Forty days of prayer and fasting for an end to abortion is the slogan for 40 days for Life. All over the world, people are mobilizing at abortion mills to peacefully pray and be witnesses for life. What a special honor it was when my dear friend Therese (seen in the picture above) asked me to be one of the local leaders for this campaign. It has been so spiritually intense so far. I will tell you two stories from the campaign.
The first Friday of our vigil at the LoveJoy Surgicenter (a notorious late-term abortion mill in Portland), we witnessed a women leaving the clinic in a hurry, still pregnant! As I stood praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy with one of my faithful comrades, a women came storming out of the back door of the abortion clinic. She was walking so quickly, her boyfriend was having a hard time keeping up. Dressed in her pink sweat suit, she lit a cigarette and mumbled something to us that we couldn't hear. Then she said loudly, "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" I, of course, was so excited and wanted to talk to her! I said, "Oh, thats so wonderful! We can give you a baby shower!"...She was so upset she just told me she couldn't talk right now and kept speed walking down the street. I shouted out to her, "I want you to know that you're my hero! God will reward you for your choice today, I promise!" I shouted out that we would be there every day if she wanted to come back to talk to us. What a special day! I was so grateful to God that this little baby's life was spared the horror of the abortion that awaited it. May God bless that young women for her courageous choice that day.
The other encounter that stands out in my mind was with a young man I'll call "Tony". Tony had come to the clinic with his girlfriend who was pregnant with their first child. When he walked out the back door, I started a conversation with him, asking him why he was there. He told me that his girlfriend was inside at her appointment for her abortion. He was holding her purse and looked like he wanted to talk. I explained to him that he had just as much a right to the life of his baby as anyone else! Tony admitted that he felt sort of bullied into the whole thing. He said that they weren't financially able to care for the baby at this time. I told Tony that I understood how he felt and once I had found myself in the same situation, when I put my first son up for adoption at birth. I said that it may seem like the more difficult choice now, but in the long run, I don't have to live with the guilt that I killed my son. He patiently listened to me and agreed with everything I said.
I handed him a little fetal model of a 12 week old fetus and gave him some other literature about human development. I also gave him two miraculous medals and a couple rosaries. He told me that he was a Christian and I asked him how he thought Jesus would feel about his decision. Tony looked down and I could tell the reality of the abortion was starting to sink in. He said, "Well, let me go see if I can call her and try to talk to her!" He went off with cell phone in hand and I didn't see him for a while. As I walked around, praying, I ended up on the other side of LoveJoy.
About 20 minutes later, I see Tony come to the end of the driveway, looking around for me. As I approach him, I can see the sadness in his eyes. He told me that he couldn't get to her, they had separated them, which is their normal practice, and had her turn her cell phone off. We both knew that possibly at that very moment, his baby's life was being extinguished. I stood there with him as my friend, as my brother in Christ and just let him talk to me. Tony started thanking me, he said, "I want to thank you, for making me feel that I could really live my faith, that I could really be the man God intended me to be. I wanted to ask you....would you pray for me? Would you pray to Jesus that He would forgive me?" (He had tears welling up in his eyes at this point and so did I. There's something about a man crying that always gets to me). I said, "Oh, of course I will! Would you like me to pray with you right now?" His face lit up and he said, "Yes, please!"
So....there on the sidewalk, outside the abortion clinic where a baby was losing its life as we spoke, I took Tony's hands in mine and I began to pray to Jesus. I asked Him to have mercy. I asked him to forgive Tony and his girlfriend for what they had done that day, I begged Him to give them another chance at parenthood one day, if that was His will. Then, I gave Tony a little prayer book of Catholic prayers which he joyfully took from me and said he would go read right away. I gave him a big, genuine hug and told him that he had a friend in me. I told him that no matter what he's done, Jesus still loves him...that he loves him so much He died on the cross for his sins. All he needed was true contrition for them, and they would be forgiven. I could see the grief of this man for his sins that day...it truly was a beautiful sight to behold.
I had made a friend that day, and even if I never see Tony again, I'll always remember him walking out with his girlfriend, with a huge beaming smile on his face, waving to me to the bemusement of his partner...all I could do was smile back at him and wave goodbye. A genuine, warm, familiar smile. The kind you give to someone who you've known and loved.
God bless you all and may He keep these souls close to Him forever....
It's amazing what can happen when we make ourselves available for God. He uses our weak and broken vessels to show forth His glory. I've always said, and truly believe, that it is the most willing souls that are given the most graces. It's not about how "special" or "holy" we are (trust me), it's about how WILLING we are to show up. I really think its that simple. Show up, make yourself available, and God will use you! Oh how He delights in it! I can feel it when we are out there talking to people about Him. I sense His loving gaze on us as when speak of Him and His mother. When I silently pray to the Blessed Virgin when I put a miraculous medal around someone neck, It's almost as if I can hear her say "Yes, daughter...I will bring them to my Son..."
