Dear Sisters,
Thursday, August 6 started out like any other day. I woke up, had breakfast, took a shower and started the list of chores that I had designated for the day. My husband had gotten up very early to participate in a 5:00 AM telephone conference. By 10:00 AM he lay down for a nap and I had decided to take a peek at my email since it was a quiet activity.
A phone call came in just as he started to fall asleep and I ran to pick up the phone, but it was too late. He had heard the ring and I could hear his frustration at having been awakened so quickly from his much needed nap. The words "B is missing", spoken by my elder daughter put me in a state of utter confusion. "What do you mean she's missing?" B's manager at the firm where they both work had called to see if L knew why B hadn't shown up at work that day.
It was 10:00 AM! "Did you call her phone?" I asked. "Yes! She's not answering. Mom should I go see if she's at the townhouse? Her roommate isn't answering her phone either." But, L was on a deadline and besides, I could hear the fear in her voice.
P and I prayed together right there in the kitchen. It was the very first thing we did. We turned to our God, to our Father and put our fear and our love into the short heartfelt prayer.
A quick look at the ADOT website showed that the traffic in the direction that she would have gone was moving smoothly. No accidents had been reported. Not wanting to waste any time, I decided to drive to the townhouse to see if she was there.
Your mind goes through so many scenarios in just a few minutes of time. A kaleidoscope of calamities ran through my head. I didn't know what I would be walking into. I turned to the only thing that made any sense at that moment...prayer.
God himself gave me the grace to say to Him from the depths of my heart, "Thy will be done!" I asked Mary to be with her. I prayed to her Guardian Angel. And I told God that if she was already with Him, that I would need the strength to accept it.
At 10:15 AM a call came from my husband over the Bluetooth in the car. "I have her. She overslept. She can't imagine how she could have slept that long, but apparently she must have turned off her phone alarm and kept on sleeping."
I lived a lifetime in that 15 minutes and died a thousand deaths.
God was with me through every heart-wrenching second of time, He never left me, He never wavered. He carried me through the fear to true faith. The old saying that there are no atheists in a fox hole is something that I could attest to.
I am so grateful that at this moment in time, all is well with my world. My children are healthy and safe. My husband is a rock of strength and God is my fortress.
Dear Father,
Thank you for every moment with my family.
When they were young and living with me I would lay in bed filled with gratitude that they were under my roof.
I am not with them all the time now, but you are.
Thank you dearest God for allowing me to parent my children.
Thank you sweet Lord for the love we have as a family.
And as they walk their journey of life, please guide and protect them every step of the way.
Lord please keep away all evil influences of drugs, alcohol, promiscuity, and unworthy companions. I humbly ask that you send them virtuous and worthy companions. I pray for their souls.
Jesus I trust in you!
Amen!
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Monday, June 29, 2015
DREAMS
Dear Sisters,
I experienced an extremely vivid dream this morning.
I was in a shop. The shop had lovely things and beautiful displays. I was dressed in a long dress and it was obvious that I was pregnant. The shopkeeper wore a tall pointy hat, and was dressed in a heavy linen jacket and pants tucked into laced up boots. He wore a tied short scarf around his neck. His clerks were 3 young women with long hair also in long dresses.
A commotion in the street just outside the shop startled all of us. The shopkeeper immediately went to shutter the front doors and a clerk and I went to the back of the shop to secure a heavy wooden door with a large lock. A face appeared in the wide crack between the door and the stone wall. There was no acknowledgment at all in the man's eyes that we were part of the human race. His face was cold, his stare seemed to go right through us. I screamed in terror as he reached his hand in through the crack to try and prevent us from locking the door. At the last second the lock snapped into place and we ran back up the stairs into the shop.
