayer.” (The Interior Castle, by St. Teresa of Avila, T. Jones; London, 1852, p. 5)

In other words, whether prayer is spontaneous, read, or rote is not the point,  but whether we’re cognizant of who is talking to whom.

It’s a lesson for all of us. If we ourselves are prone to impersonal expressions, perhaps we are being called to address our own faith lives. Try this: Say the “Our Father,” and say it directly to the Father, imagining his full glorified presence before you, imagining him responding to your words. Remember, you are speaking to Someone. You may find, as I did, that you’ve never really prayed the Lord’s Prayer like this before.

There are other threats to intimate prayer, such as anger and blame, grief and resentment, self-pity and sin, shame and fear, little faith, hope, or love, believing in a demanding impersonal God, not really knowing who God. Any number of blocks can create a spiritual distance in our hearts. We are all capable of calling on God with our lips, spontaneously or by rote, while at the same time our heart is saying, “I don’t really want to talk to you.”

Sure, we may know our method, “say” our prayers, talk to God spontaneously, and show up faithfully (these are good things), but we may live a long distance from Jesus’ message in John 14: “If you abide in me, if you abide in my love, I will abide in you … and I will manifest myself to you.”

The goal of prayer is a union of love, a communion of mutual self-giving, in which we find a vulnerability, an intimacy, a knowing, and a belonging that rivals all earthly joys.

May we not only “say” our prayers, but exchange our happiness, our woes, and everything in between in a language of angelic intimacy. May we encounter the living God, not as that Someone we merely speak to, but as that Someone we love. . . and who loves us, specifically, personally, truly, always.

Copyright 2013 Christine Watkins

Did Jesus Really Mean What He Said about the Rich Man in the Gospel? 

“Did Jesus mean what he said?” This is the question a high-powered, well-to-do, Catholic lawyer named Dale Recinella asked his wife the day they signed their contract for their spacious, new dream home.

The Holy Spirit had nicked his conscience that morning at Mass with the following reading, Mark 10:17-25:

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “‘Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good-except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, do not defraud, honor your father and mother.’ ” “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.” Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

Dale asked again, “And so the question is, did Jesus mean what he said?”

His wife, Susan, a Catholic therapist, looked up at him pensively, leaving her fork and her words in midair.

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard anyone discuss it.”

“Me neither.”

“Maybe we should find out.”

Shortly after that, Dale had a terrifying, realistic dream, which left him in a puddle of agonizing tears. He is outside raking leaves and hears the most beautiful angelic voice beckoning him to the come towards the stunning light of a setting sun. Everything in his entire being wants to run towards it; yet he can’t. His ankle is chained to his new house, representing his material wealth and his attachment to it. In the dream, he would chop his leg in two, rip it off like a mad dog, anything to not be deprived of the light. But to his horror, he cannot. He describes what happens next:

“I try to pry the chain out of the wall. I even try to pull the whole blasted house behind me. But it is futile. As I stand there trembling and weeping, the voice fades, the sun sets, and finally, it is completely dark. The voice is gone. The cold is absolute. In the dream, I know that there will be no second chance. I have lost it forever. I scream and wake up.” (Now I Walk on Death Row, pp. 92-93)

After his prophetic dream, which came in answer to his and his wife’s question, Dale moved from the uncomfortable fear that Jesus may have meant what he said in general, to the shock of thinking that he may have meant it for him and his wife and family personally.

Those of us who are Christians know that the Gospel is not a series of historical events or moral teachings. It is a living text. The words that Jesus spoke to this young man and to his disciples were also intended for you and me right here and now in the 21st century.

Like Dale, we might consider asking ourselves the same question, “Did Jesus mean what he said?” Is wealth a possible impediment to my entry into the Kingdom of God? Is Jesus speaking to me?

I rarely consider wealth to be one of my impediments to God, yet I live in one of the wealthiest countries in the history of the world. We tend to agree that materialism is a sin, but we almost never bring that sin to the Sacrament of Reconciliation—we aren’t confessing it. We are taking it to our graves. This is understandable given our fallen human nature, for when we have lovely things and plenty of money, it is very hard for us to give them up. Even little kids hate the thought of sharing.

When we respond to God’s grace and go through the agonizing work of dying to ourselves, when we unselfishly let go, we are able to respond freely to Jesus’ call to follow him. This means living simply without luxury and giving what we don’t actually need to the poor. Then we are free to enter Paradise without chains attached to the world. A hearse is never followed by a U-Haul. Wealth becomes an impediment to our connection with heaven when our private possessions (money, lovely material possessions, nice house, nice car, big bank account, etc.) have greater value to us than our relationship with God and others. The above passage from the Gospel of Mark has the power to change the face of the earth, if we are willing to listen to what Jesus might be saying to us.

Jesus simply wants us to ask him this with an open and obedient heart: “What do you want me to do with my money? What to do you want me to do with my things?”

St. Ignatius of Loyola, the preeminent teacher in the Catholic Church on spiritual discernment wrote in his Spiritual Exercises: “The other things on the face of the earth are created for human beings, to help them in the pursuit of the end for which they are created. From this it follows that we ought to use these things to the extent that they help us toward our end, and free ourselves from them to the extent that they hinder us from it.”

In article 2446, The Catechism of the Catholic Church quotes these words from St. John Chrysostom: “Not to enable the poor to share in our goods is to steal from them and deprive them of life. The goods we possess are not ours, but theirs.” “The demands of justice must be satisfied first of all; that which is already due in justice is not to be offered as a gift of charity.”

When we come face to face with Our Lord at our personal judgment at death, Jesus will ask all of us, “What did you do with the resources I gave you?”

Many of us never ask what Jesus wants at all, because we fear his answer. We buy what we want, earn what we can, without ever checking in with the Almighty regarding the soul-saving concept of God versus mammon (money). When we contemplate giving up a substantial amount of our money or giving up some of our things to help the poor, we can get hit by an irrational fear of entering into poverty, misery, and woe ourselves. We can forget that God knows very well that we need money and things to live. As Jesus tells us in Matthew 6: 31-33, “So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’ All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom (of God) and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.”

When we give abundantly and live more simply, we are sustained providentially by God’s loving hand because he wants to help us to continue to give. But we lack trust. Somehow we erroneously think that God doesn’t know how to take care of us, if we follow his will.

At the end of our lives, we will stand before the stark truth and see plainly what God intended for us to do with the money and resources we had at our disposal. For that day to be a joyous one, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND WATCHING THIS SHORT MUSIC VIDEO BY SARAH McLACHLAN CALLED “WORLD ON FIRE”. The song will be a welcome break from your day, and the video conveys the essence of this article much better than my words.

So what happened to Dale Recinella and his wife, Susan, when they asked themselves, “Did Jesus mean what he said?”

Their entire lives changed. To read what happened to them, I recommend Mr. Recinella’s fantastic book: Now I Walk on Death Row.

The answer was, “Yes.”

Copyright 2013 Christine Watkins

The Gift of Our Surrender

As I was submitting this article to Catholic Mom, I got the news of Pope Benedict XVI resigning, February 28th, 2013, and all other thoughts I might put on the page seem less important now. But in light of this momentous news, may you read the following article with tremendous hope, knowing that our surrender in all things, will always lead to divine life . . .

Jesus says, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” (Mt. 6: 33). Oh, how hard this is.

God has one goal for all of us. His goal in everything that he calls us to is to bring us closer to our true home, an eternal paradise with him. Every little thing he does for us and asks of us is focused on this one goal. He never deviates from it, not for one second. But to trust this, to have faith in his ultimate goodness in every situation, can seem like an impossible task. Of course, it makes more sense to entrust our lives, our day to day activities, to our Creator who understands absolutely everything about absolutely everything; but we humans try to take control. We grab the reigns, over and over again, in a horse carriage too big and unruly for us to drive, and we paddle the oars of our boat in the river of time, whose twists and rapids only God can see. Each day God asks us to hand him the reigns, to give him the oars. But do we want to? It can be so painful, albeit temporarily, and requires great trust, nothing less than our complete surrender.

To surrender is to give up control to someone else. This goes against our human self-centered, self-protective nature. Yet Jesus tells us that surrender is the only way that leads to eternal life. In all four gospels, Jesus repeats: “Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake, will save it.” (Lk. 9:24) And Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord will all your heart and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways submit to him, and he will make straight your paths,” (NRSV).

Let us try, as painful and scary as it might be, to surrender to the fact that maybe Our Father in heaven knows best. Let us surrender to the fact that our lives aren’t really our own and that we are in control of very little.

We can’t cause our heart to beat for one second. We can’t bring anyone back to life. We can’t create a single star. But God can. He can create galaxies, not to mention the entire universe. He’s in charge of everything. Maybe, just maybe, he’s better at controlling things than we are.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, the Church’s preeminent teacher on spiritual discernment, gives us some practical help with this. He says in his work, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, that we shouldn’t first seek something of the world and then seek God. This would be dragging the end into subjection to the means, which orders our lives in a backwards fashion.

As an example of this, St. Ignatius points to the subject of one’s vocation—one’s calling to a certain state in life. He says, for instance, that we shouldn’t first decide that we’re going to marry and then decide how to serve God in marriage. First and foremost, we should ask God, “What do YOU want? How can I best serve you and praise you and thus save my own soul?” Then we have to listen, and this means being dedicated to a daily life of prayer. We may not get an answer right away or for a long time, but the most important thing we can do is keep our hearts open to God’s will, rather than telling him what to do.

In order to do this, St. Ignatius says we need to rid ourselves of our disordered attachments—things that take priority in our minds and lives over God’s desires for us. Whenever we say, “God you’d better give me this, or else,” this is a disordered attachment.

Surrendering our lives and our disordered attachments is anything but easy. Often we want what we want how we want it, and we want it now!

I wanted to get married. I really wanted to get married, and I was having no luck finding anyone. One day in my young adult years, a couple friends and I decided to go out to a bar in San Francisco. I don’t think we had ever made such an excursion together, but we were thinking, “This should be fun, and perhaps we’ll meet someone special there”—a truly dumb thought, to be honest. Trying to meet a special, holy Catholic guy, late at night in a seedy bar, is like trying to find a diamond in a box of Cheerios.

So we entered into a dark, smoky atmosphere, which felt as alive as desert sand. I looked around at the scattered men standing alone in the crowd, clutching their beers with feigned looks of self-importance and purpose. When I tried to talk to a couple of them, they avoided eye contact and jerked their heads to the side, as if something terribly exciting was just beside me. After about five minutes, I gave up hope of connecting with anyone new and tried to enliven the evening by teaching my friends Michael Jackson’s moonwalk. When I got home, tired and smelling like cigarette smoke, I plopped on my bed and thought, What am I doing? What was all that about? And that is when God spoke me. Not in audible words, but in my heart. His message was unmistakable: “Give it up.”

I knew just what he meant. He wanted me to give up my obsession with finding a husband and to stop worrying about it. I told him in tears, “But this is going to be so hard! Knowing that my will was not strong enough to surrender this desire, I forced myself to obey his wish immediately.

Late that night, I walked to a nearby open chapel, where a stunning, wood-carved, life-sized crucifix hung behind the altar. The chapel was dark. I was the only person there. Only the Lord was illuminated by a single light. Dropping to my knees before him, I said, “I don’t know if I can truly give this up. You are going to have to help me make this real.” Then with a trembling hand, I took out a small piece of paper and imagined the perfect husband. Placing the paper on the altar, I looked up at Jesus on the Cross, and said, “I give you this man because you’re more important than he is.” And then I wept. Taking two little slips of paper, I then imagined two perfect children kneeling in prayer, and with a silent, gut-wrenching cry, I placed them on the altar as well. Looking up at Jesus, I said, “I give you these two children because you’re more important than they are.” And then I wept.

Stunned by what I had just done, I went back to my room and collapsed onto my bed. What happened next has never left my memory. As I lay on my right side, my torso suddenly filled with a beautiful expansive sense of ecstasy and peace. “You’re here!” I said to God in my heart. I didn’t dare move for fear the sensation would go away. “Why are you giving me this feeling?” The answer that came was simple. He was thanking me for my offering and letting me know how pleased he was that I had surrendered to him what was most important to me in life.

It wasn’t easy and nor was I perfectly happy, but now I was free for God to do with me as he wished.

Anything can happen when we surrender our lives and our disordered attachments to God. I might have remained single. I might have become a Catholic sister. Whatever the path, whatever the days would bring, I knew that God would do what was best for my soul and for the salvation of the world. Sometimes what we release is replaced by a different gift we could have never imagined. Sometimes what we’ve surrendered comes back to us, and if it does, we can better know when it’s his will and not ours. In my case, God surprised me a couple years later with a husband and guess what – two kids.

Let us surrender to the fact that God really is the Lord of our lives.

Copyright 2013 Christine Watkins

“I also often asked myself: Why should I invent such a lie? If I were lying, this would make me an abnormal person. Even during communism, the doctors stated that we were normal. I had a nice life. I lived with my parents as the only child for nine years; they cherished me. Why would I want to turn my life upside down? Why bring turmoil, anxiety, agony and pain into my life – why? In my opinion, only an unstable person can do such a thing.”*

Since I needed no convincing, I saw no reason to join a pilgrimage even once, much less multiple times, like those odd repeat-pilgrims who perhaps had an over-abundance of free time, too much money, or a fanatical streak? Couldn’t I just get in my car and cruise to St. Barnabas Church just five minutes away from my home? After all, the Eucharist was there.