The other day Scott and I walked from Holy Rosary over the Burnside Bridge to downtown. We had our usual supplies, cooler full of cold drinks, chocolate, rosaries and my bag of miraculous medals. The first people we met were a couple who had been homeless for 8 months and their friend, a marine vet. At 10 in the morning, the marine had already gotten drunk and was holding a beer in his hand. The couple were high on meth and yet seemed so coherent and friendly. We stopped and offered them a cold drink and some candy to strike up a conversation with them. They gladly consented and seemed to want to talk to us. Scott started talking to the Marine while I spoke to the couple. This made me realize why it is so good to go out in pairs. A real "tag team" of evangelization, if you will. Plus, this way I can listen to Scott's responses and learn from his wisdom. He really helps me know how to engage people in conversation about the faith and the advice he gives me I hold in high esteem.
The women I spoke to accepted a rosary from me gladly and let me put a miraculous medal around her neck. She started to tell me about her problems with meth addiction and how it had taken everything from her. She has three children who, for obvious reasons, were removed from her care. Mostly listening to her story, I chimed in to let her know I had experienced the same heartaches in my life at times. I was struck by her smile and her apparent lack of sadness. Her skin was smooth and glowing. It took some effort for me to notice the telltale signs that she was homeless. Her clothes were dirty and she had healing MRSA sores on her arms. Despite all this, before I left her, I hugged her. I like to touch the people we meet whenever I sense they want me to. I see Jesus in them, wanting to be touched and loved. I hope they see that not everyone is repulsed by their filthiness and that Jesus desires to embrace them as a loving Father. As this women was talking to me, I gazed into her eyes. They were clear and bright...a beautiful shade of light blue. This was another instance when I felt like I could see right into someone's soul and it was so beautiful I could see why Jesus wanted to claim it back for His own.
Some people make it much easier to see Jesus in them for they are more transparent. Some people seem to have a more clear soul, there is more goodness in them. Other people, when I look in their eyes, I see only darkness. The disturbing reality that some souls have chosen against God and have been consumed with evil. Its always those people who are the first to say that the devil has "no power" over them that they "aren't afraid of evil spirits". Scott and I shudder whenever we hear someone say those words, for we know what a formidable enemy the devil really is. I always say that the devil doesn't care if you know you're in his army or not, he doesn't need any kudos. He'll take anybody he can get to do his bidding. In fact, I think he prefers to lead his slaves of darkness in secret. That way, he can betray them at the last moment and they won't even know what hit them. Every time I think of it, I feel an icy chill wash over my soul.
As we said our goodbyes and kept walking, we started to pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy as is our custom when we are walking, waiting to see who God will send our way next. Walking over the bridge, looking out at the waters, along side my very best friend, I had a sense of real peace. I felt like Jesus was saying to me, "Yes, this is what I made you for... I had the real sense that Scott and I were very special to Jesus because we were wiling to let Him use us. We both share an unshakable conviction that Jesus and His Church are everything. There really is nothing else! We are not saints...but we want to be and thats what matters. Every day, we try, sometimes we fail. As Father Gabriel said in a homily once, "If you fall, pick yourself up and walk the way of the Cross with Our Lord!"
As we came to the end of the bridge, the first person we met was "John". John was leaning forward with his eyes closed, lost in a heroin nod. We woke him from his chemical coma by asking if he wanted a cold drink. He gladly took it and I put a miraculous medal around his neck. John then did something that is rare, but when it happens is so special. He asked us to pray for him right there. He looked so saddened as he told us that he experienced the soul of his diseased mother coming to ask for his help. He said he felt that her soul was in unrest and this greatly disturbed him. I instantly wondered if this meant her soul was crying out to her son from purgatory, because the souls of the damned have no such recourse. Scott put his hand on one of his shoulders and I on the other. I let Scott take the lead in prayer and I added my own petitions silently. We asked God to heal this young man and to help the souls of his mother find eternal rest. It is so wonderful when these types of encounters happen. It's amazing how certain souls recognize their need for intercessory prayer. This is the type of example I use to defend the pious practice of praying to the saints for their help, especially the Mother of God. As we left John, he thanked us sincerely for our prayers and seemed a little more at peace. I knew that after we left him he would fall forward, back into the abyss of the devils "rest".
We walked around some more and emptied our cooler, having brief conversations with the "poor in spirit." Each time I go out, I am keenly aware of two things. One, I understand why Jesus loves the poor so much and Two, that He expresses such great delight in us as we work for Him, being such wretched sinners who have turned in repentance.