The shopkeeper had opened a series of heavy doors leading down a long tunnel. He planned to send us through and then face the maddened crowd when they eventually broke into the shop. We begged him to come with us. Who would lead us where we needed to go? He looked back into the shop and with a sigh of resignation entered the tunnel, carefully sealing the doors behind us. 4 heavy doors in close proximity closed behind us. Before us there were 3 more doors each spaced about 10 ft apart. As before the shopkeeper sealed the doors carefully as he rushed us through. Finally we came down into a hollowed out cave. A narrow path next to a moving creek led toward an opening where we could see trees and shrubs. The shopkeeper bade us to "hurry, hurry" as we made our way carefully through the dark to the light. I put my hand protectively on the precious mound that was perceptible at this phase of the pregnancy and pushed on,
Our group climbed up an embankment, each helping the others, our shopkeeper sometimes in front of us and at other times giving us hushed instructions from behind. He knew exactly where to go as he led us to a large compound enclosed by tall stone walls. The guards at the gate recognized the shopkeeper and let our weary group through. For the first time we were able to take deep breaths. We were seized by trembling as our bodies released some of the adrenaline from the terror of the flight.
The shopkeeper had an audience with a personage of some stature. He seemed to me to be a wealthy man. The shopkeeper urged him to come with us as we searched for a safe harbor. He shook his head regretfully and looked at each of us sadly, but with determination. We were to leave the walled safety and keep moving away from the coming madness. The shopkeeper embraced the wealthy man and it struck me that their relationship was a familial one. I would have said a father and son relationship except for the fact that they were close in ages.
We were ushered up into a wagon pulled by two huge horses. In the wagon were provisions for the journey. I could see the wealthy man standing on a balcony as he watched us leave. The concern for our safety was written clearly on his face. I turned my head to the road ahead, put my hand on the resting babe within me and said a prayer.
Interpretation:
The shop with the lovely shiny things was a representation of the church with it's stained glass windows, lovely candles, gold ornamentation and statuary. The shopkeeper was a priest. The other ladies, represented all women; with their strength, loyalty and can-do attitude. My pregnancy is representative of every christian that is pregnant with the love and truth of Christ. We carry Him with us everywhere and we nurture His presence within us, clearly showing the world the evidence of our devotion.
The crowd outside the shop represented society. They are outside the church, but they want to come in, not to love and adore the King of Kings, but to destroy all the Church offers and witnesses to. The man at the back door crack was a representative of those that see no humanity in a fetus, a person in a coma or an elderly person in need. The blank stare is cold and dead, not understanding that every moment of life is precious. The sacrament of marriage too was being sought for destruction and the priest knew that eventually the church would be breached and we needed to flee. Note that the other lady and I that went to close and lock the door had to go down to the street level but we climbed back up into the church. Let us always climb up!
I am not sure what the heavy doors represented, but I have a sense that they were pillars of our church; the communion of saints, the sacraments, the catechism, and the like. The doors kept us safe from those that would harm us. The fear I felt wasn't only physical, but existential as we passed through the darkness. My soul was at stake. The dark is the times that are coming soon. Our Church is sure to be persecuted and we'll have a difficult time seeing our way through the awful gloom.
The priest had a willingness to stay behind and sacrifice himself for our safety and to do what he could for the deadened society. We pleaded for the priest to come with us, because he had knowledge of the journey and we needed his guidance so much. We urged him to move ahead of us and show us the way as we hurried along. We needed him to lead, not just to whisper from behind.
The house the priest led us to was the bishop's stronghold. The bishop provided what he could for our journey, giving us provisions-the sacraments and sacramentals that we needed to keep going. He loved the priest and gave him his blessing to continue with us. He stayed behind, because his duty is to try with all his strength to preach the truth; the truth about life and the truth about marriage. God's truth. The crowd just wanted to destroy. They not only will not accept the truths taught by the Church, they want the Church's utter destruction.
The wagon represents groups like Endow that give us the shelter and the means to escape the madness. The women of course represented the feminine genius and spiritual motherhood that the world is so in need of. As a woman brought sin into the world, another more perfect woman with her obedience righted that sin by giving an unqualified yes to God. The women in the wagon represented women everywhere who are charged with bringing society back to God and to his church.
Sisters, a heavy burden has been placed on us by Almighty God. He expects us to teach truth to our children and all of society is ours in our spiritual motherhood. He expects us to live truth. To be a counter-culture of love in a society torn by hate. He expects us to say YES to him every moment of every day.