Be careful what you make fun of. I have since traveled to Medjugorje five times.

Each trip was an unexpected calling full of untold graces, practically ducktaped together with frequent flyer miles and faith. My first pilgrimage with my husband saved my marriage. On my second trip, God asked me directly to write a book of Medjugorje conversion stories, now a bestseller for Ave Maria Press called, Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession. The third time, I providentially met two people whose stories ended up gracing the book. I organized the fourth trip and gathered a group of friends who received heavenly gifts. The fifth time, ABC television planned to interview me there, so I hopped on a plane again and experienced that peace I’d always heard about—a sweet ecstasy that satisfies every longing, every possible desire of the human heart.

On those trips, I discovered that in Medjugorje, the miraculous is commonplace. The following are but some of the experiences of my family and friends alone: the miracle of the sun, where one can stare safely at it; the uncommon desire to pray for hours; the spontaneous healing from chronic, debilitating back pain; lightning striking earth in rainbow colors; a vertical light splitting the sky in two on a cloudless day, a fourteen-ton, twelve meter-high cement cross, free from all electricity, lit up and spinning like a top at the summit of Cross Mountain; a beating heart appearing in the host during Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament; the smell of roses where no roses or perfumes were present; atheists finding faith without foxholes; breast cancer healed; cures of debilitating depression and anxiety; golden clouds in the sky and a golden dust covering the earth. The millions of other people who have passed through Medjugorje would undoubtedly have more to share. . .

One never knows what will happen in Medjugorje, because Medjugorje is part Earth, part Heaven.  Even with the modern build up of hotels and religious knick knack stores at every turn to shelter and cater to the growing stream of pilgrims, Medjugorje captivated me. I didn’t know that a physical place on Earth could contain so much of heaven. Never before Medjugorje had I experienced such intense spiritual communion, such palpable belief, everywhere I looked. In Medjugorje, graces seemed to rain down in torrents, renewing parched souls with the living water Jesus offered to the woman at the well. I once heard a priest say, “Show me another place on earth besides Medjugorje where I can take teenagers for a week and they come home transformed, and I’ll take them there instead.”

The Mother of God has introduced herself in Medjugorje as the Queen of Peace, and she clearly desires to impart that peace to her children. The peace often granted to souls through Medjugorje is not that of a relaxing vacation, a human embrace, or a happy outcome. It is the peace of Philippians 4:7, which surpasses all human understanding and guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. I remember standing in front of St. James Church in Medjugorje, doused in peace, and thinking that there must be something I should be concerned about, but my mind refused to worry.

One particular moment of peace stands tall in my memory above the rest. After eating dinner at a restaurant where I sat near a table seating the three-person crew from ABC television, I left to walk a short block to the area behind St. James where hundreds of people sat outside in the warm summer night air, facing the Blessed Sacrament—a large Host carefully placed in a stunning monstrance circled by golden rays. As I walked into the midst of the Real Presence of Jesus, a multitude of prayers, and sweet live music, I felt overcome with a deeply peaceful, tingling, ecstatic joy that filled my heart to capacity. When I sat down to pray, that capacity somehow grew. Giddy waves of peace carried my heart off to heaven while it somehow remained in my chest. Off to the left, the sky flashed with lightning, but without a sound, as if the Holy Spirit were delighting in showing himself off to his people—perhaps he was.

Suddenly I became the one acting like a crazed fanatic. I promptly stood up and ran back toward the restaurant. If only the ABC crew could experience this! Surely then their hearts would be touched, and they could share with the world what was truly happening here at this holy site.

I bounded back into the restaurant trying to calm myself down. Still gasping for breath, I approached the crew’s table and exclaimed, hardly making sense: “You might want to see this. You might want to film this. The peace—the lightning with no thunder–the music, the multitudes. It’s so beautiful. It’s warm. It’s adoration. It’s what we Catholics do. Then looking at them with pleading eyes, I said, “You should go!”

They looked at me with courteous amusement , and then I left. They never budged. They hadn’t finished their beers and saw no reason to disturb their comfortable dinner. Without interest or faith or the desire to change, even one block is too far to travel.

Miracles are simply neglected sideshows when the soul is left untouched. As Fr. Jozo Zovko, OFM, the pastor of St. James church when the apparitions began, once said:

“In Medjugorje, the miracle is not so much in Our Lady’s apparitions or in the words she speaks to us, but in the pilgrim’s reply, who accepts to change his heart and life. That is the great miracle!

Take St Francis: the miracle was not that Jesus spoke to him, but in the fact that he gave up everything to become poor in everything.

In the Gospel we read of the rich young man who was called by Jesus. The miracle wasn’t that he saw Christ and heard his call; it would have been in his response, had he responded. But he preferred his riches to Jesus. That is a miracle which did not occur.

It is not a miracle for God to talk; it is normal. In Medjugorje it is the pilgrim who decides if a miracle will occur or not. All he has to do is to open his heart to respond to the call.”**

Medjugorje would mean nothing without the conversion of the human heart. My work gathering stories for the Full of Grace book introduced me to Medjugorje’s inner world, the world within each heart, as I wrote down some of the most amazing conversions I had ever heard: a former crack addict who experienced his own apparition of Mary in Medjugorje and is now completely free from his addiction; a lonely youth who found healing from abortion, depression, and anxiety; a Nobel Peace Prize who, with Mary’s help, rescues children living in the sewers of Colombia; a violent, homeless heroin addict, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic who is now a happy, sane, kind-loving family man; a former stripper who has considered becoming a nun; and a former atheist, who was me, caught up in serious sin and miraculously saved from imminent death through Mary’s Intercession. The book and subsequent talks I’ve given around the country have introduced me to hundreds of Medjugorje conversion stories, more than the mind can run after.

Such graces have to come from heaven. They can’t possibly come from man. As I encountered testimony after testimony, I saw how each conversion, healing, or a prayer answered ministered so perfectly to the individual that only an all-knowing, all-loving, Almighty God could manage such feats. No human being could weave such tapestries of exquisite experience, could manipulate lives with such life-altering results and reach the heart where only God can speak. Like seashells, or grains of sand, or snowflakes, each story was intricately unique, beautiful, and perfect—so clearly created by an infinitely fertile imagination. If souls say yes to what Mary is asking, they become a holy expression of their true selves. And they find true peace.

“There is only one danger alone for Medjugorje – that people will pass it by!”***

–Cardinal Hans Urs von Balthasar,

regarded by Pope Benedict XVI

as one of the greatest theologians of our time

Copyright 2013 Christine Watkins 

* http://www.medjugorjemiracles.com

** http://crownofstars.blogspot.com

*** Entire quote from Medjugorje and the Church by Denis Nolan: “The theology of Medjugorje rings true. I am convinced of its truth. Everything concerning Medjugorje is authentic from a Catholic point of view. All that happens there is so evident, so convincing! . . . There is only one danger alone for Medjugorje – that people will pass it by!”– Cardinal Hans Urs von Balthasar

Maria der Verkündigung by Antonello da Messina

Accurate discernment of God’s will in our lives requires a pondering heart. How often do we launch quickly and blindly into an activity, pleasure, or comment without first pondering in our heart whether God would have us do it? There is no better person to teach us this astute and peaceful discernment than Mary.

Even before the age of fourteen, when the Angel Gabriel dropped into her life like a lightning bolt, with a shocking invitation, she had mastered this sacred art of pondering with the heart. “She was greatly troubled at what was said,” but “pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” We are a highly reactive human race—running, avoiding, hiding, shunning–or screaming, attacking, hurting–when something disrupts or disturbs us. But Mary wasn’t this way. Although frightened, she turned immediately to pondering and prayer, stayed present in the moment, and with trusting submission to God’s holy will, said: “May it be done to me according to your word.”

Mary kept her troubled feelings to herself, sharing thoughts of her new situation with no one but God, until she would greet her cousin Elizabeth. Mary walked a little more thoughtfully through life than the rest of us, with more awareness of the Spirit within her and the everyday sights, sounds, and conversations of her environment. Artists do not often portray Mary as a deep thinker like St. Jerome. But the New Testament makes it clear that on any number of occasions and as a general rule, she took time to ponder in her heart before speaking or reacting—rejecting the temptation of assumptions and actions born of pain. Mary was willing to patiently and trustingly penetrate the meaning of opaque events, including the most disturbing of them all, the crucifixion of her Son.

What precisely does it mean to ponder in the heart? The word “heart” in the Hebrew of Mary’s time had none of the sentimental Hallmark card connotations as it has in English today, but referred to one’s whole self—body, mind, and spirit. As a Jewish woman who read Scripture and lived among Jewish men who learned Hebrew in the Nazareth synagogue, she likely understood through them this broader meaning.

Of the many human behaviors and qualities Mary models for us, learning to ponder in the “heart” may be the most important. To ponder this way can enable us to be who we’ve always longed to be, to do what we know in our depths is right and good for ourselves and for everyone else. This is a difficult calling, but God’s grace and Mary’s prayers are at our beck and call to see us through. This means living the Christian life of love.

Before we can release such beautiful potential into our lives and apply love to all the ways we spend our time, much spiritual work needs to be accomplished. Socrates said that “the unexamined life is not worth living.” Self-understanding provides the foundation of having the presence of mind to pause and think with love about oneself and the world and people around us. The fruits of integrity and self-respect become literally visible in the body, for the stronger the spirit and the more alive the conscience, the more we carry ourselves with poise and presence.

Honest questions aimed at our “hearts” can help us probe who we really are in the light of God. To name but a sampling, we might ask ourselves, Which virtues of mine are being severely tested right now? How can I spend time asking God to replenish me? Why am I spending time with this person—these people? Should I be with them? Is my spiritual practice working? Could I do more or go deeper? What activities keep me from prayer time and spending quality time with God? What brings me close to Him? If I were at the end of my life, what do I wish I would have done differently that I can still change now?

Let us invoke Mary’s presence and ask for her help. Providentially, the raw material for this work is provided through the seemingly mundane, but always profound events of daily life sprinkled with the holy. A day of drudgery pondered as a sacrificial gift to God can change everything. What might look to the non-reflective eye like a terribly poor man rushing his pregnant teenage wife into an unsanitary, cold, and smelly stable for her to give birth, can become what it truly is—a holy night of angelic beings, the timely arrive of gifts and kings, and God becoming man.

When we learn to ponder things as Mary does, the most ordinary or difficult events become numinous, and our life’s words and deeds bring heaven to earth.

image credit

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

The Soul of Sound and Screen

We human beings become, in part, what our senses consume. Razor sharp discernment is needed to navigate through the spiritually noxious influences we consume through the mediums of movies, television, and music. With unholy images pounded into our minds, and unholy thoughts stirred into our senses and souls, many of us are unknowingly drinking a daily dose of poison, by tuning into the light and sound waves around us.

Just the simple modern-day act of turning on the T.V. today can make it hard for us to discern and follow the will of God for our lives. As St. Paul writes in Philippians 4:8, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” But how can we possibly meditate on light streams from heaven, while at the same time, entertaining darkness within the world?

Evil disguises itself as something good, true, attractive, pleasurable, interesting, or exciting, so that we human beings will gravitate towards it, like moths to a lethal flame. Evil gains its power, when its true nature remains disguised and hidden. But unmasked, it loses ground, scurrying to escape the light and return to a dark corner, fearful of being stripped of its false promises and deceit, exposed for what it is, and banished. With this power of exposure in mind, I hope to pull back the attractive veil of modern music and entertainment, to show more clearly that all that glistens isn’t gold.

Popular music today is doused with invisible, tasteless poison, often poured into a cup of pure, cool, fun. The iGoogle page, which pops up on my computer, features a new video every couple of days, and for a temporary escape from work, I clicked on the You Tube video of a new teen boy band’s latest hit, “Let’s Live While We’re Young.” Amidst scenes of wholesome outdoor, gleeful playfulness, the boys sang:

“Hey girl I’m waiting on yah, I’m waiting on yah. Come on and let me sneak you out. And have a celebration, a celebration. The music up the window’s down. Yeah, we’ll be doing what we do, just pretending that were cool, and we know it too (know it too). Yeah, we’ll keep doing what we do, just pretending that were cool, so tonight, let’s go crazy, crazy, crazy ’till we see the sun. I know we’ve only met, but let’s pretend it’s love, and never, never, never stop for anyone. Tonight let’s get some. And live while were young. Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh. Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh. And live while were young.”

The band was called One Direction, and with all the teen fun unmasked, one can see which direction they’re headed. They’re unknowingly glorifying and spreading the joy of sin, which can sever a soul from its inheritance with God, potentially forever. But it’s just a harmless beebop song, right? I found my foot tapping to it. My kid can listen to it on her iPod, no problem. . .right?

When tuning into a major radio station, one that funnels the pop and rock songs of the day, will we hear the name of the Lord, Jesus Christ mentioned? Will we listen to lyrics about living a wholesome, holy life? Will we ever sing to the tune of a top 40 hit, extolling poverty, chastity, and obedience?