Walking back over the bridge to our cars, Scott stopped to teach me some of his wisdom. I stood next to him as he pointed to a swimming pool in an apartment complex. It was a perfect shade of blue and sterile with chlorine. He said, "See that pool? That is what the devil offers. So "pristine" and "perfect". Now look over at the river and compare the sheer size of it to the pool. The river is what God offers. Notice the rushing, life giving waters of the river. All the fish that swim and the animals that drink from its source. Compare that life giving power to the swimming pool, where nothing can live as it is a chemical soup." Then he pointed to the river as a boat rushed by causing many large waves. He said, "See that boat? That boat is like one of the saints. Its one great missionary causing so many ripples in their wake, affecting a great multitude of souls." As I listened to him, I allowed the words he spoke to lull me into a place of serenity within me. He told me the giant trees on either side of the street were like giant angels in heaven and painted the whole scene so that I could really see it. I told him I could just imagine the two of us sitting with our favorite saints, no longer needing their relics because we had them right in front of us! Oh the stories they will tell us! Oh how we will reunite with them in the loving embrace of a long lost friend when we run up to them for the first time in heaven! We will sit at their feet and ask them all the questions we've been longing to ask. Ask them to tell us all their stories from their lives of such virtue and beauty...what a glorious day it will be. I am so grateful for my friendship with Scott who takes the time to impart his wisdom to me. He truly is so special to God.
As we move forward into the winter months in Portland, we are anticipating the rain and cold. We will fondly remember the bright shining sun and glittering waters of the river as we tread through the snow and bitterness of cold. This is the glory of our faith, that even in the suffering of penance, there is real beauty to behold united to the Cross of Christ. Soon, the summer will seem like just a dream as we walk in the spirit of penance, offering up all our little sufferings for the conversions of all the poor sinners we meet.
The weather has started to turn and rain is coming this next week. As I put my sweater on for the first time, I feel the sweetness of gratitude for all the graces God has given me this summer. In May I started walking the streets with Scott and my whole spiritual life changed. I've gained life-long friends and the knowledge of what God created me to do.
What more could I ask for?
Yesterday we went out fishing for men. Guided by the Holy Sprit, we try to let Him guide our words and actions. With a cooler full of ice cold gatorade in tow, Lisa and I took our handfuls of rosaries out to the streets. The encounters we would have this day are some I will never forget.
We started the day by going to mass together at Holy Rosary. On the way to mass, Lisa and I had a deep conversation during the car ride about the nature of the Christian mission. We blessed ourselves with my Saint Jude Oil from the National Shrine in San Francisco and I gave Lisa an adorable antique crocheted "nuns work" relic of an obscure blessed from South America. Lisa said that she smelled the sweet fragrance of roses in my car and asked me if I had sprayed something earlier. I said "No! It must be the fragrance of the Saints!" I wear around my neck relics of my patrons. Saint Gemma Galgani, Saint Paul of the Cross, Saint Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, Saint Margarete Mary Alacoque, Saint Francis De Sales and St. Francis De Chantel. I am in constant need of their help and I ask them throughout the day to increase my charity. On the way, I was telling Lisa that I had an intense interior experience the night before where Jesus impressed on me what I felt was a panic for the state of the lost souls in Portland. I had this feeling that there were so many souls out on the streets who had never heard about Jesus and His Church and because of their lifestyles, were in danger of losing their souls to hell. I had the feeling of "If you won't go, who will?" Suddenly I felt this intense urgency and sorrow that I wasn't doing enough. I had only been walking the streets once week, sometimes once very two weeks. I always try to go with someone else and because of my two year old, I am only available during normal working hours when most people are at their jobs. I had felt fine with this arrangement until the night before, when Jesus rebuked me and made me feel the desolation of these poor souls. They are wandering in the darkness of this sinful world with no one to show them the way. The Catholic presence on the streets in non existent it seems. I felt true sorrow for this and I was compelled to do more.
I had the feeling that as Catholics, we were shuttered in our Churches, having the joy of the Truth with us, and hoarding it for ourselves! I felt that I was not doing enough to help bring Jesus to people who don't know Him. I know, that as Catholics, if we are in a state of grace, we bring Jesus in the PHYSICAL sense too with us because of the Most Holy Eucharist! I've witnessed people crying when they see us coming, their souls recognizing the reality of Jesus. Possibly they cry from an afflicted conscious. They cry because the reality hits them that there is a loving God who sees them...loves them...who understands their pain. A God who wants to console their inmost hearts, to take them to Himself and conform them to His Glory.
As we started walking one of the first people we met was a man named "Ray". Ray had a joyful smile full of childlike trust and began to tell us how he used to hold a cardboard sign at the corner we were on. He said he asked Jesus to help him find work and quickly Our Lord answered his prayer. He had a modest job and no longer had to hold a sign and beg. Ray beamed with pride in the most beautiful way. He was so proud of Jesus, and kept telling us stories of times when He had saved his life. Once from alcohol poisoning in a doorway when Ray was all alone, late at night. Another time when he had major heart surgery and wasn't expected to live due to complications. He showed us his very large scar down the front of his chest which made quite the impression on us. With his face beaming with the biggest smile of gratitude, he told us how he knew Jesus had saved him. He thanked us repeatedly for bringing our cold drinks and sacramentals out to the streets. I gave Ray a rosary and put a miraculous medal around his neck. He happily took my Catholic Answers booklet about the Church as well and I told him about Holy Rosary being so close. As we walked away, Ray would do something that I think I will never forget. He held out his hand to offer me a twenty dollar bill, saying that he wanted to help me with the cost of my ministry. My heart was instantly made twice its size and tears swelled in my eyes. I could not believe that this homeless man would offer me twenty dollars out of love for our mission. Twenty dollars is A LOT of money to a homeless person! It would be like a "normal housed person" offering me $500!