Let's get on the wagon and arm in arm, with Jesus within us, witness His truth to the world!
Your sister in Christ,
Prayer Warrior
I experienced an extremely vivid dream this morning.
I was in a shop. The shop had lovely things and beautiful displays. I was dressed in a long dress and it was obvious that I was pregnant. The shopkeeper wore a tall pointy hat, and was dressed in a heavy linen jacket and pants tucked into laced up boots. He wore a tied short scarf around his neck. His clerks were 3 young women with long hair also in long dresses.
A commotion in the street just outside the shop startled all of us. The shopkeeper immediately went to shutter the front doors and a clerk and I went to the back of the shop to secure a heavy wooden door with a large lock. A face appeared in the wide crack between the door and the stone wall. There was no acknowledgment at all in the man's eyes that we were part of the human race. His face was cold, his stare seemed to go right through us. I screamed in terror as he reached his hand in through the crack to try and prevent us from locking the door. At the last second the lock snapped into place and we ran back up the stairs into the shop.
The shopkeeper had opened a series of heavy doors leading down a long tunnel. He planned to send us through and then face the maddened crowd when they eventually broke into the shop. We begged him to come with us. Who would lead us where we needed to go? He looked back into the shop and with a sigh of resignation entered the tunnel, carefully sealing the doors behind us. 4 heavy doors in close proximity closed behind us. Before us there were 3 more doors each spaced about 10 ft apart. As before the shopkeeper sealed the doors carefully as he rushed us through. Finally we came down into a hollowed out cave. A narrow path next to a moving creek led toward an opening where we could see trees and shrubs. The shopkeeper bade us to "hurry, hurry" as we made our way carefully through the dark to the light. I put my hand protectively on the precious mound that was perceptible at this phase of the pregnancy and pushed on,
Our group climbed up an embankment, each helping the others, our shopkeeper sometimes in front of us and at other times giving us hushed instructions from behind. He knew exactly where to go as he led us to a large compound enclosed by tall stone walls. The guards at the gate recognized the shopkeeper and let our weary group through. For the first time we were able to take deep breaths. We were seized by trembling as our bodies released some of the adrenaline from the terror of the flight.
The shopkeeper had an audience with a personage of some stature. He seemed to me to be a wealthy man. The shopkeeper urged him to come with us as we searched for a safe harbor. He shook his head regretfully and looked at each of us sadly, but with determination. We were to leave the walled safety and keep moving away from the coming madness. The shopkeeper embraced the wealthy man and it struck me that their relationship was a familial one. I would have said a father and son relationship except for the fact that they were close in ages.
We were ushered up into a wagon pulled by two huge horses. In the wagon were provisions for the journey. I could see the wealthy man standing on a balcony as he watched us leave. The concern for our safety was written clearly on his face. I turned my head to the road ahead, put my hand on the resting babe within me and said a prayer.
Interpretation:
The shop with the lovely shiny things was a representation of the church with it's stained glass windows, lovely candles, gold ornamentation and statuary. The shopkeeper was a priest. The other ladies, represented all women; with their strength, loyalty and can-do attitude. My pregnancy is representative of every christian that is pregnant with the love and truth of Christ. We carry Him with us everywhere and we nurture His presence within us, clearly showing the world the evidence of our devotion.
The crowd outside the shop represented society. They are outside the church, but they want to come in, not to love and adore the King of Kings, but to destroy all the Church offers and witnesses to. The man at the back door crack was a representative of those that see no humanity in a fetus, a person in a coma or an elderly person in need. The blank stare is cold and dead, not understanding that every moment of life is precious. The sacrament of marriage too was being sought for destruction and the priest knew that eventually the church would be breached and we needed to flee. Note that the other lady and I that went to close and lock the door had to go down to the street level but we climbed back up into the church. Let us always climb up!