Hollywood is a similar stronghold of the ungodly. The big cinema and television corporations, about twenty or so of them, refuse to have the name Jesus Christ mentioned within the movies and programs they produce. A Hollywood script may possess the words “saint,” or “God,” or “heaven,” or “angel,” but not “Jesus Christ,” unless it is used as a curse word. The spirit moving behind-the-scenes, helping to produce the music, images, and shows, to which we are constantly exposed, is highly active and cunning. It knows us well. It knows we are deeply affected by what we see and hear in the music and entertainment industry, so much so that nowadays young people, by and large, seek to emulate the stars, not the saints.

A recent study, to be published in a forthcoming edition of Psychological Science, has found that exposure to sexual content in movies increases the chances of children adopting risky behavior later in life. Ross O’Hara, one of the authors of the study, has said, “Adolescents who are exposed to more sexual content in movies start having sex at younger ages, have more sexual partners,” and, she adds, they are more likely to perform risky behaviors with casual sexual partners.

An article from Medical Daily also points out that other studies have shown that teen-centered films almost always have sexual content in them. And to 57 percent of American children, media is the only source available to get sex-related information and sometimes about how to deal with a complex emotional problem. Thus teens, at times, can’t differentiate between reality and fiction, according to the Association for Psychological Science.

In the 2008 James Bond film, Casino Royale, parents and their open-mouthed children found themselves staring at a bloodied Bond, stripped naked and tied to a chair, being tortured by having his genitals beaten with a length of rope. The English movie critic, Jenny McCartney, wrote of her friend’s dismay over witnessing his two young boys, aged nine and seven, diligently re-enacting the torture scene with an outsize teddy bear strapped to a chair and a flail constructed from a knotted dressing-gown cord.* The recent, July 21, 2012, midnight shooting massacre, by James Holmes, in Aurora, Colorado, during a screening of the violent Batman movie, the Dark Night Rises, points to a graphic media violence moving swiftly from fiction to fact, particularly among the mentally unstable. Investigators reportedly found a Batman mask in the attacker’s booby-trapped apartment. Three other men were arrested separately during or after screenings of the same film, for dangerously threatening behavior related to it.* Would a showing of “The Donut Man,” from EWTN, singing about Christian virtues, spark the same kind of response?

A United Kingdom organization, engagingly called CUT, for Catholics Unplug your Televisions, is one group of trying to raise awareness of the tentacles reaching out to us through the screen. St. Padre Pio, they point out, described the TV as Satan’s tabernacle. Also, St. Elizabeth Seton, the first United States-born canonized saint in the Roman Catholic Church (1774–1821) is said to have had a prophetic vision of the 20th century, in which she saw a black box from which Satan would enter people’s homes. CUT’s logo shows St. Michael the archangel, in his classic ready-for-battle position, about to lunge his spear into Satan, as he emerges from a flat-screened (possibly even HD) television set.

I don’t need a Ph.D. or the gift of discernment of spirits to notice that after watching a video on Jesus, my young son walks over to me and gives me a hug or a kiss, and after watching the TV show Power Rangers, he walks over and starts kicking me in my shins.

I don’t need to read a study to support my inward observation of inspiration to holiness after watching a video on the life of the saints, and left feeling empty, with unfulfilled longings, unsettled even rattled inside after, after unsavory media exposure.

In just a few short years, we have travelled many leagues away from innocence. Sin, in entertainment, is the new normal. Not only do we tolerate it, we defend it. We demand it. We pay for it. We make time for it.

If all Christians were to turn off our television sets, ignore certain movies and songs, we could shut down the unsavory aspects of television programming, the music industry, and Hollywood itself, in a very short time.

Little boys have always played with swords and guns. People have always been sexually drawn to one another. But they have not always been bombarded with sexual fireworks and exploding firearms, from a tender, innocent age onward. For these innovations, we must thank the music industry and Hollywood, the industrious factories of dreams, now frequently devoted to churning out nightmares.

The poet WB Yeats once wrote, “In dreams begins responsibility,” yet the power brokers of entertainment will never take responsibility for their most brutal and sensual dreams, so long as the paying public still flocks to the theater of lust and cruelty.

Let us unplug ourselves and pray. Let us turn off the light of the screen and tune into the real Light of the world. All the entertainment we could ever want–is in the Light of the One Who loves us most. When we reach the end of our lives, who is going to coil in regret, wailing, “Oh no! I should have watched more T.V.!” Now is the time to fill our days with God, so that come the end of our lives, we will look back with gratitude and joy over how we spent our precious little time on earth, staying glued to the only reality show worth tuning into . . . Almighty God.

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

*Medical Daily
Sexual Content in Movies May Predict Teen Sexual Behavior
By Amber Moore | Jul 18, 2012 08:40 AM EDT
http://www.medicaldaily.com/articles/10926/20120718/sexual-content-media-teens-u-s.htm#wUVOqShWZkC676fy.99

* International Business Times
Colorado Batman Massacre: Three Arrests as Copycat Hysteria Spreads after Dark Knight Rises Shootings: Three men arrested over separate incidents linked to Batman screening slaughter in Aurora
By Gianluca Mezzofiore: | July 24, 2012 3:35 PM GMT
http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/articles/366274/20120724/colorado-massacre-shooting-aurora-dark-knight-rises.htm

*Red Ice Creations: A Beacon of Sanity from Northern Europe
Our attitude to violence is beyond a joke as new Batman film, The Dark Knight, shows (2008): The new Batman film reaches new levels of brutality, so why are we letting children watch it? Jenny McCartney looks at a society seduced by sadism.
By Jenny McCartney | July 20, 2012 Telegraph.co.uk
http://redicecreations.com/article.php?id=20800

Jesus Wants to be First

Jesus wants to be first. When we don’t make Jesus the first priority in our lives, our relationship with Him suffers. Just like in a marriage, when a wife gets distracted and makes other things, besides God, in her life more important than her husband, or a husband makes things in his life more important than his wife, the relationship can grow distant and estranged. The following story exemplifies this dynamic.

A husband came home from work one day and said, “Hi honey, how are you?”

“Fine,” said his wife tersely, which of course, meant, “I’m not fine.”

Then he asked, “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No,” which, of course meant, “Yes.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” which meant something.

Then she blurted out, “You never pay attention to me. You’re always bowling or hunting or working. I’m the last thing you ever think of during your day, and you don’t spend any time with me!”

So the husband thought about it, and thought about it, and said, excitedly, “Honey, don’t worry! It’s okay! You can go hunting with me!”

The wife said, “Oh okay,” which really meant, “No way in hell.”

Needless to say, that relationship suffered.

So this man didn’t want to give up his distractions, in order to pay more attention to his wife. He wanted to keep his distractions and try to fit her into them.

Sometimes we do the same thing with Jesus. We expect him to come along with us, as we busy ourselves with distractions, rather than put our distractions aside and give Him our focused time and attention.

Any relationship takes work, focused work, loving work, sometimes hard work, and our relationship with Our Lord is no exception.

At my friend’s wedding, I heard an African priest tell the following story about a couple from his homeland. He said that a husband came home to his wife and said, “I’m done with this relationship. I want you to leave and go back home to live with your parents. Take everything you love in the house with you, if you want. Take it, and just go!” Then he fell over drunk and passed out.

So the wife started taking her favorite things from the house and bringing them to her parents’ house. Then she took a blanket and wrapped up her husband in it, and took him to her parents house, too. The next day, he woke up in his in-laws’ house and said, “Hey, what the heck’s going on? Why am I here?”

Then she told him what he’d said the night before, that he had told her to leave and take with her everything she loved. Then she said, “And the thing I love the most is you.”

A wonderful thing happened to them after that. Their relationship healed greatly, because as hard as it was for her to do, the wife put her husband first.

This story is not to compare Jesus to a drunk, belligerent husband, but to say that when we make Jesus a priority in our lives, our relationship with Him heals and strengthens, and can become the marriage of hearts that God yearns for it to be.

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins 

The Importance of Gentleness Towards Ourselves

Patience with self is every bit as important as patience with others. Self-critique, under a loving eye, is the God-given gift of our conscience, while self-criticism is a tool used against us, stirred up in the heart of the enemy, and thrown at us without respect or care. A stark criticism of self can rise from even the littlest misstep, bury us under endless accusations, and let us know why there is no way we are going to make it.

Negative self-concepts and remembering too clearly plagues even the most mentally balanced person. Why recall and mull over past mistakes? Why not, instead, ask God to transform that mistake into our own holiness and the salvation of others, as only He can do? Why not cooperate with Him to use our past mistakes for good? For when we dig into yourself only to punish, we cooperate not with the God Who loves us, but with the enemy of souls. And some of the things we have labeled mistakes, may not have been such at all, but the refining of our illiterate nature.

St. Frances de Sales speaks eloquently against the upset over one’s faults, in Chapter 9 of Introduction to the Devout Life:

“One of the first applications of gentleness is to practice it toward ourselves. We ought not to become overly disturbed with ourselves because of our imperfections. Even though it is natural for us to be displeased and confused when we commit faults, we must guard against too strong a disappointment, chagrin and anger because of them. Many are at fault in this: They become enraged at being angry, disturbed at being disturbed and vexed at being vexed!

In this way their heart remains steeped in and overwhelmed by anger. It may seem that the second anger destroys the first, but the contrary is the case, for it opens the door to a new anger as soon as an opportunity presents itself. These angers, spites and rancors against oneself tend to pride and have no origin other than self-love which is disturbed and troubled at seeing its own imperfection.

Our displeasure at our faults must be calm, peaceful and firm. A judge’s sentence is much more efficaciously rendered when it is delivered reasonably and peacefully. When however, he judges with impetuosity and passion, he does so less according to the actual fault committed than according to his mood. We too correct ourselves better by a calm and lasting repentance than by one that is bitter and angry, especially since such a repentance is not always proportionate to the gravity of the fault, but rather is frequently inclined in the direction of our personal preferences.

In practice, the one who esteems chastity will be tremendously upset by the least fault against this virtue, but will only laugh off a serious slander. On the other hand, the one who detests slander will reproach himself for the least word against his neighbor, but will be unconcerned about a fault against chastity. Such people form their conscience not with reason but with passion.

Believe me, Philothea, a parent’s gentle and affectionate corrections are far more persuasive than those made with anger and wrath. The same is true for our heart when it has fallen into some fault. Let us pick it up gently and tranquilly, encouraging its amendment with more compassion because of its frailty than passion directed against its fault. Repentance resulting from this approach will be far more profound than one made as a result of burning anger.”

Yes, mistakes are made, errors flash like headache-inducing strobe lights, but now it is time to stop the foolishness and learn. Beating oneself up will never perform the miracle of what true repentance and gentleness towards oneself can accomplish. It doesn’t take a genius to know that hammering repeatedly on something soft and vulnerable and full of shame will not make it stronger, but render it weak and pining for the gentleness it refuses to give itself. Try to catch yourself next time your mind condemns you, like you might catch your fingers drumming on a table, wondering why you were doing it in the first place–then draw back and walk away.

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

The One Thing You Should Demand of God

How many of us want to be fulfilled and deeply content in this life? How many of us want to bypass purgatory altogether at the end of our lives and walk straight through the gates of Paradise and into eternal joy?

Does anyone truly want to say, “No,” to this? If your answer is, “I want to!” then there is one demand you must make of God, and you must mean it. Tell Him, with sincerity of heart and a forcefulness of purpose, “God, make me into a saint.”

What ideas does this request conjure up for you? Does it incite fear? Are there shadows, lurking in your mind, of being tortured on the rack? –burned at the stake? –abandoned, ostracized, or exiled? –crucified upside down? While it is true that eleven of the apostles were martyred, and one, St. John the Evangelist, was imprisoned, does this also mean that these men lived sad and unfulfilled lives? Hardly!

If we believe that sainthood means suffering and misery, then we will avoid it at all costs. If our hearts cringe at the idea of sanctification, let us take the plank out of our eyes, which blinds us to what sainthood really means.

What is sainthood, in truth? Sainthood is allowing the divine spark of God to live in us so brightly that we become the fullness of who we were created to be. Sainthood is becoming, on earth, the person we will be in heaven. We become like Jesus Christ. While we may never be known by the world, or canonized by the church–very few are, our very being becomes heaven’s delight and hope.

When we think of the life of Christ, our fears can plummet into the dark question, “But I don’t want to suffer!–to be crucified!” The passion, from the Garden of Gethsemane to Golgotha, was bitterly horrible, but how long did it last, in comparison to the length of Jesus’ life? –Less than twenty-four hours, versus thirty-three years. And that life of His, those years growing up in a loving home in Nazareth, sharing with others the love in His heart at all times and places, and in His last three years of public ministry, performing miracle after miracle, bringing hope where there was despair, faith where there was fear, food where there was hunger, life where there was death–what joy, what purpose, what fulfillment animated that life!

Suffering, when endured for the sake of Christ, can be bearable, even joyful. Sainthood means finding a spark of joy, even in difficulties and pain, because suffering out of love, for the sake of saving souls, snuffs out the power of Satan, pulls down a torrent of grace upon the world, and at times, brings supernatural joy into the soul–a joy that stupefies and perplexes the world. Those who have chosen sanctity in life, were not, and are not, unhappy people.