I looked Ray in his eyes, putting my hand over my heart and said "Oh no, please keep it, but I am so grateful that you offered that to me. That just touched my heart!" He reluctantly looked down at the bill and then put it back in his pocket, beaming back at me with that ear to ear smile of his. I hugged him and we were on our way.
The next person we would meet will be burned into my memory as well. God had put a young man named "Ben" in our path. As he walked by, I offered him a cold gatorade, which he took gladly. Then, I tried to offer him a rosary which he refused to take, walking away saying rudely, "I'm not Catholic!." I told him you don't have to be Catholic to take a rosary. He angrily walked away and quickly turned the corner. He stopped to talk to two of his friends who were sitting on the ground. A man and a women who had 5 kids together, I'm assuming who were in the midst of some kind of child protective services crisis. As Lisa and I walked over to offer them rosaries and drinks, I took the opportunity to talk to Ben again. He stood there, skinny and covered in meth sores, his piercing blue eyes shining out through all the filth. The beauty I saw in his eyes made me realize the state of his wounded soul. Clutching his cardboard sign under his arm, he swayed back and forth, angrily telling me that he had been homeless for 10 years and was only 28! He told me that he hadn't prayed for anyone in many years. He was angry and he admitted he was taking out his anger on me. I smiled at him and told him that "I don't mind Ben, you can take out your anger on me." As I said this, his face smoothed out and softened, he relaxed his shoulders and stood still on both feet.
He opened up to me about his desolation, how he really felt terrible burden of his drug addiction and homelessness. He told me, "I just want to give up, I kind of want you to tell me that God is not real, but I know thats not true." I said, "God is real, and He sees you Ben and He loves you desperately." I told him about how I used to be homeless and how coming into the Church had saved me. He listened to me, admitting that he thought I was beautiful and thats why he gave me a second chance at a conversation. I thanked him for the compliment which came across as very innocent and non threatening. Then, he looked at me and said, "You know, no one takes me seriously....but YOU ARE, you really take me seriously don't you?!" I said, "Yes, I do. And other people should as well! You have just as much dignity as the richest person in this city! In fact, YOU, my friend, are much closer to the kingdom of heaven than the rich man is!...(I asked him) "What does Jesus say about a rich man entering heaven?" Bet answered, "Like a camel though the eye of needle...." I was delighted! He knew the scriptures! I said, "I would rather hang out with homeless people ANY DAY then rich people, the rich people are so ugly to us, they make fun of us and mock us. They don't usually want our rosaries or our company. I much prefer the poor! And so does Jesus!"
Ben graced me with a smile and I could see a little twinkle in his eye as I said this to him. Looking over at Lisa, crouched on the ground holding hands with the couple, I noticed she was praying with them. The man was crying as she prayed...clutching the rosary she had given him. I was blown away by the beauty of the moment and I was so grateful for my wonderful friends charism of intercessory prayer.
Before I walked away, I smiled and asked, "Ben, are you sure you don't want a rosary?" He said with a smile, "Ok, I'll take one." As I handed it to him, I asked if I could put a miraculous medal around his neck...He said yes! Smiling at him, seeing past all the sores and the dirt, I leaned toward him and lovingly, like a mother for her son, fastening the medal around his neck. I silently asked the Blessed Virgin to help Ben come to her Son. Patting the medal, I leaned back and said, "Maybe you could pray for me later, and I could pray for you...I could be that person that starts you praying for other people again!" He smiled and said, "Ok, I will." I told him how nice it was to spend time with him and I hoped to see him again. Lisa and I kept walking......
We crossed the bridge and handed out the rest of our cold water and gatorade to the homeless gathered around the rescue mission. People holding out their hands, begging to receive one of our rosaries, one man wanting an extra to give to his friend. He said he had a plastic rosary that he treasured but had lost. I was struck by longing for God these people have. They are so beautiful to me, their souls shining through the filth like a glowing diamond. The humility they exude, thanking us over and over again for the rosaries and medals.