I am not sure what the heavy doors represented, but I have a sense that they were pillars of our church; the communion of saints, the sacraments, the catechism, and the like. The doors kept us safe from those that would harm us. The fear I felt wasn't only physical, but existential as we passed through the darkness. My soul was at stake. The dark is the times that are coming soon. Our Church is sure to be persecuted and we'll have a difficult time seeing our way through the awful gloom.
The priest had a willingness to stay behind and sacrifice himself for our safety and to do what he could for the deadened society. We pleaded for the priest to come with us, because he had knowledge of the journey and we needed his guidance so much. We urged him to move ahead of us and show us the way as we hurried along. We needed him to lead, not just to whisper from behind.
The house the priest led us to was the bishop's stronghold. The bishop provided what he could for our journey, giving us provisions-the sacraments and sacramentals that we needed to keep going. He loved the priest and gave him his blessing to continue with us. He stayed behind, because his duty is to try with all his strength to preach the truth; the truth about life and the truth about marriage. God's truth. The crowd just wanted to destroy. They not only will not accept the truths taught by the Church, they want the Church's utter destruction.
The wagon represents groups like Endow that give us the shelter and the means to escape the madness. The women of course represented the feminine genius and spiritual motherhood that the world is so in need of. As a woman brought sin into the world, another more perfect woman with her obedience righted that sin by giving an unqualified yes to God. The women in the wagon represented women everywhere who are charged with bringing society back to God and to his church.
Sisters, a heavy burden has been placed on us by Almighty God. He expects us to teach truth to our children and all of society is ours in our spiritual motherhood. He expects us to live truth. To be a counter-culture of love in a society torn by hate. He expects us to say YES to him every moment of every day.
Let's get on the wagon and arm in arm, with Jesus within us, witness His truth to the world!
Your sister in Christ,
Prayer Warrior
Sunday, June 21, 2015
LOVE
Dear Sisters,
I'm back! I've been in a desert of anxiety for over a year. Finally I feel myself start to relax and allow the Holy Spirit to work in me and through me. My words have been dry as I wrestled with the outrageous demands of my job.
I felt completely hollowed out. The anxiety didn't allow for words to be written, but only felt deeply; too deeply to ever be brought out to the surface. When I am the most hurt, that is when I am the most quiet. If I am raging and expressing my frustration, anger or hurt, that is a sign that while wounded, I am not helpless in the pain. When I go silent however the hurt is so deep, so vast, so dark that there are no words to describe the pain that I'm drowning in. That was the hurt I was in this past year.
I learned that through it all, I had friends who sustained me.
I learned that Jesus carried me in his arms and shielded me.
I learned that when one hurts on that level, it is hard to keep your feet moving and even harder to keep the words flowing.
I learned that I am still capable of love in that dark place because the author of love carried me tenderly in His arms.
I learned that my family centers me.
I learned that I am very strong, but not as strong as I thought I was.
I learned that even though my words were silent, my soul was soaking up the experience to use for the good of others.
Thank you dear sisters for praying for me and being there for me throughout my struggle. No doubt God has given us to each other as a gift for these times in our lives.
God lives!
Let us rejoice and be glad!
Your sister in Christ,
Prayer Warrior
I'm back! I've been in a desert of anxiety for over a year. Finally I feel myself start to relax and allow the Holy Spirit to work in me and through me. My words have been dry as I wrestled with the outrageous demands of my job.
I felt completely hollowed out. The anxiety didn't allow for words to be written, but only felt deeply; too deeply to ever be brought out to the surface. When I am the most hurt, that is when I am the most quiet. If I am raging and expressing my frustration, anger or hurt, that is a sign that while wounded, I am not helpless in the pain. When I go silent however the hurt is so deep, so vast, so dark that there are no words to describe the pain that I'm drowning in. That was the hurt I was in this past year.
I learned that through it all, I had friends who sustained me.
I learned that Jesus carried me in his arms and shielded me.
I learned that when one hurts on that level, it is hard to keep your feet moving and even harder to keep the words flowing.
I learned that I am still capable of love in that dark place because the author of love carried me tenderly in His arms.
I learned that my family centers me.
I learned that I am very strong, but not as strong as I thought I was.
I learned that even though my words were silent, my soul was soaking up the experience to use for the good of others.