St. Paul revealed to us the joy of a holy life, joy which can only come from God. When he was imprisoned in a cell and chained to it, hated and persecuted, St. Paul wrote to the community of Christians in Philippi: “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (Phil 4: 4) St. Paul is clearly sharing from the experience of his own inner life with God. Do his words reveal a sad, disheartened, miserable man? Clearly not. Yet he lived from one suffering to the next, having been flogged, stoned, beaten with rods, and shipwrecked; threatened by rivers, bandits, Jews, Gentiles, and false brothers; having gone without sleep, worked without rest, in the extreme cold and heat, sometimes without food, drink, or clothing. (2 Cor 23-27)

How is it possible for St. Paul to speak of rejoicing always? In the following passage, St. Paul speaks of the “secret” of his contentment. First, in Philippians 4: 10-13, when thanking the community in Philippi, he writes:

I rejoice greatly in the Lord that at last you have renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you have been concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

What is this secret? It is plain to see in the Scriptures, but very few try to follow it. Fear clouds our minds, trust falls short, and life’s burdens convince us it’s not possible for us or worth pursuing. But the secret is obvious. It is sanctity.

Sanctity means living the precepts of the Church of God, following His commandments, praying without ceasing, as St. Paul prescribes in the following passage from Philippians:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me–put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Phil 4: 4-9)

And again St. Paul stresses at the end of his letter to the Thessalonians:

Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus . . . May the God of peace himself make you perfectly holy and may you entirely, spirit, soul, and body, be preserved blameless for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will also accomplish it. (2 Thes 5: 16-18; 23-24)

If we pray for holiness, the Lord will accomplish it. People who purposefully decide not to be saintly believe they are holding onto some type or comfort and joy, or avoiding some kind of suffering. Instead, they are gripping a piece of misery. They put a limit on how much they will let God’s love consume them, and how much they will love Him in return. They put a limit on love.

Any temporary suffering we incur by doing God’s will in this life is little to nothing compared with the suffering we will undergo in the next, if we thwart God’s will. The truth of the matter is, if we choose not to be a saint, we choose to suffer more and for the wrong reasons. If we think that being a saint means ultimately enduring more suffering, we have been fooled. Deciding to fall short of sainthood is deciding to hold onto sin, which only brings darkness and despair, benefitting only the devil and his minions. Deciding to fall short of sainthood, is deciding not to pass through the gates of paradise at the end of this life, since nothing but pure, unadulterated love enters into paradise. Why would we willfully choose this? Yet this is exactly what we do, when we make something less than sanctity our goal. When we say purgatory is the best we can do, we are selling ourselves and God short. We aim high, and worst case scenario, we’ll end up in purgatory. We aim at purgatory, and well, we might miss. The only thing holding us back from heaven is ourselves, for God’s will is to take us to the heights.

Have you told God to make you into a saint? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. It is who you really are.

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

How to Pray

I am quite sure that I sometimes look miserable when I’m praying. My worries and troubles, not to mention rampant societal ills, can invade my thoughts, and twist my prayer time into drudgery and pain.

This is not true prayer.

Many fall into this trap and miss the joy, release, reassurance, and love that prayer can give to us. We dodge the rays of light, which God wishes to shine into our soul, because we focus on ourselves: our lives, worries, problems, and woes. When we focus on self, God gets cast aside. When self comes first in prayer, and God follows behind, our hearts actually close to God’s grace, and His light comes up against a barrier. Have you ever gone to Mass and come away feeling worse than when it began? When this happens, we might ask ourselves, “How was I praying?” or “Was I praying at all?”

Sometimes we think we have been praying extensively and deeply, when in fact, we’ve just been worrying extensively and deeply. The most repeated message in all of Holy Scripture is, “Do not fear” . . . “Do not worry.” God wishes these words, His words, to resound throughout our being, reaching the very marrow of our bones, the tissue of our muscles, the air sacs of our lungs, the neurotransmitters of our brain, and most importantly, the seat of our soul. We can certainly ask God for what we need and want, but then we’re called to release the desire into His hands–with trust, not worry. Praying Philippians 4:6-7, perhaps even memorizing this pericope, can help drive this message into our hearts: “Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

When we focus on God in prayer, when we look past ourselves and the world, and focus on Him, that’s when our very souls open up and an abundance of grace enters us, deep within. Look to Jesus, look to the Father, look to the Holy Spirit. Place yourself within or beside God. Turn your heart towards His presence. See Him there next to you. Call out to the Holy Spirit, who will always guide you deep into prayer of the heart. “. . . the Spirit comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings (Romans 8:26).

Begin your prayer, by asking the Holy Spirit to come to your aid. You might say, “Holy Spirit, I find it difficult to pray. I feel distracted/disinterested/weak/exhausted/frustrated . . . and I need your help. Only with your grace, can I come into contact with You, otherwise I fall easily into thoughts about myself/my family/relationships/the world . . . Help me to pray properly, and focus on You/the Father/the Son/the Trinity, so I might receive all the graces You wish to give me.”

Once we seek the Spirit’s help in prayer, God’s joy can fill us, and we will experience prayer, as it really is–a gift of unparalleled love. If prayer feels like a burden, a duty, or a chore to check off on a to do list, then our prayer is self-centered and not God-centered. So, I encourage you, as I encourage myself, to look beyond this earth-bound existence, beyond the limits human understanding and human love, and reach up to heaven in your prayer. Engage your heart. Tell God you love Him and that you want His love. Prayer is meant to be a joyful gift. If it is never that way, look inward and see. Are you thinking of God in your prayers, or thinking of yourself?

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

Priests are the Bridge

If anyone is really privileged for Our Lady, we can speak about our priests, because she never said what they should do. She always talks about what we should do for them. They do not need you to judge and criticize them; they need your prayers and your love, because God will judge them as they were as priests, but God will judge you the way you treated your priests.

Our Lady says if you lose respect toward your priests, you will lose respect for your Church and for your God, as well. [In] the same way, during every second of the month apparition, she always says something about the importance of priests. For example, when she gives us her blessing, she says, “I am giving you my motherly blessing, but the greatest blessing you can receive on earth is the blessing that comes from your priests. When they bless you, it is my Son, Himself, blessing you.”

She also says, “Do not forget to pray for your shepherds. Their priestly hands are blessed by my Son.” That is why I am kindly asking of you, when you go back to your parishes, show to the others how we should respect our priests. If your priest is not doing [things] the way you think he should, do not judge him around. Take the rosary and pray to dear God for him. That would be the way to help him, and not to judge, because in this world that we live in, people judge and criticize so much, but there is so little love, and Our Lady desires that what we [all] may be seen through love and not to take into our own hands what only Our Heavenly Father, God, is supposed to do.

I’m sorry I cannot share with you more of what is supposed to happen [in the future], but I can tell you one thing. We have this time we are living in right now, and we have the time of the triumph of Our Lady’s heart. Between these two times, there is a bridge, and that bridge is our priests. That is why Our Lady insists so much that we pray for them, because that bridge needs to be strong enough for every one of us to cross it–because Our Lady said, “Alongside them [the priests], I will triumph,” which means that without priests, there is no triumph of Our Lady’s heart.

Just as in her message yesterday, Our Lady said not to judge our priests and not to forget that our Heavenly Father chose them. It is one thing for me to say what she said, but the expression of her face tells much more. I would say that she meant, “How do you dare to judge, because God is the one who is supposed to do it.” How can we take into our own hands what only God Himself is supposed to do? Because if God invited the priests, God will be the judge. Who are we to do it?

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

Divine Mercy Sunday, perhaps God’s greatest gift of our time.

In the 1930’s Our Lord Jesus requested through Saint Faustina Kowalska that a Feast of Mercy be established and solemnly celebrated in His Church on the First Sunday after Easter every year. The Lord said that this feast would be the “last hope of salvation.”

Divine Mercy Sunday will be celebrated April 15, 2012. The great promise of this day is the forgiveness of all sins and punishment due to sin for anyone who would go to Confession and receive Jesus in Holy Communion, on this very special Feast. According to Divine Mercy Productions, one may receive the Sacrament of Confession, also known as Reconciliation, twenty days before or after Divine Mercy Sunday.

In the year 2000, after many years of study by the Catholic Church, Pope John Paul II, officially established this Feast of Divine Mercy and named it Divine Mercy Sunday. He died on the very vigil day of this feast and was beatified on May 1, 2011, on that same feast!

Why would Jesus offer us something so great right now? Jesus told St. Faustina that she was to prepare the world for His Second Coming and that He would be pouring out His Mercy in great abundance before He comes again as the Just Judge and as a very last hope of salvation.

From the Diary of S. Faustina, 699, Jesus said: “On that day the very depths of My tender mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the fount of My mercy. The soul that will go to Confession and receive Holy Communion shall obtain complete forgiveness of sins and punishment. On that day all the divine floodgates through which grace flow are opened. Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, even though its sins be as scarlet. My mercy is so great that no mind, be it of man or of angel, will be able to fathom it throughout all eternity.”

In Saint Faustina’s diary, she recorded that Jesus also indicated that He Himself is there in the confessional. Jesus told her, “When you approach the confessional, know this, that I Myself am waiting there for you. I am only hidden by the priest, but I Myself act in your soul. Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy. Tell souls that from this fount of mercy souls draw graces solely with the vessel of trust. If their trust is great, there is no limit to My generosity.” (1602)

Jesus knew that people would really need to hear these words of re-assurance today, so He went on to say “Come with faith to the feet of My representative…and make your confession before Me. The person of the priest is, for Me, only a screen. Never analyze what sort of a priest that I am making use of; open your soul in confession as you would to Me, and I will fill it with My light.” (1725) “Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy.” (1602)

Many feel that their sins are unforgivable but, Jesus said, “Were a soul like a decaying corpse, so that from a human standpoint, there would be no hope of restoration and everything would already be lost, it is not so with God. The miracle of Divine Mercy restores that soul in full. In the Tribunal of Mercy (the great sacrament of Confession) …the greatest miracles take place and are incessantly repeated.” (1448) “Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy.” (1602)

“Oh, how miserable are those who do not take advantage of the miracle of God’s mercy!  You will call out in vain, but it will be too late.” (1448) “Tell aching mankind to snuggle close to My merciful Heart, and I will fill it with peace.”  (1074) “There is no misery that could be a match for My mercy.” (1273)

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

“God is love (1 John 4:8b)”. And He loves YOU.

He loved us first: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son. . .(John 3:16).” The felt sense of this truth first moves our hearts, inspiring us to then love Him in return and seek out His will. Our acceptance of His love, so glorious that it defies description, yet so deeply personal that no two people ever experience it the same, grounds our discernment in truth. Knowledge of God’s love is the canvas onto which all holy choices are painted.

Knowing, feeling, experiencing the love of another is as essential to the life of our soul, as air, water, and food is to the body. A recent article in Psychology Today tells us: “Babies who are not held and nuzzled and hugged enough will literally stop growing and–if the situation lasts long enough, even if they are receiving proper nutrition–die.”*

Mary Magdalene’s clinging to the Resurrected Jesus, outside His empty tomb, is the grasp of every human being who has ever found real love. To be in the full presence of Love Itself is to die to any other need or desire and want nothing more.

Yet even with our intrinsic and fierce need to be loved, many Christians do not experience, feel, or know God’s immeasurable love for them. Without this essential lifeline to God, personal discernment of God’s desires can skew and warp under the strain of a heart, starved for God’s life-giving rays. If we don’t find love in God, we’re going to look for it somewhere else less trustworthy. If we don’t feel loved by God, the practice of faith becomes arduous, sometimes even scary, with no place to lay our head and rest our weary mind and heart. If we don’t see God as pure love, then we can’t completely trust Him, and therefore cast Him off into the distant parameters of our lives, inviting Him in only when necessary, or worse, turning our anger toward Him, secretly seeing Him as the enemy.

One prominent hindrance to our perception of God as love lies in our projection of one or both of our parents or primary caregivers, onto the character of God.

When we were children, our primary caregivers equaled our world. The owners of the hands and voices that fed and cared for us, when we were infants, had almost complete control over whether we lived or died. They helped us to grow, introduced us to the world, shaped our personality, and instilled within us comfort or fear, acceptance or rejection, or a tangled confusion of mixed signals. Those people were like God to us. And now, sometimes, in our unconscious mind, God is like them.

If, for instance, the qualities of our earthly father blended with the true character of God the Father, who is kind, loving, merciful, just, fair, capable, powerful, wise, selfless, faithful, awe-inspiring, humorous, humble, respectful, protecting, nurturing, consistent, patient, long-suffering, trustworthy, holy, righteous, and always there, then accepting the love of God the Father might come as easy as accepting a canteen of cool water in a parched desert.

But if our father was inconsiderate, selfish, judgmental, punishing, unforgiving, unstable, untrustworthy, exacting, punishing, absent, fickle, addicted, high, drunk, angry, disrespectful, abandoning, abusive, untruthful, uncaring, aloof, cold, sporadic, abusive, dangerous, impatient or simply not there, then jumping into the arms of our Father in Heaven for comfort comes as easy as throwing ourselves onto a rusty bed of nails.

Our mother’s personality can be projected onto God, as well, and onto the Blessed Mother. And if we had or have two parents or caregivers, neither of whom showed us love, we needn’t fear. God will come to us Himself, especially if we turn our souls towards His light, and He will give us an entirely new experience of what love is.