I told them that I used to be homeless and addicted to IV herion, and they were shocked! I pulled up my sleeves to show them the scars I had from injecting and their jaws flew open! They said that by looking at me, they NEVER would have guessed I used to be a junkie! I laughed, saying to myself "Oh, if you only knew...." They asked me how I got clean, and I said I became Catholic and after receiving the Eucharist, Jesus came to dwell inside me. I told then Jesus healed me from the inside through the sacraments. That I was coming up on 3 years clean and sober." One of the young men exclaimed as he clutched his rosary, "WOW, thank you! You give me so much hope! Thank you!" I said, "Jesus is a real person, He saved me through His Catholic Church, He is God and He is just waiting to save you too!"
If all I did was give them some hope and encouragement that day, then it was a job well done. I am here to tell them about the Church. The saving power of the sacraments. The Eucharist, with the power to defeat the forces of hell inside us. Without it, I can see, not only in my life but in the life of others, the battle is one easily lost. We are simply not strong enough to fight the demon of addiction, we are small and weak. Alone we can do nothing, but with the Eucharist, and Jesus dwelling inside us, in the physical reality of our being, we will be victorious!
For it is He who has conquered sin and death. He payed the price with His blood, and now He desires to raise us to new life in Him.
As Catholics we have the answer to this crisis of addiction....let us spread the word that Christ has overcome the grave! Let us plant the seeds in people about the sacraments. May our lives serve as proof that miracles really do happen! That you, too, can be pulled out of the pit...you, too, can be healed, mind body and soul.
This is not a fairy tale...this is real life. Miracles really do happen!
May God bless you.
Early this year I started really committing myself to Eucharistic adoration. At first, it was really difficult for me to sit still and quiet. This struck me as interesting since I certainly did not have any issues with belief in the real presence. My soul was not able to sit quietly with Jesus yet, but what I found was that the more I "practiced" this devotion to adoration, the more natural it became.
It all started when I was leaving Holy Rosary Parish one day and noticed a flyer pinned to the board. It said that an adorer was needed for a certain hour and if I were interested to call. I thought, "This is my chance! I've been saying I wanted to pray a holy hour and now I can sign up for one!" So, I called and started going to my one scheduled hour each week.
At first, my mind would wander, and my thoughts would be scattered. I knew Jesus was there with me, literally in the same room, and I just kept asking Him to help me focus on adoring Him. I kept going, week after week, and during this process of being distracted and asking Him to help me, I arrived at a place where I wasn't asking Him anymore. I'm not sure how long it took for this to happen, but eventually, I realized that I was forgetting to look down at my watch and when I finally did, I had five minutes left! I noticed that I would be gazing up at the beautiful monstrance, knowing that I was looking at Jesus and everything else in the room would become blurry. Everything and everyone else would fade away until all I could see was Jesus in the Most Holy Eucharist. It was the most beautiful sight to me! There were times when I wold start to cry and it would hit me that here I was, sitting in front of God Himself, spending this hour adoring Him, instead of some other selfish activity I would have been doing only a year ago.
I started to want to spend more time with Him and soon I was going to adoration once a day. Oh, how I treasure that hour with Jesus every day, when I can just sit and gaze at Him in the monstrance, telling Him with my presence how much I love Him. Telling Him each time I enter the Church, "I'll stay awake with you Lord, I'm here with You, You don't have to be alone....I am here, My Love....."
My soul would whisper these things to Jesus, and I could feel Him loving me back in the most profound way. I could feel how happy it made Him that I would come and sit with Him for an hour. That what I was telling him by me being there was, "I'm not too busy for you, Lord. You are a priority to me. You are always on my mind."
I often will sit and read spiritual books as well, like the Diary of Saint Faustina or the Diary of St. Gemma Galgani. Through their writings I am really able to feel the Communion of Saints and I know I am part of a much larger family than I even realize. I keep a relic of St. Gemma and St. Margarete Mary Alacoque close to my heart all throughout my day. I ask them to help me to be holy, I ask them to show me how to love Jesus.
Each holy hour, each day...I fall deeper in love with Him. He is my love, my life, He is everything to me.
If you have been thinking about Eucharistic Adoration and haven't taken the plunge, I urge you to make time. Start small with one hour a week, then see where your heart leads you....Go and see what Jesus has to say to you in the quiet of your soul.
Someone once told me, "You can't love someone you don't know, and you can't know someone you don't spend time with!" This was such simple, yet profound, advice! The more time you spend with Jesus, the more you will get to know who He is, and the more you will love Him.
Father Vincent Kelber, O.P. baptizing my daughter Mackenna into the Church. Queen on the Most Holy Rosary Parish, Portland Oregon, 2017.
When I see this picture, I always look first to Father Vincent's face. The expression contained there is all that needs to be said. As he pours the life giving water over my seven year old daughters head, what goes through his mind? Is he thinking that in that moment, he is forever joining this little child to Christ's body, that this is a mark that will carry her to eternity? Is he thinking that he is washing away all stain of original sin, that he is literally Jesus' hands taking this little girl for Himself...claiming her soul for His Divine Love?
While I can imagine what goes through his mind as I look at this picture, I know one thing for sure. That I will be forever grateful to this most holy man for what he has done in my life.