Thank you dear sisters for praying for me and being there for me throughout my struggle. No doubt God has given us to each other as a gift for these times in our lives.
God lives!
Let us rejoice and be glad!
Your sister in Christ,
Prayer Warrior
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Wash Me Lord
Dear Sisters,
I was at mass last week and following along in the Magnificat. Using this guide, I am much more focused in the mass and 'in the moment'. Only1holyspirit introduced me to the Magnificat several years ago. In our time together, I have added small devotions and aides in my spiritual journey. Each of you has added something unique to this faith walk. Thank you Sisters for your constant companionship, support and love. Please know that your intentions are prayed for often as I know you do the same for me.
Back to the subject of this blog...There is a moment in the mass when the Priest says "Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin." In an instant, I was reminded of the passage in Matthew 27:24
So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing , but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, "I am innocent of this righteous man's blood;see to it yourselves."
The actions of the priest on Sunday and of Pilot before the Crucifixion seemed oddly similar. I was arrested for a few minutes as I pondered why this should be.
The difference of course is that in Pilot's case he believes his words and gestures have meaning because of his exalted self-image. The priest however is humble in his request that THE LORD wash him of his sin and iniquity. He knows well that he does nothing on his own power and only through the mercy and grace of God can the gesture of water on his hands truly do what he speaks...that is cleanse him.
The more I study and ponder the way of the Lord, I see that the battles we face today are the same battles faced throughout time. So many in our society believe as Pilot did that by taking a different path and cleaning up their act, that they somehow have made reparation for past wrongs. They believe that of their own power they can change the course of their lives. They rely on their own gestures, words and belief in their own guts with no glance upward to God. They believe in something that can never make them clean or whole...their own power.
If they only understood that just a few moments in a confessional could do more good for their lives than a million empty gestures and words ever could. Those of us that enter the confessional believe not in our power, but in God's. We know that we can't possibly change anything in our lives, nor can our past be whitewashed and forgiven just because we are now 'good people'. The sin remains until we do as the priest does and humbly go before the Lord and ask that we be washed of our sins. And what does this loving God of ours do? He washes us clean in His blood!
The confidence I have Lord is in your unfathomable mercy. I humbly ask you to forgive me my sins and ask for the grace to live in obedience to your will.
AMEN
Your broken pencil...
I was at mass last week and following along in the Magnificat. Using this guide, I am much more focused in the mass and 'in the moment'. Only1holyspirit introduced me to the Magnificat several years ago. In our time together, I have added small devotions and aides in my spiritual journey. Each of you has added something unique to this faith walk. Thank you Sisters for your constant companionship, support and love. Please know that your intentions are prayed for often as I know you do the same for me.
Back to the subject of this blog...There is a moment in the mass when the Priest says "Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin." In an instant, I was reminded of the passage in Matthew 27:24
So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing , but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, "I am innocent of this righteous man's blood;see to it yourselves."
The actions of the priest on Sunday and of Pilot before the Crucifixion seemed oddly similar. I was arrested for a few minutes as I pondered why this should be.
The difference of course is that in Pilot's case he believes his words and gestures have meaning because of his exalted self-image. The priest however is humble in his request that THE LORD wash him of his sin and iniquity. He knows well that he does nothing on his own power and only through the mercy and grace of God can the gesture of water on his hands truly do what he speaks...that is cleanse him.
The more I study and ponder the way of the Lord, I see that the battles we face today are the same battles faced throughout time. So many in our society believe as Pilot did that by taking a different path and cleaning up their act, that they somehow have made reparation for past wrongs. They believe that of their own power they can change the course of their lives. They rely on their own gestures, words and belief in their own guts with no glance upward to God. They believe in something that can never make them clean or whole...their own power.
If they only understood that just a few moments in a confessional could do more good for their lives than a million empty gestures and words ever could. Those of us that enter the confessional believe not in our power, but in God's. We know that we can't possibly change anything in our lives, nor can our past be whitewashed and forgiven just because we are now 'good people'. The sin remains until we do as the priest does and humbly go before the Lord and ask that we be washed of our sins. And what does this loving God of ours do? He washes us clean in His blood!