A friend of mine, who felt terribly unhappy growing up with a raging alcoholic father and a heartless mother, and who was molested for seven years by her father’s good friend–a Methodist youth minister, said this about how she discovered God’s love:

“I started going to the Catholic Church in a desperate search for safety. Even though I did not understand Catholicism and didn’t believe in its moral teachings, I somehow grasped that God was there. It was part of my childhood—the only thing I knew. I walked back into the Catholic Church, and for the first time, God revealed himself to me personally—as love. As I sat in the pew, Jesus, Himself, began talking to me sweetly in my soul. I didn’t know, at the time, how unusual it was to actually hear His voice. When He spoke, I felt His great, yet gentle passion for me, which stirred in the center of my chest. Before then, I didn’t know what it felt like to be loved. I didn’t think such intimacy was possible from the Lord—His feelings for me were so warm and personal and traveled so deep into my soul, reaching places I didn’t know lived inside of me. I had always thought of God as angry, far away, judging, keeping track of my wrongs and metering out just punishment. I never knew he was sweet!—possessing a sweetness so intense, it sometimes scared me.

Because Jesus’ Incarnation was male, when I felt His love piercing my heart, at times it sparked an irrational fear that the intimacy would turn into abuse. The words “I love you” from the man who molested me meant the precursor to something ugly, so when Jesus drew intimately close, I felt scared and asked his mother, Mary, to keep me safe. But with gentle kindness, Jesus always reassured me He would never, ever hurt me. Through His words, He guided me with great care, like an adoring father with his toddler girl.”

Whenever bad things happen to us, God never rejoices. Far from it. He suffers, He bleeds, He writhes on the cross, along with us, and with any terrible event, inserts Himself directly into the midst of it, taking all the poisoned arrows into Himself that he possibly can. And if some of the arrows hit us, He immediately comes to our aid to console, heal, encourage, support, and guide. A God who likes to see a child beaten, or a loving single mother of five suffer an untimely death, is no God at all. There is a fallen angel who rejoices in such things, and his name is Satan. He hides behind the scenes, blocked from the consciousness of the masses, instigating all the evil in the world; then once evil happens, he whispers in our ears that God is to blame for it. And we fall for this lie, all the time! But when we push God away and blame the only source of love and light in the there is, what are we left with? Who lives outside the love and light of God? What company do we now keep?

A woman named Sarah, who also suffered through a brutal childhood, used to come to me for spiritual direction. Brought up by a physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive mother, who singlehandedly raised her and her four young siblings, because her father abandoned the family, Sarah found a home in the Catholic Church. But she struggled to see God as love. Then one day, she said to me, beaming, “I just had the most extraordinary experience at Mass!” While there, she realize that she had always blamed God for her terrible upbringing, and made her earthly father out to be the good parent in her life. But this was only a shield of denial she used, when growing up, to protect her heart. Her mother had always spoken harshly of her father, but Sarah defended him as good, out of a sincere need to have at least one good parent. Then in her adult life, Sarah suddenly realized, “My father wasn’t good. My father abandoned my mom, and me, and my siblings, and never did anything for us, leaving us in poverty and misery! My father did this to us, not my Heavenly Father!” With this realization, scales fell from her eyes, and a hard shell broke away from her heart. While sitting in Mass, staring upward at a majestic image of God the Father, streaming rays of love emanated from Him and washed through her in waves of ecstasy, causing her heart to soar and almost burst with an expansive, sweet love.

As a good Father, God looks down upon His children with a love far more vast and intimate than any parent has ever had for their child.
As a good Father, He longs to embrace His children and tell them He loves them.
As a good Father, He delights in spoiling His children with little gifts of love.
As a good Father, He desires to show His children the safest and surest path for them to walk.
As a good Father, He looks to the future for His children and hopes that it will bring the best for them.
As a good Father, He lets His children walk their own way, but gives His loving advice to guide them.
As a good Father, He is hurt when His children are hurt. He is sad when His children are sad, and He grieves when His children do wrong.
As a good Father, He always forgives them.
As a good Father, He always looks to bring His children home and waits for His children to come to Him.
As a good Father, He always wonders when the next visit will be and longs for His children’s love.
As a good Father, He waits patiently for the day His children overcome their selfishness and become the true persons He knows them to be.
As a good Father, He longs for the day when His children come home safely, and are forever in His arms.

My three year old will run off and play, exploring the world, and then come running back to me and hold my leg. Then he’ll venture off again, looking back, every so often, to make sure I’m still there, and run back again to hold my leg. I love it when he does that. I love to feel the pressure of his little body, and his cute pudgy arms clinging to me. He knows I’m safe. He knows I’m there. He knows I love him.

*”Born for Love: Empathy, the Brain, and Human Connections,” by Szalavits and Perry, Psychology Today: March 1, 20110. http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/born-love/201003/touching-empathy

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

Signs are tricky. As a spiritual director and licensed clinical social worker of many years, I have journeyed with people who have followed signs from God, as sure and trustworthy as the Risen Jesus on the road to Emmaus, and I have tried to deter people, as they cling to signs of their own making, or worse, of the devil’s design.

True signs from heaven come to warn, deter, console, enlighten, encourage, confirm, instruct, direct us, or to signify God’s saving presence for the burgeoning of faith: “They went forth and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.”–Mark 16:20

In an divine effort to wake up the soul, genuine signs often appear exquisitely tailored to the attention of each unique human person. The North Star spoke to the wise men, but the angels spoke to the shepherds, and a dream spoke to St. Joseph. What catches your eye, or perks your ear, or floods your emotions, I may not even notice.

The most trustworthy signs come unexpectedly and without the asking, and they can strike a thousand different chords in our hearts: from delightful, sweet and serendipitous, to odd, disturbing, even horrifying. In the following excerpt from the book, Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing, a man named Jaime Jaramillo, who became a Nobel Peace Prize Nominee, received his life’s calling through a tragic occurrence:

As I walked along, a Fisher Price toy box decorated with the picture of a doll suddenly fell onto the road from a passing car. A group of street children noticed it and immediately ran into the street. A little girl reached it first, and with a look of triumphant glee, she lifted up the box above her head. Her eyes met mine, and the expression on her face said clearly, “Look what I found!” Happy and radiant, she continued to stare directly at me, smiling broadly, and I smiled back—neither of us aware that a large truck was advancing toward her at an alarming speed. The truck driver slammed on the brakes, but it was already too late: the right side of his trailer crushed her against the pavement. Seized with sorrow, I stepped toward that heart-wrenching scene. Next to her dead body lay the toy box. It was empty.

That empty Fisher Price toy box was a divine sign for me. In that moment, I began to understand my mission in this world.

With all the grief, resentment, and anger that I felt, I went to a shopping center and purchased a Santa Claus costume. Then after lifting a sack of a hundred cheap presents onto my back, I walked out into the streets as Saint Nick to distribute the gifts to the children of the streets. . .

. . .Thus was born, on that Christmas in 1973, la Fundación Niños de los Andes (Foundation for the Children of the Andes), a foundation I still help run that rescues, raises, and rehabilitates street children.

It takes an open heart, a beautiful heart, a malleable and obedient heart to notice the signs God sends, and then to swell with courage or gratitude in response.

Even then, signs can be tricky. To know if God is the one reaching out to communicate requires keen spiritual discernment–for not every sign comes from God. The devil can give us counterfeit “signs,” for instance, to encourage us to sin, or to divert our attention away from a greater good. One of my clients, when in her wayward twenties, decided to go out for a night on the town in Berkeley–something she almost never did. When she walked upstairs to the second floor of a restaurant bar, which squeezed about ten people between its walls, a young man from France was standing right in front of her. She’d had a fling with him for a few weeks in Paris, the summer before, and he didn’t just travel across the world to Berkeley to see her, neither did he know where she lived. Of all the possible places around the globe, he ended up at that exact location, on that particular night, at that particular time. I don’t know what the odds are of that happening, but I would guess it is around one in a trillion or more.

This young man, an atheist, and she, a New Ager, at that time, could not escape the statistical rarity of this near-impossible “sign”; and its unspoken “message” was too hard to ignore: they were supposed to hook up. So that night, under the guise of “it was meant to be,” the devil enjoyed staining their souls with yet another serious sin.

But we’re not always deceived by evil in the discernment of signs. Sometimes we’re simply fooled by ourselves. I know an entirely sane man who  told me that during his hour of adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, he had seen a vision of a lady, outlined within the Host. To him, this meant that he was going to marry a woman he’d met recently at a temporary job. “Are you dating her?” I asked him.–”No.” “Spent any time alone with her?”–”Hardly.” “Has she shown any interested in you?” –”Not sure.”

Every sign worthy of notice must coalesce with other important factors of discernment, such as Scripture and Church teachings, prayer and fasting, personal desires and charisms (gifts), wise counsel, God’s providence in circumstances, and sound judgment and reason. A sign cannot be trusted if it rises above these other factors, conspiring with our strong feelings to ignore the obvious. The least trustworthy signs catch our interest when we are spiritually naive, unmoored from the commandments of God, or grasping to fulfill unmet desire. It is then that we can become our own false prophet.

We human beings, made in God’s image, beloved and so precious, with divine wisdom imbued in the enlightened depths of our souls, possess an uncanny ability to cling to a false sign, while categorically disregarding what God is trying to make obvious. Sometimes we just don’t want to see what stands right in front of us, or we simply want what we want, when we want it. Then if a sign coincides with our desire, we peg it as real. If it doesn’t, we toss it hastily from our minds.

A woman once shared with me how she had asked God for a sign as to whether she should get an abortion or not, and the day that she had her appointment at Planned Parenthood, she hopped on a bus, which started taking off in the wrong direction. Then when she finally made it to the clinic, as the doctor was preparing himself to perform the procedure, his medical equipment suddenly malfunctioned. “This has never happened before,” he said. Only in retrospect, could she see so clearly that God was giving her signs, but her fearful heart had doubted and dismissed them, as she went forward with the procedure.

I work with women and men who have had abortions, and I love them and help them truly heal, and so many of them have told me that when they were in a crisis pregnancy, they asked God for a sign as to whether or not they should abort their child, and then grew angry with God for not making the right choice obvious to them.

Please note this with all your mind and soul. If we are discerning God’s will and wondering whether or not to do something that goes against Scripture or Church teachings, we don’t have to look any further. We have already received our sign.

Let us not simply pray for a sign, if that’s what we want from God, but pray for a discerning heart–a heart open to seeing what God wishes to show us, able to reject what He is not, and willing to follow in faith wherever He leads.

For reflection:

The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31):

“There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, would gladly have eaten his fill of the scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores. When the poor man died, he was carried away by angels to the bosom of Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried, and from the netherworld, where he was in torment, he raised his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. And he cried out, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me. Send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am suffering torment in these flames.’ Abraham replied, ‘My child, remember that you received what was good during your lifetime while Lazarus likewise received what was bad; but now he is comforted here, whereas you are tormented. Moreover, between us and you a great chasm is established to prevent anyone from crossing who might wish to go from our side to yours or from your side to ours.’ He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, so that he may warn them, lest they too come to this place of torment.’ But Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets. Let them listen to them.’ He said, ‘Oh no, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ Then Abraham said, ‘If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.’”

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins, author of Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession.

“In the end, my Immaculate Heart will triumph.” – Our Lady of Fatima

On October 3, 2011, a day after the Medjugorje visionary, Mirjana, received her once a month apparition, she shared with pilgrims the following words, translated immediately into spoken English, by pilgrim guide, Miki Musa:

If anyone is really privileged for Our Lady, we can speak about our priests, because she never said what they should do. She always talks about what we should do for them. They do not need you to judge and criticize them; they need your prayers and your love, because God will judge them as they were as priests, but God will judge you the way you treated your priests.

Our Lady says if you lose respect toward your priests, you will lose respect for your Church and for your God, as well. [In] the same way, during every second of the month apparition, she always says something about the importance of priests. For example, when she gives us her blessing, she says, “I am giving you my motherly blessing, but the greatest blessing you can receive on earth is the blessing that comes from your priests. When they bless you, it is my Son, Himself, blessing you.”

She also says, “Do not forget to pray for your shepherds. Their priestly hands are blessed by my Son.” That is why I am kindly asking of you, when you go back to your parishes, show to the others how we should respect our priests. If your priest is not doing [things] the way you think he should, do not judge him around. Take the rosary and pray to dear God for him. That would be the way to help him, and not to judge, because in this world that we live in, people judge and criticize so much, but there is so little love, and Our Lady desires that what we [all] may be seen through love and not to take into our own hands what only Our Heavenly Father, God, is supposed to do.

I’m sorry I cannot share with you more of what is supposed to happen [in the future], but I can tell you one thing. We have this time we are living in right now, and we have the time of the triumph of Our Lady’s heart. Between these two times, there is a bridge, and that bridge is our priests. That is why Our Lady insists so much that we pray for them, because that bridge needs to be strong enough for every one of us to cross it–because Our Lady said, “Alongside them [the priests], I will triumph,” which means that without priests, there is no triumph of Our Lady’s heart.

Just as in her message yesterday, Our Lady said not to judge our priests and not to forget that our Heavenly Father chose them. It is one thing for me to say what she said, but the expression of her face tells much more. I would say that she meant, “How do you dare to judge, because God is the one who is supposed to do it.” How can we take into our own hands what only God Himself is supposed to do? Because if God invited the priests, God will be the judge. Who are we to do it?

Transcribed by Christine Watkins, author of Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession.

