Ave Maria! Have you ever felt an impulse to do something a little unusual, then second-guessed yourself many times? Whether you end up doing the unusual thing or not, following the prompting or not, eventually you pass some kind of sign (a metaphorical billboard or a tiny, whispering scribble on scrap paper). You recognize that it is confirmation from God that, yes, that prompting was from the Holy Spirit. I have come to realize that, despite my analytical mind and thirst for answers in life, it is not my job to understand the Big Picture of why I am being prompted to do something. It is my job to listen, discern that it is God's voice (the really hard part) and then obey. Obedience is a much disliked word today. But if I am prompted, and it is not my job to understand why, then all I can do is to obey or not.
These thoughts come to mind now, during the coronavirus pandemic of 2020, because I now see, with 20/20 hindsight, that I have been prompted to do many things in preparation for this time. Some I did. Some I second-guessed and did not do. All, I now see, were from God, a warning, a way to find shelter under Our Lady's protective mantle.
The most difficult part for me has always been how to tell if the impulse is really from God. Could God really be caring about me enough to give me these impulses? First of all, God loves each one of us and has infinite care and concern for all his creation. We have a hard time accepting that love. He does care enough about me to prompt me. How do I know it's from God? Am I in a state of grace? Am I working to the best of my ability to strive for holiness? Am I striving for humility? Am I staying as close to His Church and the Sacraments as I am able? Then I can trust that the impulse is from Him.
But what about my own quirks and personality? God created me and can use all of that for His purpose if I get out of the way and really listen. The listening requires being quiet and the obeying requires---what Mother Angelica called the eighth gift of the Holy Spirit---guts! Some examples from my life:
When I was ten or eleven, my family was at an auction. An item being sold was a little nun doll, dressed in traditional black and white habit. I really wanted it, but was too afraid to speak up. We were not Catholic, but God was drawing me to His Church.
When I was a young adult working in Greenwich Village in New York City, Pope John Paul II's motorcade was going to pass close by on its way down Fifth Avenue. Taking a break, I stood with others waiting for the motorcade to pass. It was one of the first pope-mobiles and the Holy Father was standing in the rear, blessing the crowds as they continued downtown. I was not Catholic, not even a practicing Christian, at that time, but when he blessed the crowd I felt something. I had been in the crowd for curiosity's sake, but I was changed by the experience. I would not become a Catholic for several more decades, but am happy to say that I came into the Church during the last week of Pope Saint John Paul II's pontificate. Wish it had been sooner, but at least I made it. Now Pope Saint John Paul II, the centenary of whose birth we celebrate tomorrow, is a patron saint of Mary's Ward.
To finish out the promptings to become Catholic: when I was a new mother, I was at a wedding with my infant son. I went out into the vestibule during the reception when he was getting loud. The reception was in a Catholic Church hall. In the vestibule was a rack with tracts and brochures. "Wow," I thought, "These Catholics have an answer for everything." That thought, in the most sincere form, was again highlighted when I was in my car many years later and "Catholic Answers" came on the Christian station. I enjoyed listening to it because the answerers were so kind and they always had an answer that made sense. Soon after that, I learned from two former Catholics, how to pray the Rosary. That was the lasso that finally pulled me into the Church.
But what about the coronavirus pandemic has made me focus on God's promptings? It occurs to me that Our Lady promises signal graces to those who pray the Rosary daily. Those are the signs I was mentioning, that let us know our promptings are from the Holy Spirit. As I was thinking the other day of a way to build a chapel and community that could continue to function during this or any other pandemic, I realized in how many ways God has prompted me toward that solution over the years.
In 2003 my K-12 students and I discerned that God wanted school on a farm with gardens and animals and raising of orphans. We even made a list of supplies we would need.
Around the same time I saw the film "Ocean of Mercy" about St. Maximilian Kolbe, St. Faustina Kowalska, and Pope Saint John Paul II. They became my patrons.
In 2004 my family and I camped for a weekend on SonLight's newly purchased Mary's Wood in Springfield. My son painted the two hearts on a rock and we informally consecrated the land.
In 2005 we moved to Springfield into two tents and endured a tornado-like wind event which felled a huge pine tree just feet from our tents, but we suffered no harm. I was sure angels were at the four corners of our tents.
