What wife and mother out there doesn't suffer? What greater sorrow can
any mother have than to see a child suffer? During the years of the public
ministry, those who came to know us believed, naively, that our children
(we have two sons) were exempt from imperfections, for all manner of
illness, disease and sin. I wanted so often to ask these people why they
believed this, but I didn't. God told me that I would not get a true
answer, and to bear all things patiently, for in time I would come to
understand.
I am coming now to understand. All in God's time, as He Wills, does He
reveal what we need to know for our own good.
Our sons suffered tremendous persecution, ridicule, and much, much more in
the course of our public ministry. They were the "victims" also of
ridiculous people who put all the emphasis on the messenger and never
stopped long enough to pray over, meditate upon and discern the messages,
which were the keynote of the apostolate then, never me.
Now, these many years later, the fruit of that public ministry, the
terrible mistreatment of our children by so many who professed to love in
Christ's name, have born sufferings that tear at the heart and the
emotions, that would otherwise shred faith into a gossamer scrap that would
blow away so quickly one would never notice it going. Our oldest son has
been given a great cross to bear, and we, as his parents, and I as his
mother, bear that cross no less than he does. He has suffered a severe
blow to the head some years ago, and was also treated with a new
"antibiotic" which has since proved to be the cause of "psychotic" episodes
that are irreversible. Because of these things, our oldest son is now
totally enveloped in what I term "black cellophane" wherein he cannot find
God, he cannot find the reason to live, to be happy over anything, to enjoy
his teenage years, etc. Instead, he suffers from severe depression that
has hospitalized him, and has literally brought my husband and I to the
point of homelessness. His treatment will be ongoing until the Triumph of
Mary's Immaculate Heart. He doesn't understand now that he will, one day,
be better. He doesn't understand that the Triumph for which we work and
pray is close at hand. He can't see that far ahead. Rather, our oldest
son is caught in the web of the evil one's snares set and enacted by many
along the way who sought us out not for God's Will, but for their own will.
In all of this, I have learned also from God, as if the knowledge was
placed in my heart in an instant, that it is all part of His Perfect Plan,
and that, in the end, God shall claim the victory. In this suffering, as
there must be in all suffering, there is a symphony at work. We, with our
earthly ears, cannot hear the symphony being played. We hear the tears,
see the pain, feel our own hearts breaking, have concerns, anxious moments
and overburdened brains that are striving to make prudent decisions to keep
our son well and keep a roof over our head at the same time. However, I
believe that all suffering, if given to God, if united to the Passion of
Our Lord, is a beautiful symphony that the angels hear and repeat before
the throne of the Triune Divinity.
It is not that we are not to cry, weep, hurt, and feel the anguish of
illness and disease. If we didn't feel these things, then of what value
would they be in redemptive suffering? However, we do not have to cry,
weep, hurt, and feel anguish as people who are without hope. No matter how
much it hurts, I am reminded that my hurt as a mother is a mere shadow of
what Our Blessed Mother felt in her lifetime, and the pain that my son
feels, that we share with him, is but a smattering of what Our Lord
suffered in His Most Sacred Passion.
I have learned that the greatest prayer is the one that comes from the
will, not from the feelings, not because there's a spinning sun or a rosary
turning gold in your hands as you pray, nor a statue of the Blessed Mother
weeping a few feet in front of your face. The prayer that brings torrents
of mercy upon us, and upon the world, is the prayer that rises from faith
that seeks God who is Love, Mercy, Justice and all Hope and Trust.
I am not saying that God's chosen messengers and visionaries do not have a
role in His Perfect Plan. I am not saying that we shouldn't pay attention
to apparitions and the messages from Heaven. Far from it! I am certain
that God does not waste Time, and therefore if God deems it vital that
Heaven speaks for the sake of mankind, then we, as His children, must pay
attention and do what is being asked of us.
I am saying, however, that the wonders and signs we all hunger for are
there, and they are extra graces from God, like icing on the cake of grace.
However, they are not the platform upon which faith rests, nor should they
be. Like icicles on a sunny day, these "extraordinary" signs and wonders
can soon melt away in the blithering distractions, lukewarmness, and
cold-heartedness of the human condition. Real faith, the faith the blazes
like a shooting star in the night sky, that is the lamp kept lit by the
wise virgins, foregoes any desire to seek or chase or follow after signs
and wonders, but waits with expectant hope for the promises of Christ to be
fulfilled. Real faith is the faith that sees God's hand in all suffering
accepts the suffering and unites that suffering to His Sacred Passion. It
is real faith that sees the injuries done to one, or to one's sons, and
husband, and real faith that prays for the grace to forgive as Christ
forgives. Real faith embarks upon each day with renewed hope and trust and
love, and keeps the ship of faith floating toward the Heavenly Shore, even
though the lighthouse (Christ) may seem far away, and even camouflaged.
Until next time, I most humbly ask that you keep all of my family and
myself in your prayers, and I assure you that never have I stopped praying
for all of your.