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

The visionary Ivan and Cardinal Schönborn

I have heard many beautiful stories of Mary coming to a person and pulling them out of darkness in an instant, with her overwhelming embrace of love, and this is perhaps the most immediate conversion I’ve encountered. And, of all ways, it happened through the Internet!

As incredible and doubtful as it may be, Mary seems to be blessing people through her live apparitions, live-streamed through Mary TV. This wouldn’t make sense, except for the fact that God can do anything, and testimonies are verifying it. According to the Medjugorje visionary Ivan, Mary blesses those present to the live-streamed apparition, and any objects they bring to be blessed, just as she would those standing next to the visionary. (The next apparition to be broadcast will be January 31st through www.marytv.tv. Click on the link for details.) The theological assistant to Cardinal Schönborn, primary author of the Catholic Catechism, who supports the Medjugorje visionaries, clarified the Church’s teaching: “Section 12 of the ‘Enchirdion Indulgentiarum’ (the ‘Handbook of Indulgences’) can be taken analogically: Through broadcasts or digital transmissions, blessings will be received by those who participate ‘piously and devoutly’ and this includes also religious items brought with them, in the same way as if they had participated personally.” It would follow the mercy and kindness of God to bring His mother close to as many people as possible. The blessings may be an answer to the prayers those who lament not being able to travel to Medjugorje themselves.

I have no doubt that many would balk at this, or at least wonder; but before you assume God would somehow ignore modern day telecommunications to impart His grace in this way, read this story . . .

Coming Home through the Intercession of Our Lady

Scurrying down the steps, I frantically found myself in search of my gym shoes, which I’d misplaced the night before. I was due at the gym in five minutes to meet friends for a Thursday evening workout. Yes, once again, I was running late. At that exact moment, my phone rang. It was my mother: “Did you get a chance to watch Ivan’s and Marija’s apparition yet?” she asked. Responding impatiently, I replied “No mom, I’m already late as it is. I’ll watch it when I get back.” Sitting down to tie my shoes, I suddenly stopped. Feeling drawn towards the webcast of the Medjugorje visionaries’ apparition, and guilty for being reluctant with my mother, I gave in. It was the evening of September the 23^rd, 2010, and my life, as I knew it, was never going to be the same.

My senior picture at Bryan High School in Omaha, Nebraska, back in my "cool" days

Growing up I attended St. Bernadette Catholic grade school. Although tuition was expensive, the sacrifice my parents endured was worth the Catholic-based education my siblings and I received. Their sacrifice instilled in me a foundation I would newly discover later in life. When I was in grade school, we attended weekly Mass, including Sundays. After my eighth grade year, I decided to enroll in a public high school, solely for athletic reasons, and found myself going to Mass on Sundays only. And to be honest, the only reason I went is because my parents forced me and my twin brother to go; if I’d had it my way, I would have slept in until noon.

Life at this time was going as planned. I graduated from high school and entered my first year of college. College was exciting: new friends, new environment, living away from my parents. However, with this newly acquired freedom came the element of choice. I suddenly found myself choosing not to attend Mass. At this stage in my life, I became distant from God and the Catholic Church. I obtained a job working security at a downtown club and started traveling down a dead-end path. I found myself going home with various women whom I met at work. On several occasions, I ended up at strip-clubs until the early morning hours. With after-hour parties taking place weekly, there wasn’t a weekend when I was in bed sleeping before the sun came up. I would drive home intoxicated, past the church I used to attend, observing families arriving at morning Sunday Mass. The devil had me right where he wanted me, and I was only adding fuel to his fire. My life continued on this path for the next several years.

One evening my mother invited me to attend a speaking engagement at our local parish, where a man, having returned from the pilgrimage site of Medjugorje, gave a testimony of his recent trip to the small town located near Bosnia and Herzegovina. I reluctantly went, only because it would make my mother happy. As I sat there that night, I heard the man talk about a place where six visionaries were experiencing apparitions of Our Blessed Mother. I had no clue about Medjugorje, and to be completely honest, I didn’t care and wasn’t really paying attention. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Myself and one of God's greatest gifts to me, my twin brother. We were born on December the 8th, the feast day of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception

Time passed until last September, 2010. As a gift, my mother gave me a book that left a great impression on me. The book was titled, Queen of the Cosmos: Interviews with the Visionaries of Medjugorje. I took the book to work where it sat on my desk for several weeks, collecting dust. One day while sitting at work, with an hour or so to spare, and nothing else to do, I did something that would forever impact the depths of my soul. I opened the book and began to read. In this book, the visionaries shared how they saw the Virgin Mary, as I’ve never heard Her described, comparing Her beauty to beyond our comprehension. As I continued to read, I began to fall completely in love with the lady whom they were describing. After reading the book in just two days, I knew nothing but understood everything. This young, pure, loving, vibrant woman was my Mother, and I was Her son. I developed a passion and curiosity for the apparitions of Our Lady of Medjugorje, and this marked the beginning of what I call my miraculous conversion through her intercession.

A week after I’d read the Queen of the Cosmos book, my mother informed me that an apparition would be streamed live through the internet to various parts of the globe; and not only this, but according to the visionary Ivan, special graces would be granted to those witnessing the broadcast of the apparition, no matter where they were located. Although I felt somewhat reluctant to take time to observe the apparition, I was extremely excited to see the visionaries Ivan and Marija communicate with the Mother of God.

The visionaries Marija and Ivan at St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna for their September 23, 2010 apparition

The date was September 23, 2010, at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. As I sat witnessing this live event on the Internet, I felt someone surround me with her presence, as though she had entered the room. I quickly looked up, expecting to see someone standing there. I didn’t see anyone, yet the person’s presence was becoming more and more intense. I describe it as if someone were standing with their face inches from yours, but you’re unable see anyone. At that moment, I felt a love that was not of this world, a love more pure that anything I’ve ever experienced. I was so overcome with the love radiating from this person in the room with me that I began to cry. In my humanity, I couldn’t comprehend the love that was being bestowed upon me. I could feel it radiating off of me. I compare it to someone running a high fever, being able to physically feel the heat emanating from his body. And I knew exactly who was in the room with me. I yelled out, “Mary!” “Mary!” “Mary!” while crying uncontrollably. My heart expanded like fire, “Mary!” I exclaimed. “Mary, I love you!” “I love you, Mary!” This love became so intense I put my hands over my face and continued crying. I asked aloud, “What’s happening to me?” “What is happening?” and cried, “Mary!” “Mary!” “Mary!” in between sobs. Finally, unable to stop my tears, I yelled out, “Show me yourself!” “Let me see you, Mary!” “Mary, please. I know you’re here. Please allow me to see you with my eyes!”

That night of September 23rd, 2010, I was twenty-four years old, still very young, and with my whole life ahead of me. However, after feeling the love of Mary, I was truly ready to die. I never saw her with my eyes, but I felt her with my whole being. Knowing that I could never receive that same love from anything or anyone here on Earth, I was ready to leave this world and go with Our Blessed Mother. It was a love so indescribable that at one point I cried out, “Mary, I’m ready to go. Mother, if you want to, take me with you, I’m ready.” And I meant this from the depths of my soul.

Growing up Catholic, I had received the Sacrament of Reconciliation many times, confessing my sins, not out of sorrow, but due to the fear of hell. As I sat wondering if my tears were ever going to cease, I realized that for the first time in my life, I was truly sorry for everything I’d done. I mean I was truly sorry from the bottom of my heart. I managed to pick my head up, and with tears streaming down my face, for the first time, I looked to God and said, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” And I truly meant it.

After experiencing this miraculous conversion, I did one of the scariest things I’ve ever done in my life. I gave my yes to God; I gave Him complete control over my life. I figured I’d messed things up enough; and by turning the reigns over to Him, I couldn’t go wrong. Ever since giving God and Mother Mary my yes, I’ve been blessed with many gifts. Six months after my conversion, my mother and I flew to Sacramento, California, for a Medjugorje conference. To our surprise, the Medjugorje visionary, Marija, was present there. If you recall, Marija was one of the visionaries I observed at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna. At the conference, I was able to meet and receive a hug from Marija: an incredible gift from God and Our Blessed Mother!

My Mother and I at the 2011 Sacramento Marian Conference. Here I was able to meet and be present with Medjugorje visionary Marija Pavlovic during her apparition with Our Blessed Mother.

My life hasn’t been the same since the evening of September 23, 2010. I have taken Our Lady’s messages to heart: fasting, praying the rosary, receiving the sacraments. I also recently joined a Bible study on campus. I have to laugh because growing up I was always extremely close to my mother. God saw that I was slipping away from Him and knew exactly what to do. He sent His Mother to bring Me back to Him. There isn’t a day or hour that goes by when I’m not thinking about Mary. I love her so much, and I’m so happy to have her as my Mother. I recently heard a man quote a wonderful phrase that I knew directly related to me. He said, “When my time comes. When I die and leave this world and am standing in front of Jesus at Heaven’s gates, Jesus will look at me and say, “Oh yes, My Mother has told Me all about you.” I’m so thankful for Our Lady’s intercession. She saved my life and healed my soul, bringing me closer to Her Son. I can’t help but feel excited, as I sit in anticipation, wondering where this new found love will lead me next.

Adam Holubar (Omaha, NE), edited by Christine Watkins

Read more stories, such as this, in Christine Watkins’ book, Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession. Your purchase through our link will support the work we do here at CatholicMom.com!

Copyright 2012 Christine Watkins

Buying Fair Trade Items for Christmas
and bringing joy to God’s heart

I took my own advice from the last Catholic Mom article, “Take Back the Holidays for God,” and purchased a fair trade item. Little did I know I was in for a spiritual surprise. I found a holiday item on the Catholic Relief Services, Fair Trade website, called SERRV, clicked “Add to Cart,” and sent along my credit card info. What happened next could only come from God. Normally I don’t like, well, that’s not true. . .I hate shopping, either online or in the aisles of a department store; I’ve never before felt the addictive rush of shopaholic glee experienced by others, so I cannot say what followed was that. After I clicked the “Place Order” icon, a feeling I had never before experienced, an ecstatic, perfectly clean, undefiled, joy, filled me within. It was, perhaps, like the joy that flows through the angels when they’ve succeeded in helping one of us. God seemed to be communicating to me that every single thing about my purchase pleased Him, that every little endeavor, from the poor man’s hands in Haiti who made the object, to the charitable hands that linked the events, which brought the gift into my husband’s hands, made the Almighty smile.

I cannot promise you insta-happiness, but I do believe that my infusion of a joy magnificently beyond and far purer than any in this world was God’s way of showing me and you, that Jesus’ Sacred Heart swells with gratitude when we put money and hope into the hands and hearts of the poor. As He reminds us, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).

Here are some shopping internet sites, dedicated to Fair Trade practices: SERRV, crsfairtrade.org, www.tenthousandvillages.com, hessnatur.com, shoppingforachange.org. Purchase something there, and you will have just helped people survive through their own hard, creative work, whereas they might otherwise become impoverished and destitute, through no fault of their own. Enjoy browsing and clicking! No filling the pockets of the rich. No supporting sweat shops. No blindness in wondering where your money has gone. No parking. No traffic. Only sweet, holy goodness.

Want another great option?

Oxfam.com has fun website (at least for me, it is), that allows you to buy a mosquito net, a toilet–something desperately needed by the poor, and give a card to your friends or family members, which mentions this charitable gift in their name. No more buying that knick knack, which further clutters their stuffed home. Now you can avoid the plastic, polite smiles, and the strained, “Thank you’s!” you receive when gleefully handing a plastic elf over to them. Click on the picture above and see . . .

IT REALLY IS OKAY TO SAY “MERRY CHRISTMAS”

Tired of the slogan, “Happy Holidays,” trumping the reason for the season? The American Family Association offers a list of Christmas-friendly stores, alongside those that neglect or refuse to mention Christmas. Click here for details. They also supply gung ho Christmas folk with buttons, stickers and signs, displaying the attractive message: “I bring you news of great joy!” Click here to get a Merry Christmas button. I wanted a yard sign, too, but they’d already sold out!

Copyright 2011 Christine Watkins

It was all soooo cute, until we came to one house, with bloody torsos, far flung limbs, ghastly masks of protruding eyes with pins stuck in them, and ghoulish sounds, which filled the air. When the live human zombies handed my Yoda the candy, my normally fearless little Yoda began to cry hard sobs, and from that moment on Halloween night was different. In every doorway that followed, he extended his plastic pumpkin forward and said, I’m scared, I’m scared,” “I’m scared.

There is something wrong with this holiday.

Princess Leia now found herself never wanting to Trick-or-Treat again, angry with a society that thinks it’s somehow okay to celebrate spilling the insides of horror films onto their lawns and doorsteps, and for what purpose? To welcome children?

When we arrived home Halloween night festivites, my Obi-Wan Kenobi plopped on the couch and said, “I don’t want to do Halloween anymore.”

‘No problem,” said a relieved Princess Leia, and the next day I had us make our own makeshift saint lanterns with holy cards.

This whole experience made me ponder, “What is this holiday all about?” Halloween came from Hallowe’en, or All Hallow’s Eve. This means the evening before All Saint’s Day, the day of the holy ones, lifting our minds heavenward to the saints, a feast of rapturous beauty, honoring all those who have risen to paradise, who love us, pray for our needs, and behold the beatific vision for eternity.