We began attending St. James Catholic Church in Kingman, Maine. Because I felt sure that there would be a time when we would not be able to attend church---God forbid---I collected and took home the expired missals at the end of every seasonal issue. The readings follow cycles and can be reused with careful attention.
I also, for a time, subscribed to Magnificat magazine. It, too, had all the Mass readings for the month. I kept every copy for several years. Why was I keeping them?
In the June 2006 issue of Magnificat, there was an article on monastic life featuring a painting by El Greco entitled "Allegory of the Camaldolese Order", painted at the turn of the 17th century. It depicts a utopian Camaldolese community of little huts constructed on a grid around a chapel. Each hut has a garden. Access to the community is safeguarded by a circle of thick pines and the entrance road, leading to a large guesthouse and fountain, begins with a gatehouse. By June 2006 I had been living in Springfield for a year and been the servant leader of Mary's Ward for a month. The layout of the utopian community struck me so strongly that, despite moving to Lowell and then Portland, I have carried that issue of Magnificat with me ever since. How could that work with large families and lots and lots of children and young adults? It jives with Dorothy Day's description of a Catholic Worker use of vacant lands which would resemble an ancient Irish monastery. And it jives with a new way that we will likely have to function during this and----God help us---future pandemics and crises. It incorporates social distancing and community life.
I have been working for several years on designing such huts that are self-sufficient (read as God dependent), ecologically resilient, and made of salvaged, gleaned, or free, renewable resources. I see the hut as a one-person unit, which would be multiplied by the number of family members in each family. Yet it is convenient to design a modular unit which can be extended as needed.
I have known that there would be people, and many of them, without food, shelter, education, religion, community, or safety. Now we're there. Not any kind of scenario I anticipated, for sure. But I have been prepared and preparing.
The lesson for me is to trust the reality of God. It sounds silly, but every second-guess is lack of trust. I can't say I haven't been warned, because I have. I have a house full of missals and coffee cups and religious statues and clothing, a house which I can't even get to because I require public transportation. I have designed a way to make mattresses from cloth, thread and waste fiber like buckwheat hulls or sawdust. I am not ignoring the way that the rest of the world is using the internet (I am so grateful for live-streamed Masses and this blog,) but how easily could that go away? I am designing and executing a template for the Divine Office that uses no copyrighted material and no expensive books: just a template and a Bible. I'm using it with my granddaughters for chapel time during Mary's School. It could be broadcast without copyright issues, and I have a wealth of Bibles I've salvaged over the years.
Before I entered the Church, I had a dream in which I was instructed to rest under Our Lady's mantle. I didn't really know what to do with that, so I made a poncho with the front of the Miraculous Medal design on the front f the poncho and the back on the back, a rather literal interpretation. Before quarantine began, while at Holy Hour, I saw an image of a Mary's Ward chapel with an open tabernacle, with no Eucharist inside. Maybe someday I will have permission to reserve the Blessed Sacrament for Mary's Ward in a chapel, but not now. On the walls of this chapel I saw images corresponding to the directions from which a straight line could be traced from tabernacles where Jesus resides to the empty tabernacle in the Mary's Ward chapel. At the place where each line intersected the chapel wall, there was a marker with a symbol of that Church's name. In this way, anyone could turn and face the occupied tabernacle of another Catholic Church and adore Jesus from a distance. As I watched, the lines connecting all these tabernacles with the MW tabernacle became beams of light. This image was comforting to me as I was trying to figure how to proceed with raising funds for the Our Lady and St. Nicholas Project. Now that I have been quarantined for two months, the image takes on greater meaning.
The message is this: we need to be Church even during the worst of times.
Final thought: if you need a boost, check out Our Lady of the Universe Shrine in the Bronx, NY. We went there in 2003 and met Joseph Vitolo, the seer. It is neither approved nor condemned as an apparition. Allegedly, Our Lady appeared to nine-year-old Joseph Vitolo daily from October 29 through November 14, 1945. Draw your own conclusions, but I can attest to the sweetness and peace of the outdoor shrine in the midst of the Bronx. The site is ourladyoftheuniverse.com. There is social media as well.
Our Lady of Good Remedy, pray for us. All holy angels, saints and martyrs, pray for us. Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, have mercy on us!
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