He was the priest to hear my general confession, going back over the last 20 years of my life, he made me feel so loved in the sacrament of reconciliation. I truly felt the mercy of Jesus, not once even an inkling of condemnation. The compassion he showed to me was great, however he did not downplay what I had done and he allowed me to grieve the loss of my innocence. He permitted me to feel the shame and regret over my sins....By his reaction to the words I spoke, I fully grasped the severity of what I had done and at the same time, became aware that I was forgiven and deeply loved. Those words he spoke were powerful....
"God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit....."
Something supernatural had taken place. I felt the weight of the grievous sins of my past leave me. There was a sense, a real physical sense that my very existence had changed. God had used His priest to take my sins away from me. To absolve means to "set or declare someone free from blame, guilt, or responsibility." Yes, I truly felt that reality on this day.
Jesus knew that we would need to hear those words, actually said, by an ACTUAL human voice. That's why He, in His wisdom, instituted the sacrament of reconciliation. I'm telling you, if you're not Catholic, and have never confessed to a priest, you don't know what you're missing! To HEAR those words, from an audible voice, knowing that this man stands in 'Persona Christi', in the very person of Christ, it is powerful. When protestants ask me "Why do I have to confess my sins to a priest?", I can usually detect some pride in the tone of voice used, my answer is simple! "Because Jesus wants us to!, Because Jesus knows we need to HEAR THE WORDS." If you can humble yourself enough to confess your sins to a priest, and do it thoroughly and with contrition, I promise you, you will be on the road to heaven. You will be on your way to becoming a saint.
Only through the Catholic Church do we have the supernatural benefits of the absolution from sins. Does Jesus forgive you if you ask Him and really mean it? Of course He does, but He doesn't just leave us there! He takes it a step further and allows us the comfort of hearing....THE...WORDS. Jesus absolves through this sacrament. It is His divine prerogative to do so. He wills it for our good and we should be obedient.
Whatever you've done, however grievous or horrendous the sins you've committed.....BE NOT AFRAID! Come to Jesus in the sacrament of reconciliation! No matter what you've done, no matter how long you've been away, Come to Him! You will find in Him, through his priests, the loving embrace of the father who has waited so long for the return of His son.
If you're not Catholic, and this sounds like something you want, go to your local Catholic parish and ask about joining the Church. Don't wait any longer. Come find the peace you so desperately seek.
Looking again at that picture of Father Vincent with my daughter, I'm struck by so many emotions. So much gratitude for the sacrifice our priests make with their lives. They give everything to God and to His people. For this reason, we Catholics love and cherish our priests.
It is through their hands that the Bread of Life transforms us, it is through their voices that God takes away our sins and it is through their example that we can know the way to heaven.
May God bless you and His Mother protect you.
Yesterday we were at LoveJoy Surgicenter, an abortion clinic in Portland. I go out there and set up my little table with sacramentals and information about the Church, hoping to have some meaningful conversations with people passing by. Well, I met a women who fulfilled this prayer of mine. I'll just call her "Amy".
As we were standing in front of the clinic holding our signs and praying, Amy pulled up beside us in her car. She rolled down her window and started talking to my companion. I walked over to join the conversation, always seeing this as an opportunity to witness the culture of life to someone.
Amy starting by asking me if I had ever given a baby up for adoption, or had to bear the burden of raising a child all by myself, since I was "demanding other women do the same." I said, "As a matter of fact, ma'am, I've done both!"
I proceeded to tell her about my first son who was adopted at birth. I told her how, at that time, I was not capable of raising him and I felt that it would be best for him to go to a loving family who could take care of him. That he deserved better than I could give him. I also told her how beautiful he is, how big his smile is in the photos I see of him. I told her about his adoptive family, how much they thank me over an over again or giving them the baby that they were not able to have. How my baby was an answer to their prayers. I also made sure I didn't downplay the tremendous sacrifice and pain I went through giving my baby away, and the emptiness I felt when I was still recovering from the birth of my son, but he was gone, seemingly vanished. I also told her about how hard it was for me to carry him for 9 months when I was on and off again homeless. Especially in the later months of pregnancy then I was really big and my stomach was so heavy to carry around. I said how grateful I was for God's grace that allowed me to carry my baby to term, to lovingly give him up for adoption and to KNOW that HE IS ALIVE and that I didn't murder him! Oh how I thank God for that!
Amy patiently listened to everything I told her and was quiet. She then told me how she had worked with children who were in foster care and who were abused. She told me about the horror of child neglect and tried to justify abortion to me by these examples. I patiently listened to her and agreed with her on the common issues we kept. I said that we agree that child abuse is a horrible crime and we should do everything we can to prevent it and stop it. However I said this does not justify abortion just because there is a CHANCE that an unborn child MIGHT, sometime in the future experience some type of abuse!