The confidence I have Lord is in your unfathomable mercy. I humbly ask you to forgive me my sins and ask for the grace to live in obedience to your will.
AMEN
Your broken pencil...
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Behold the Empty Tomb!
Dear Sisters,
God's glory goes out throughout the world this Easter and I send you my love. The meditation below has each of our first name initials instead of our usual monikers as I wished the images to flow.
Upon entering the church for the Easter Vigil, I had the giddy joy of a child about to pounce on presents at Christmas. My mind wandered to Jerusalem and the empty tomb. I could see all of us running toward the tomb. A unfettered kind of joy was bubbling up as we sprinted with young legs over the cobbled and uneven pavements of the narrow Jerusalem streets. Our path was filled with expectation even though we KNEW the tomb was empty. How different our effervescent joy compared to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they made their way to the tomb on Easter morning. They were hoping to anoint the Lord's body with the oils and herbs of death. Their hearts were heavy and they were hollowed out from crying.
The images playing out in my head were ones of childish laughter, giggly chatter and all bright happiness. I passed K as she ran towards the tomb. Up ahead, E was being led by a little angel, her granddaughter. She looked back at E eyes twinkling and laughing, tugging her hand and urging her to move faster. I caught up to M who beamed a smile as I grabbed her hand. T and S came from adjoining side roads and joined our little, joyous parade. B and J were already standing in front of the opening to the tomb. Both looked back and stretched out their arms to the rest of us. We stood side by side arms embraced as we took in the the head cloth, rolled and off to the side and the shroud flat on the stone.
He did it! He conquered death! He said he would, but right here, in front of the open tomb we understood that death would not hold us either. Death had died. Jesus, our Lord, our Love, our Joy had broken the chains that death had on our souls and we were now free to soar into heaven.
I basked in your company as I gazed at the empty tomb.
Jesus our King will reign forever!!!
A blessed Easter to you all...
Love,
V
God's glory goes out throughout the world this Easter and I send you my love. The meditation below has each of our first name initials instead of our usual monikers as I wished the images to flow.
Upon entering the church for the Easter Vigil, I had the giddy joy of a child about to pounce on presents at Christmas. My mind wandered to Jerusalem and the empty tomb. I could see all of us running toward the tomb. A unfettered kind of joy was bubbling up as we sprinted with young legs over the cobbled and uneven pavements of the narrow Jerusalem streets. Our path was filled with expectation even though we KNEW the tomb was empty. How different our effervescent joy compared to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they made their way to the tomb on Easter morning. They were hoping to anoint the Lord's body with the oils and herbs of death. Their hearts were heavy and they were hollowed out from crying.
The images playing out in my head were ones of childish laughter, giggly chatter and all bright happiness. I passed K as she ran towards the tomb. Up ahead, E was being led by a little angel, her granddaughter. She looked back at E eyes twinkling and laughing, tugging her hand and urging her to move faster. I caught up to M who beamed a smile as I grabbed her hand. T and S came from adjoining side roads and joined our little, joyous parade. B and J were already standing in front of the opening to the tomb. Both looked back and stretched out their arms to the rest of us. We stood side by side arms embraced as we took in the the head cloth, rolled and off to the side and the shroud flat on the stone.
He did it! He conquered death! He said he would, but right here, in front of the open tomb we understood that death would not hold us either. Death had died. Jesus, our Lord, our Love, our Joy had broken the chains that death had on our souls and we were now free to soar into heaven.
I basked in your company as I gazed at the empty tomb.
Jesus our King will reign forever!!!
A blessed Easter to you all...
Love,
V
Monday, March 31, 2014
Total Consecration-March 25, 2014
Dear Sisters,
Our Lady took my hand and led me through to the Feast of the Annunciation where I gave myself to her. I willingly follow her promptings now, and they always lead me to her baby.