As I reflected further upon All Hallow’s Eve’s transformation into a scene from the movie, “Friday the 13th,” I asked myself, “How do the holidays influence our path to God?”

I remembered how St. Ignatius of Loyola, the preeminent Catholic authority on spiritual discernment, experienced a dramatic conversion to God, while convalescing from a serious battle injury. A self-admitted womanizer, gambler, and schemer, who aspired to fame and loved war-like sports, he lay confined to his bed, reading one chivalrous tale after another, imagining doing chivalrous exploits himself, and winning the favor of a certain damsel of nobility, until he exhausted his available supply of novels. The only books left for him told of the saints and the life of Jesus. This reading changed his life completely. The words in the physical books he held in his hands captured his imagination and his soul.

Catholicism understands this. The human spirit is often lifted up or cast down through the impact of our physical environment–what we look at, what we read, what we ponder, how we decorate our home. The religious icon, the candle, the incense, the crucifix, the statues, the missal, are an entryway for God to impress Himself upon the human imagination and call us to higher things.

Then I distinctly recalled a beautiful Advent night, when God touched me through the physical world. I wrote it down as part of my conversion story in the book, Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession:

“One Christmas when my parents took me to see a manger scene in the spacious backyard of a home near ours in Berkeley, California. Covering the side of a hill were electrically lit Wise Men and camels and cows and angels and sheep and shepherds and a mom and a dad and a baby. When I looked at the display, I thought it was the most beautiful sight possible. My five-year-old heart felt like it had been transported to heaven, and I thought, ‘How wonderful it is that my parents have taken me here!’ Normally bothered by the cold, my body felt light and expansive inside my winter jacket, and the crisp winter air around me twinkled with joy. I could not take my eyes off the manger scene, and I didn’t want to leave. When my parents said it was time to go, I asked if I could stay longer. I gazed at the lit figures on the hill and they seemed to wink back at me.”

One man, St. Francis of Assisi, popularized the Nativity or Creche scene. This cozy manger in his mind became the North Star for the Christmas imagination and artwork of the world to follow.

Our own physical living space and how we choose to celebrate feast days and holidays, has a spiritual impact on our lives, and truly, on the world around us.

As we travel forward together in time, let us peer into the past, then collectively and creatively ponder the future of this coming holiday season.

Thanksgiving began as a day wholly oriented to God and for God. The pilgrims at Plymouth, Massachusetts, wanted to thank the Lord for their safe arrival in the New World and for a bountiful harvest. Then during the Civil War, in 1863, President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a national day of thanksgiving to be celebrated on the fourth Thursday of November.

Most Americans don’t know that he called upon the nation to honor this day as one of thanksgiving to God and repentance over war, which he believed was a punishment for sin. And indeed this is true. Our Lady of Fatima said those same exact words, “War is a punishment for sin.” Our President asked us to give thanks to God for his providence and to repent for the ways we cause war. His words were powerful, poetic, and timeless. We haven’t observed them. We don’t know them. They reside on a couple internet sites, but not in the hearts and minds of our nation.

Click here to read his national address as to why he formalized Thanksgiving Day. How might you and I invite God, through our home decorations and rituals, to be present with us that day? How might we celebrate the holiday with its original intent and give thanks to God for His awesome providential care of us, and repent from sin?

Then comes Advent and Christmas. I’m afraid that honoring “the most beautiful time of the year,” for many, is a period of swimming upstream against a rush of materialism and secularism which sweeps over, under, and around us in the opposing direction, and sometimes carries us with it, unless we struggle not to end up downstream. Sweet baby Jesus has been washed away, over time, by a powerful current of shopping and Santa and snowmen. The mighty mountain of God’s birth into our world has wasted and worn down to a small mound. Lately, I’ve been walking into stores and asking for baby Jesus, and the response I get is, “We don’t have Him here.” I’ve thought, “You’re right.”

We can take back the meaning of Christmas. Click here to learn of and share the history behind the symbols of Christmas, from the candy cane to the holly tree. Click here for a website called “Advent Conspiracy,” to watch a fantastic video called “Enter the Story,” which is better than any words I could offer to inspire you to make this Advent your most meaningful yet.                                                                    

WHAT WOULD JESUS BUY? (WWJB?)

I have an idea. Howabout we Catholics reclaim the religious heritage of our nation’s sacred days for ourselves and boycott what encroaches upon them? Why not, for example, make All Saints Day bigger and more noticeable than it is now? Howabout placing saint lanterns on our doorsteps on All Hallow’s Eve, while boycotting the particularly gruesome Spirit Halloween stores, which litter the landscape every October? (I’m recalling standing in line with my seven-year-old, trying to distract him from the life-size phantom next to us, holding a bloody axe and chanting with a sinister voice, “I’m going to cut your neck to the bone!”) Howabout making or buying products that tell the real story of Easter, as we share the true tale at home through our prayer, words, and home decorations? Easter in America has been subsumed under a big bunny and hard boiled eggs. I didn’t even know, until I was sixteen years old, that Easter Sunday had any relation with religion, much less Jesus.

Our purchasing power can help evangelize the culture. The only thing that will sway corporations is money, not morals, so why not speak to them in the only way they know how to listen? If we don’t buy it. They won’t make it. If we buy it, they will make more of it. This Christmas you can boycott Santa and his elves, and anything else you wish. Instead, you can support Christ’s work on earth by purchasing religious items, which celebrate the Real Christmas Story, and by giving Fair Trade gifts.

Fair trade helps the poor help themselves. Small-scale artisans and farmers receive all the benefits of eco-friendly fair trade items–a fair price, long-term trading relationships, safe and healthy work places, and a social premium to be invested in their community project. Through Catholic Relief Services, in particular, Fair Trade funds are also recycled into grants to assist more small-scale producers overseas and grow the marketplace in the United States. Click here for an online catalogue of products, and click on chocolate or coffee to purchase them through CRS Fair Trade.

You may also wish to join a national boycott of companies that donate to Planned Parenthood, the leading abortion provider in the United States. I was shocked to find out that my bank, my credit card, my favorite airline, even my jeans were implicated in this. Click on these sites to read past lists of donors, and boycott away! (Newsinfaith.com, Lifenews.com and an older and informative list from an opposing viewpoint.) It curls the stomach to think that companies such as Johnson & Johnson made the list. Everything from Wheaties to Windex seems to be there. Do you like Coca Cola, but are willing to switch to Pepsi? Nice try! Both were on the list.

An official current list of Planned Parenthood donors, which changes each year, can be purchased through Life Decisions International. (Click here to order, and click here to read about LDI.) By ordering this list, you support their ongoing research and efforts of exposing which companies support the abortion industry. LDI estimates that the boycott has cost Planned Parenthood more than $40 million since the Corporate Funding Project began nearly 18 years ago. Since then over 256 corporations have stopped funding Planned parenthood. Boycotting can make a difference for God!                                                                     

WHAT WOULD JESUS WATCH? (WWJW?) 

The big cinema and television corporations, about twenty or so of them, reject having the name Jesus mentioned within the movies and programs they produce, unless, of course, it is used as a swear word. The wildly successful movie, “The Passion”, the highest-grossing rated R film in U.S. box office history, the highest grossing foreign language film and/or subtitled film in US box office history, and the highest grossing religious film of all time in worldwide box office history, was entirely funded by Mel Gibson, because every movie corporation refused to produce it.

A Hollywood script may possess word “saint”, or “God”, or “heaven”, or “angel”, but not “Jesus”. You may have noticed, for instance, that in the popular television show, “Touched by an Angel,” “He” was never mentioned. Pay close attention to the movies produced in the last ten years, and you will find this to be true. Writers run into a glass wall in Hollywood, trying to get a script accepted that holds up the name Jesus. Yet–

“God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. ” (Philippians 2:9-11)

Copyright 2011 Christine Watkins

“Go back to bed!” he shouted back. “I’m just protecting my house and my family.”
In the middle of the night, I woke up to see my husband outside, in nothing but his underwear, walking the property with guns. I had three children to protect and care for, a boy age seven, and two girls, eight and seventeen, and I got scared. “He’s gone nuts!” I thought to myself. This wasn’t the sweet, normal husband I once knew.

I was aware of Mark’s progressive drinking problem—up to ten or twelve beers a day, but I didn’t know that he had also started to take speed and marijuana. Crushed and pressured under the stress to get his tire product business off the ground, the speed kept him working late hours into the night, and the marijuana helped him to finally pass out. Then after just four hours of sleep, he would get up to start the work day again, and at 11 a.m., pour himself a beer.

Clues of his drug use popped up when I started helping him with work. I had never before gone downstairs into his office, and when I did, I found guns and pornographic magazines. When confronted, he told me the pornographic magazines had been brought into the office by the guys who drove delivery trucks for the company—this turned out to be true, and the guns were there because he needed them, since somebody was trying to kill him—not true. Then one day, in a hidden corner, I found the drugs.

“Yes, they’re mine,” he confessed, and after a couple more days of his paranoid prowling, I told him that he needed to go to a doctor or to rehab. He told me he didn’t need to, that he could quit all on his own. For a few weeks, he seemed to have stopped, and then the drinking and surveillance pacing in his underwear began all over again.
I told him I was leaving him, and I did. One day, I packed up myself and our three kids and left to go live at my brother’s house. During my stay there, Mark must have called me twenty-five times a day to ask me to come home. We fought terribly, and I told him, “No, not until you get help and go to rehab.”

Paranoid and ready to fight, Mark instigated a domestic violence brawl with my brother, over who should be taking care of our children, and my husband ended up in jail. Caught behind those bars, he made the decision to go to rehab.

I truly don’t understand how you can love somebody one day and gradually fall out of love with that person, but I lost all the love I’d had for my husband. I felt disgusted with him and really wanted a divorce. He called and begged me to come and see him in rehab and to bring the children, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of being near him.
During my husband’s thirty-one days in a recovery home, he received a lot of help, and so did I. I had always had a strong devotion to Our Lady, so I never stopped praying the rosary, and I was seeing a female Catholic therapist. When it was time for my husband to check out of rehab, he begged me to let him come home, rather than go to a half-way house. Still feeling no love in my heart for him, much less a desire to live with him, I let him back into our home on sheer faith. I saw that he was trying.

My husband came back a different person. He was calm and filled with peace. Three to four times a week, he attended AA meetings, received the help of a sponsor, and switched from drinking beer to Dr. Pepper. Mark had always been thoughtful and helpful to me around the house, and now these traits were magnified. He was still walking the property, but now he was out early in the morning; and instead of a gun in his hands, he carried a Bible.
A few months after my husband returned home, my love for him tricked back into my heart, slowly, almost imperceptibly. Once a week, we went together to see his male Catholic therapist, and I went regularly to see my therapist. It took a year, but eventually our lives returned to some semblance of normalcy.

With my home life under more control, I began to immerse myself in Catholic women’s ministries, attending meetings and prayer groups at night. During one of these prayer groups, a lady came in and shared how she and her family had won a trip to Europe and had ended up going to this little town called Medjugorje, where the Blessed Mother was appearing.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I exclaimed. “You mean the Blessed Mother is appearing in this town?”

“Yes.”

I had only known of Mary’s apparitions in Fatima, Portugal, and Lourdes, France. As I listened to this lady’s story and of how her rosary turned gold, I just couldn’t believe it. So excited, I couldn’t wait to get home to tell my husband about how the Virgin Mary was actually visiting earth in Medjugorje. “I have to go there. I have to go there!” I exclaimed spontaneously.

I couldn’t understand why no one had told me about this. This was 1990, and she had allegedly been appearing there since 1981. I rushed home and shared the news with Mark, because I always told my husband everything. And he said, “Well, how much does a trip like that cost?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, honey, we don’t have the money.”

“I know. But I have to go.”

“Okay. Well, you’re the pray-er in the family. Just pray.”

So I took the rosary I’d had for many years, held it in my hand, and said, “Blessed Mother, if you want me to go there, please give me a sign. Help me.” I went to sleep with my rosary in my hand and Medjugorje on my mind, and when I woke up in the morning, my rosary had turned gold.

I went to morning Mass, after taking my kids to school, and approached one of the priests there, whom I liked a lot: “If I form a group to go to Medjugorje, would you come along and lead it?”

He said, “Yes.” He had never been there, but had heard about it and wanted to go. Organization comes naturally to me, so I got a flyer out to all the churches in my area, and through the mouths of my friends, little by little, calls of interest came in. In February of 1991, myself, the priest, and twenty others were flying off to Medjugorje. Tucked in my bag were hundreds of prayer petitions I’d gathered, plus my own. I wanted Mary of Medjugorje to help my husband, a “CEO” Catholic, “Church Easter Only,” to develop a strong devotion to her and become active in the Catholic Church. I prayed three to four rosaries a day, if I could, but my husband never joined me.

During a wonderful week in Medjugorje, I was present in the apparition room, when the visionary, Vicka, saw the Blessed Mother; I witnessed the miracle of the sun, spinning in the sky; and I prayed for my husband. Never did I let him know about my special petition.

I came back home, and it all started to happen. Bit by bit, Mark started to change. He joined a jail ministry, then started preaching in the jails. Already an executive chef, he agreed to cook at any and every function in the church, when prompted. Then he and I started to cook a special once-a-month meal for a retired priest, then for other priests, then we befriended them all. Our friendships began to change to primarily Catholic couples, and over time, completely on his own, my husband developed a strong devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe.