I told her that her reasoning was faulty and wouldn't hold up under scrutiny.
It really was a wonderful exchange I had with this women and she was the nicest person to ever "argue" with me at an abortion clinic.
I lovingly asked her if she was a Christian, and she said yes. I told her that she should go back and read the scriptures again and see what Jesus has to say about human life. I asked her to reflect on how Jesus would feel about her telling me that "She will gladly pay for every women abortions who needed one!"
I told her that she didn't know Jesus if she thought that He would be ok with her stance. She agreed with me! I think that because I spoke to her in such a loving tone, she responded to me in a loving way also. She said, "no, you're right, I don't. Those are my opinions." I was so proud of her!
I spoke to Amy, leaning into her car and petting her dog for 15 minutes. At the end of the conversation, I just really asked her to think about her position and she told me the same.
Then, formally asked her what her name was and shook her hand, telling her mine. She said "Nice to meet you!" I said the same.
Then I asked her if I could give her my rosary I was holding in my hand. She hesitantly looked at me and said "Well, I don't know, I can't promise I'll do anything with it, but maybe you could set it there...(as she pointed to her passenger seat)"
I said, "Sure, you don't have to do anything with it Amy, I'm just going to set it right here on your seat.."
She said, "Ok" and smiled at me. I thanked her and she drove away waving.
Little did she know that that Saint Benedict rosary was exorcised by my priest. :)
Sometimes you have to be sneaky......
I'm praying for her conversion.
Today I was witness to a miracle. Before my very eyes, I saw a young man come back to health....and to life, through the power of prayer.
Today at the Planned Parenthood I witnessed a horrible car accident involving a young man that I did not know. He was probably in his late 20's I thought. As we were standing out front of the abortion facility with our signs and sacramentals, we all heard a thundering crashing sound that deafened the ears. I honestly thought someone had shot off a firearm close by, or a cannon. It was that loud.
When I looked, I saw a two car collision, about 50 feet from us, with one car being T boned by the other.
The car that was T boned was the young man's car. I ran over to check on the driver of the car, and the Rosary Brothers (nicknamed brothers from Holy Rosary Parish) were already over there. I asked if the driver was ok, and they said that he wasn't moving.
I ran over to the door of the car, peering inside I could see the driver with his head slumped over to his right, motionless, hands limp in his lap, eyes partially open but no sign of his pupils. I ripped the door open after I handed my phone to my friend to call 911. I knew that if he wasn't breathing I would have to do CPR, of which I am certified in. The car was still running and the music was playing, small billows of scentless white smoke were coming off the car. The airbag on the passengers side had deployed, but the one on his side had not. Thinking back now, if someone had been in the passengers side, they probably would have died.
I asked him if he could hear me and I looked for signs of breathing, knowing that I did not want to move him because I could injure him even more. I could see his chest was moving up in down in panicked breaths. Short and hollow. BUT he was breathing! His fingers were sort of curled in a way that was so strange to me. His neck was leaning back against the seat, with his head limp...no movement. It looked to me like he had broken his neck. If I hadn't seen his chest moving slightly with these shallow breaths, I would have thought he was a corpse. He did not move or respond to me calling out to him at all. I lovingly patted his leg telling him that I was with him and to not be afraid. I told him not to move and that we had called 911. The paramedics were on there way.
I felt myself getting dizzy and I realized that at this moment, this young man might die and I needed to pray. I began to cry as I realized how serious this situation actually was. I called out to God, "Oh, Lord Jesus, Have mercy on him! Save his life!"
I knelt down on the asphalt and took his hand, with the eerie curled fingers. As I rubbed his hand holding it, I began to pray out loud......Our Father....who art in heaven....then Hail Mary, Full of Grace.....finishing with Gory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit......
As I told him that Jesus loved him so much, and that He was here with us, I could see his breathing speed up, as though he were crying on the inside. There was no indication of life in any other part of his body, just his shallow breathing. Only once, during what I am sure was only a few minutes but seemed like an ETERNITY waiting for EMS, he moved his fingers slightly around mine as I held his hand.
I continued to talk to him, to make my voice sound as soothing as I could, even though I was tremendously scared. Holding his hand in mine, I kept repeating, "Oh Lord Jesus, have mercy! Have mercy!"
Then, the paramedics, fire truck and police arrived and I exclaimed " They are here! Hang in there!"
...I jumped out of their way as they crowded around to look at him, still slumped back, in his seatbelt.
I stood back on the sidewalk, watching, and praying...."Hail Mary, full of Grace.......the Lord is with thee....."
Begging Jesus to have mercy on this young man.
THEN, as I watched, the young man began to move his lips! They put a neck brace on him, and started to move him out of the car. I could see his lips moving and as they stood him up HE REACHED UP WITH HIS HAND to move his hat! I was blown away because I witnessed him slumped over and almost lifeless as I prayed with him.