I'd been sick almost the entire consecration period. After chest x-ray, blood drawn, two rounds of antibiotics and steroids, the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. Only1HolySpirit, pointed out that she thought my illness was a sort of purge of all the stuff that I needed to shed before the consecration. It makes a lot of sense as I've been healthy since I made the consecration.
I decided that I needed to do the consecration at a mass where I could take my time in prayer. As I had to work that day, the options at our local parish were not right for this important step in my faith journey. But thank God for St. Tim's. Our Lady's Prayer Group meets there every Tuesday night at 7PM to say the Rosary, the Chaplet and a mass. This fit in perfectly with my plans. I opted to leave the house at 6PM so that I could have time to say the final prayers and to sign the consecration document. I was listening to Immaculate Heart Radio and Mother Angelica's show taped sometime in the 90's came on. She talked about her own consecration to Our Lady on this very day so many years before. Tears came to my eyes as I realized that I was making my consecration on the same day that this living saint had made hers. From now on I will share this anniversary with Mother Angelica. Imagine that! But really it's even better than that...
Early in the consecration process, I realized that the Feast of the Annunciation is also the day that Louis de Montfort made his own consecration. I had picked this Marian feast as my own consecration day without realizing it's significance. God is GREAT!!
A mass of clouds followed me all the way to the church. It looked like a dust storm was brewing. I got out of the car and went to the Rosary project that a friend of mine's son did for his Eagle project. It's gorgeous. He got an artist to paint the pictures of the different meditations. As you walk the rosary path, you have ten stepping stones for each Hail Mary and then you stop at the the meditation for that day. It is so well done.
Entering the church is always impactful. The mural takes your breath when you first see it again. How beautiful is the representation of our brothers and sisters in the faith! I asked them to pray for me and I made the final vows of consecration and signed the book.
The night was wonderful and during mass, Father asked if anyone was doing their consecration and I raised my hand. Some of the people there were celebrating the anniversary of their consecration. An all around wonderful night.
I feel like a child again, looking to my Mother for guidance, love, safety and example. She is so beautiful and so loving and so very patient with her children. And all of you are my sisters under her mantle. We image her and emulate her by giving birth to Jesus in our hearts.
Mother,
I give myself to you.
Help me to use my feminine genius to its fullest in my work, family,and friendships.
Take my hand each day and lead me to your son.
Let me work to please Him always.
I am grateful to you for your love and guidance.
Tuus Totus
Our Lady took my hand and led me through to the Feast of the Annunciation where I gave myself to her. I willingly follow her promptings now, and they always lead me to her baby.
I'd been sick almost the entire consecration period. After chest x-ray, blood drawn, two rounds of antibiotics and steroids, the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong. Only1HolySpirit, pointed out that she thought my illness was a sort of purge of all the stuff that I needed to shed before the consecration. It makes a lot of sense as I've been healthy since I made the consecration.
I decided that I needed to do the consecration at a mass where I could take my time in prayer. As I had to work that day, the options at our local parish were not right for this important step in my faith journey. But thank God for St. Tim's. Our Lady's Prayer Group meets there every Tuesday night at 7PM to say the Rosary, the Chaplet and a mass. This fit in perfectly with my plans. I opted to leave the house at 6PM so that I could have time to say the final prayers and to sign the consecration document. I was listening to Immaculate Heart Radio and Mother Angelica's show taped sometime in the 90's came on. She talked about her own consecration to Our Lady on this very day so many years before. Tears came to my eyes as I realized that I was making my consecration on the same day that this living saint had made hers. From now on I will share this anniversary with Mother Angelica. Imagine that! But really it's even better than that...
Early in the consecration process, I realized that the Feast of the Annunciation is also the day that Louis de Montfort made his own consecration. I had picked this Marian feast as my own consecration day without realizing it's significance. God is GREAT!!
A mass of clouds followed me all the way to the church. It looked like a dust storm was brewing. I got out of the car and went to the Rosary project that a friend of mine's son did for his Eagle project. It's gorgeous. He got an artist to paint the pictures of the different meditations. As you walk the rosary path, you have ten stepping stones for each Hail Mary and then you stop at the the meditation for that day. It is so well done.