When ten years had passed since my trip to Medjugorje, my petition to Mary of Medjugorje was close to being fully realized. My husband was well on his way to becoming a true man of God. Only one last mountain to climb remained.

One mysterious night, as I lay wide awake, unable to sleep, I curled up under my husband’s outstretched arm. Mark was lying on his back, sound asleep, with both of his arms extended out straight from his sides, and he was bare-chested, with a beard and dark hair. As I lay there, I glanced up at his face. Then a moment later, I looked up at him again. What I saw shocked me. My husband’s face had literally turned into the face of Jesus on the cross. I looked away and started blinking, then turned my eyes to stare at him again and saw only him. I thought I was seeing things, or perhaps dreaming, so I tested this several times. But I wasn’t dreaming or delusional. I was very alert and awake, and had never hallucinated in my life. Looking away, and then back again, I saw my husband on the cross.

Then I saw Jesus Christ on the cross. My husband—then Christ—then my husband.

I started to cry and sat up overwhelmed with tears. Shaking my husband to wake him up, I said, “Mark, Mark! You’re not going to believe what I just saw.”

“What?”

I told him my vision of him, and he said, “Well, get me off that cross. I don’t want to be there!”

I said sadly, “I’m sorry. I can’t change that. I know what I saw.”

Soon after the vision, my husband gradually became weak. But we didn’t think anything of it for a couple of years. We just figured he was simply growing old. Little things were happening to him but nothing big enough to get him to the doctor. “I was out in the yard,” he’d say, “and you know I just was so clumsy. I fell.”

“C’mon, pick yourself up,” I’d joke.

In November of 2005, as I was making dinner, I called down to him in the family room, and when he answered me, his words were jumbled. I came downstairs and asked, “What did you say?”

”I don’t know. I was thinking of what I wanted to say, but this mumbo jumbo came out.”

“Are you feeling okay? Do you have a headache or anything?”

“I feel perfectly fine. I don’t know why that popped out.”

Once again, we let it go, because we didn’t have an answer for it. Then about a week later, the same thing happened again. He spoke in jumbled words. He wanted to say one thing, but out came gibberish.

I asked, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I feel fine.”

“Are you on drugs?”

”No. I haven’t had any drugs in years.”

“Are you drinking again?”

“No, I haven’t had any drinks. No nothing.”

I didn’t believe him. The next day when he was at work, I went through the whole house, everywhere—the garage, the upstairs, the downstairs, looking for drug paraphernalia. I even checked his wallet to see if there were any unusual telephone numbers, perhaps drug dealers in there, but I couldn’t find anything.

Then it happened again. He opened his mouth, and out came gibberish.

This time I called the cardiologist. “Something is wrong with Mark. I think he’s had a stroke. His words are jumbled.”

“Bring him to me right now,” he said. The cardiologist found nothing wrong, so from him, we were referred to a neurologist. Meanwhile, Mark’s speech worsened. At different times, I could hardly understand what he was saying, and his body was growing rigid at a rapid rate. “I’m so stiff,” he’d say. “My legs are killing me.”

The neurologist did a bunch of tests and had Mark stand up and walk for him. Then in an icy, impersonal manner, the doctor said, “There’s a strong possibility this is Lou Gerrig’s disease. I’m really thinking that this is probably what it is.” His words were flippant, as if he were diagnosing a cold. There is no cure for Lou Gerrig’s disease.
My husband put his head down on a table in examining room, and I tried to console him, like a mother would console her child. “That’s probably not it. They’ll get something for it.”
Then the doctor said pointedly, “I’m going to have to report this to the DMV, and you’re not going to be able to drive.” My husband’s body stiffened. Bristling over the doctor’s words, bedside manner, and casual life-threatening diagnosis, he blew up in anger, “Well, what do you mean DMV?”

“You’re not going to be able to drive because of the condition of your body.”

“You’re not taking away my driving privileges. This is …”

Afraid that my husband would knock the doctor out, I told him, “Mark, you have to leave.” So he went outside.
Turning to the neurologist, I said, “I’m so sorry for my husband’s anger. I’m going to get a second opinion. I’ll be calling you to have the tests you ran sent over there.”

We went home, and my husband collapsed from sadness. But we still didn’t know for sure. Lou Gerrig’s disease, also called ALS, was just a strong possibility. My son and youngest daughter, now in their 20’s, and my eldest daughter, who now lived forty-five minutes away, got on the internet; and my son, who was in paramedic school at the time, started to pore over his medical books. The children and I were looking up everything that we could about the disease, without telling or showing Mark anything. As more was learned, my kids grew very, very upset, for when they read about the symptoms of ALS, they began to recall different things their father had experienced.

“Oh mom, it can’t be,” they said, “But this is dad. This is dad.”

I didn’t want to believe what was happening, but always practical, I sprang into action. I got in touch with the Association for Lou Gerrig’s Disease, and they said the best place to go for a diagnosis was the Mayo clinic in Arizona. We went, and in three days, Mark must have seen ten different doctors and undergone every test possible. When all was done, and they called us in for the final analysis of it all, they said with compassion, “We’re very, very sorry, but you do have ALS, and it looks like you have a very fast progression of ALS.”

For years, every evening after dinner, around 7 p.m., I would say to my family, “I’m going to say a rosary. Is there anybody who wants to join me?” And my children and husband would say, “No.” After we received Mark’s confirmed diagnosis, my kids still said, “No,” but my husband looked up at me and said, “Yes.”

I felt scared, but never angry with God. I never lamented, “Why me? Poor me! Poor Mark! Poor family!” Never. When something difficult happens, I can be strong. I’m the first on who picks up the reins and looks for a solution. I turned our entire downstairs into a medical facility, with an adjustable bed, which I shared with him, for as long as I could. And when I couldn’t sleep with him any more, I bought a twin. If he got up or needed anything, I needed to be right there. He never slept through the night—ever. After tucking him in at night, I would go outside, have a glass of wine and cry, asking God help us get through this.

By this time in life, I had traveled to Medjugorje, Fatima, and Lourdes, as well as to a couple different Marian apparition sites in the United States, but I had never been to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, even though I’m Hispanic—three-fourths Mexican, to be exact, with my mother being pure Mexican and my father part German and Spanish. Aware of my husband’s devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe, I said, “Let’s go to visit her shrine in Mexico and ask for a miracle.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” he responded.

In May of 2006, just a month after visiting the Mayo clinic, we traveled to Mexico with twelve people from our church, including two deacons and their wives, and my brother and his wife, in order to pray for Mark’s physical healing. Not only did our tour bus take us to the shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe, but to other churches in Mexico, old and beautiful. At some of the churches, the deacons would take Mark, saying, “You go on ahead with the girls,” and relieve me of my caretaking responsibility. I appreciated that because all I did was live and do for Mark’s disease. My husband was going to die, so my whole focus was trying not to cry in front of him, being strong for him.
On that trip, my husband walked into one of the churches ahead of me, and when I followed, I gasped to see a beautifully sacred and ornate atmosphere of murals and gold and statues of saints everywhere. When I walked over to the left side of the church, I looked down to see my husband lying prostrate on the floor, face down, sobbing like a baby.

Seeing my husband weeping caused me to cry, because I loved him. “Oh Mark!” I cried out, as the two deacons walked towards him and lifted him up.

Then Marked looked at me and said, “I’ve had a healing. I’m okay.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him. “A physical healing?”

“I’ve had a spiritual healing,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.” Then he began repeating, “Thy will be done. . . Thy will be done. . .”

In the days to follow, he said those words over and over again: “Thy will be done.” Mark said it so much, that my youngest daughter had a hidden tattoo put on her ribs, which said, “Thy will be done.” My son also had a tattoo painted on him six months later. It was “November 21, 2006,” the date that his dad died.

During his last six months on earth, Mark became childlike. He sometimes giggled like a little kid and had an innocent playfulness about him, despite his debilitating disease. My husband had always been silly, friendly, generous and giving, and these traits, though restrained, were also now magnified in the twinkle of his eyes. Toward the end, my husband’s spirit remained strong, even as all his strength left him. During his last four months, he no longer had the ability to inhale the medical marijuana, which had temporarily relieved his intense pain, nor could he swallow, since ALS attacks the muscles. He lay in bed, stiff as wood, and I couldn’t move him. Hospice came into our home and started bathing him, because I couldn’t do it any more. By then, my work at a school district allowed me to work from home, and my wonderful church and school communities were getting together to feed us every single night for those four months.

People also came by to hold my husband’s hand and cry, as he cried silently with them—people who thanked him for helping them get off of drugs, save their marriage, teach them to cook, lead them to God.

Mark wrote a letter to me, which he put it on the computer, and I did not find it until two months after he died. It was a love letter that he wanted me to read on Valentines Day, but I found it sooner. In it he told me all the things that a wife wants to hear—how important I was in his life, how beautiful I was, and how thankful he was to God for me. As tears welled in my eyes, I felt like the thankful one, thankful to have lived with and loved a true man of God.

By Christine Watkins, for Rosemary Geiger

Read more stories, such as this, in Watkins’ book, Full of Grace: Miraculous Stories of Healing and Conversion through Mary’s Intercession. Rosemary Geiger is the founder of the Mystical Rose House of Prayer and Retreat in San Diego, California–truly one of the most beautiful and peaceful retreat houses in California. Each bedroom is graced with a mural of Mary–Our Lady of Medjugorje, Fatima, Lourdes, and Mystical Rose.

Ignatius tells us that times of spiritual desolation are a normal part of the spiritual journey for those moving towards God, ebbing and flowing between periods of consolation. The spiritual desolation of which he speaks should not be confused with psychological or medical conditions, which bring on depressive feelings and sometimes require professional help. Spiritual desolation is characterized by our relationship with God. God feels far away. Prayer is dry, difficult, and unappealing, and we can feel tempted to abandon or lessen our faith practices. This can occur with or without concurrent psychological or physical desolation.

Spiritual desolation, the saint tells us, comes upon those earnestly seeking God, for three principal, but not exhaustive, reasons. In his Ninth Rule, he speaks of God’s saving purpose for allowing the enemy to oppress us with such troubles of the heart. The first reason is because we have become negligent in our own spiritual exercises (eg. prayer, Mass, the Sacrament of Reconciliation), and through our faults, spiritual consolation withdraws from us. The second is that God tries us to see how much we extend ourselves to serve and praise him without a sense of his grace or consolation. The third is to help us feel and understand that spiritual consolations are graces from God, and not due to our own striving, lest we become prideful and attribute them to ourselves.

God has a saving purpose in allowing the trial of spiritual desolation—that we might grow closer to Him. It is important to note, however, that spiritual desolation, of itself, does not produce spiritual growth. In fact, if not resisted, it will cause spiritual harm. That is why we would do well to heed the advice of St. Ignatius, who says in his Sixth Rule: “… it is very advantageous to change ourselves intensely against the desolation itself, as by insisting more upon prayer, meditation, upon much examination, and upon extending ourselves in some suitable way of doing penance.”

My prayer for you and me is that when spiritual desolation comes, we might face it courageously, like a stallion, galloping through a dense forest in the sure hope of reaching green pastures.

GETTING OUT OF SPIRITUAL DESOLATION – four key practices

In spiritual desolation, there is one change to be avoided. “Never,” says St. Ignatius, go back on a faith-filled, God-centered proposal or determination, made before the desolation began, because the good Spirit counsels us more in times of consolation, and the evil spirit advises us in our desolation, trying to root up and destroy what God just tried to plant. In the counsel of the evil spirit, we cannot find the right way to a decision.

In Rule Six of the Exercises, Ignatius helps us to stand firm in the hour of the test, by recommending we do the four following practices, and with greater frequency or length than is usual, for in this way, we habituate ourselves “not only to resist the adversary, but even to overthrow him.”

• PRAY: Often in desolation, we experience a sense of helplessness. The enemy insinuates the possibility or inevitability of our defeat. As difficult as it is to feel an attraction to God in such a state, turn to Him and the saints in prayer, and beg for the assistance that you need.
• MEDITATE: Meditate on the truths of faith, God’s promises, those words of Scripture, those memories of His personal touch–anything, that brings to mind God’s faithful love. Such meditation may require a certain effort, but it bears rich fruit.
• EXAMINATION: While it feels easier to escape into welcome diversions, like busyness, the media, or sundry gratifications, use time, instead, to examine possible sources within you and around you that brought on the desolation, in order to gain a deeper understanding of its causes and remedies. Ask, “What is my heart saying? When did my desolation begin? Do I know what caused it? With insights gained, an unbearable heaviness can be reduced to a manageable concern.
• PENANCE: Make small, suitable gestures of courage and initiative that counter desolation’s destructive tendencies. Fasting is a most powerful way to counter its effects. Bad habits, vices, and indulgences often contribute to spiritual desolation and prolong distress and unhappiness. Taking action to do a penance directly opposes this tendency of spiritual desolation. Pray to understand and act upon the personal sacrifices that will counteract any destructive distractions. Hope will grow through each small victory over self.

St. Ignatius of Loyola’s promise:

As long as we have made a fundamental choice for God in our lives and have abandoned (or never entered into) a life involving serious sin, we will find, through prayer, meditation, examination, and penance, the road that surely leads through the battleground of desolation into the peace of God’s love.

Copyright 2011 Christine Watkins