They lay him on a gurney and went to go put him in the ambulance. I told my friend Therese what happened, and she said "Go give him a miraculous medal!" I just happened to have one in my pocket.
I asked the fireman if he would give it to him as I handed the medal to him. The fireman looked down at the medal briefly, and then looked at me and said "Ok". He walked over and put the medal on his gurney, telling him it was from us. They put him in the ambulance, and then it sat there for awhile with him in it! Which I knew was a GOOD SIGN! Therese also gave the firemen one of her cards with my name on it to give the young man too, just in case he ended up wanting to talk to us.
The other young women involved in the crash was also taken in an ambulance but she was talking and able to walk so I think she will be ok. I rubbed her back as I sat next to her telling her that I was so sorry she had been in this accident. Therese gave her a miraculous medal too, which she took with her in the ambulance.
I'm sure that what I witnessed today was a miracle! Jesus and the Virgin Mary were there, and they healed his body! I will continue to pray for his recovery and offer the masses I go to for him. I hope he knows how SPECIAL he is to Jesus and Mary! This was a Divine Appointment!
As I write this, I am remembering that today in adoration at Holy Rosary, I asked Jesus to send people to me who He wanted to come to His Church. To send people my way who He was calling into communion with Him and His Mother. I knew I was going to the abortion clinic and I sometimes will make this specific request to Him, thinking that it would entail a young women going into the clinic to abort her baby.
I had no idea that He was going to answer my request in this way. How wonderful that He uses us to help each other though intercessory prayer! He doesn't need us in order to show His power, but He chooses to use us, as feeble and wretched as we are!
He is so merciful! He is here and He loves us!
Call out to Him to save you! Call on the Virgin Mary! Pray your Rosary daily!
But be careful when you ask Him to use you...
you might just get what you desire...
The conversion story might seem a bit redundant, but I thought I would add the articles written about us from the Catholic Sentinel Newspaper here in Portland. :)
Today I was going back through all my old emails and finding really old pictures that I had forgotten about. Some of them were quite shocking to me. The way I was dressed and the obscene gestures that I was making. It seemed like I was staring at another person. Someone I did not recognize. I was shocked at how ugly I was. I don't just mean superficially, but you can really see the spiritual rot underneath. Underneath all the make up and slutty clothing, there was a depravity there that I had forgotten about! Honestly, it really upset me.
Then, I realized that I was so grateful to have seen these photos! To remember how much Jesus has done for me....how far He has brought me. I need reminders of just how wretched I actually am to humble me again. Pride is a tricky thing, it is a sneaky foe. It tries to make you feel like you are better than you actually are. I am good because He is good. I am kind because He is kind. He saw the tiny bit of good in me even back then. He saw me for what I would become. Yes, I cooperated with Him, so I can feel good about that.
Thinking back on it.....I always wanted to be good. I just didn't know how to be, because I was wicked and loved my sin. Abused my body with promiscuity, excessive tattoos, drug abuse, cutting and overeating. Revealing clothing and excessive makeup, my vanity could not be measured. How disgusted I am now thinking back on it! Thanks be to God He came to dwell within me!
I've been having my tattoos removed for the last year at Project Erase. I want them all gone....off my skin. Even though I have ruined my skin beyond repair, scars all over like train tracks, scars from injecting drugs and stretched out skin from excessive weight gain and then loss....I can still remove the hideous ink. As much as I can have them fade away, the better it will be. God made me so beautiful, my skin so smooth as a baby, so pure. Sprinkling freckles across my shoulders and nose....the perfect cover for this wonderful body he put my soul in. THEN, I disfigured it....I did everything in my power to destroy it. Like some hideous, cheap graffiti haphazardly sprayed on a beautiful stone wall.....in rebellion, saying to God..."The way you made it is not good enough! I have better ideas!"......Oh, how I've begged for forgiveness.....
So now, I do what I can. Any little thing I can do to show Him that I know....He DID do a good job when He made me! I am so grateful for Project Erase for helping me with my tattoo removal. I could never afford the procedures otherwise. The procedure is unbelievably painful. It feels like being burned with boiling oil....splattering on your skin. I unite it to the cross.
If anyone ever doubts the power of Almighty God.....look at my life.
ONLY JESUS could have taken a wretch like me from the night club scene, a drunken floozie wandering the dark alleys looking for a fix.....to someone now that sits in adoration every day, longing for the day when I will get to see Him face to face. Someone who experiences a "high" at every single daily mass that no drug could ever HOPE to compare to! The love of God is a high like no other.....one that we were meant to have. Only Jesus, knowing that we as humans would need the Eucharist....to go into our physical bodies, to be absorbed into our blood streams.....to flow to every single cell. His body, blood, soul and divinity.....in EVERY CELL!
He is slowly repairing all the damage that I've done. Some of the externals will never be fixed, and that's ok.
It's good to have reminders.......
Project Erase...after one of my procedures, talking to my mom.
Bye Bye Kitty. :)