Entering the church is always impactful. The mural takes your breath when you first see it again. How beautiful is the representation of our brothers and sisters in the faith! I asked them to pray for me and I made the final vows of consecration and signed the book.
The night was wonderful and during mass, Father asked if anyone was doing their consecration and I raised my hand. Some of the people there were celebrating the anniversary of their consecration. An all around wonderful night.
I feel like a child again, looking to my Mother for guidance, love, safety and example. She is so beautiful and so loving and so very patient with her children. And all of you are my sisters under her mantle. We image her and emulate her by giving birth to Jesus in our hearts.
Mother,
I give myself to you.
Help me to use my feminine genius to its fullest in my work, family,and friendships.
Take my hand each day and lead me to your son.
Let me work to please Him always.
I am grateful to you for your love and guidance.
Tuus Totus
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Total Consecration
Dear Sisters,
What a lovely journey I've taken during this lent! I have a wonderful tour guide in St. Louis de Montfort. He's brought me through the heights of my conceit, the valley of my selfishness and through the bog of my laziness. He brought me to a mirror where I was shown who I can be...a beautiful image that I yearn to become. God loves me so much; I am humbled and like a small child who knows that if they hold up their arms that their papa will pick them up and hold them close to their heart, I tuck myself into a small little bundle and fling myself into Mary's arms. She holds me tight, rocks me and hands me over to Jesus. Can there be greater bliss?
What a lovely journey I've taken during this lent! I have a wonderful tour guide in St. Louis de Montfort. He's brought me through the heights of my conceit, the valley of my selfishness and through the bog of my laziness. He brought me to a mirror where I was shown who I can be...a beautiful image that I yearn to become. God loves me so much; I am humbled and like a small child who knows that if they hold up their arms that their papa will pick them up and hold them close to their heart, I tuck myself into a small little bundle and fling myself into Mary's arms. She holds me tight, rocks me and hands me over to Jesus. Can there be greater bliss?
I am in Week Two: Knowledge of Mary. The captions reads;
Mary must be known and openly revealed by the Holy Spirit so that Jesus may be known and loved through her.-St, Louis de Montfort
The question today is; Christ goes so far as to share even his Mother with us so that she might be our Mother as well. What does it mean for you to have Mary as your Mother?
I am so struck today by the way that Jesus holds nothing back for himself. He gave us his body, his blood, he shares his divinity by offering us his Father as "Our Father" and he even shares his Mother with us from the cross. Total giving born of total love.
I know that we are all familiar with the natural little jealousies that happen between siblings in regards to their parents. When my kids were young and I was speaking to one of them, sometimes the other child would put her little hands on my face and turn my attention, literally, to them instead. That natural 'look at me!' instinct is strong and needs an act of detachment and love of another to be overcome.
No one knows Jesus' ways more than His dear Mama. We can learn so much from Mary who lived a hidden life with Jesus and is still by His side. As I give myself to Mary, I ask her to show me how to die to self so that Jesus can live through me. I ask Mary to show me how to give birth to Jesus in my heart. I ask her to keep me close so that I might not stray. I ask her to show me how to please Jesus. I ask her to help me be a true helpmate to my spouse and a loving mother to my children. It occurs to me that having Mary as my mother is the surest way to permanent union with God's family.
As my Mother, she introduces me to her other children, the saints that have gone before. She can send her children to us to teach us different lessons that we need to learn. How beautiful to learn contemplation form Teresa of Avila, or courage from Joan of Arc, or knowledge of scripture from St. Paul... She can help me on my journey sending her sons and daughters, my brothers and sisters in faith to me. As my earthly mother had my brothers and sisters help me in various ways; my brother taught me to ride a bike, my sister helped me with homework, my other sister would feed me when I was a baby, etc. our Mother Mary will likewise send helpers my way so that I stay on the narrow path. And of course, she will always point the way to THE WAY, THE TRUTH and THE LIFE-JESUS!!
Dear Mother,
I put myself in your loving hands. Consider me your little child. Teach me Mother that I may learn the way to please Jesus. I too want to give birth to Him in my life...show me the way.
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