Miracle Moments

I felt a great deal of Love from my sons this week. Caring compassion and outright concern. The kind of warmly inspiring qualities a mom wants to see in the men in her life. They were so sweet...taking me to dinner, asking me how I felt and embracing me tightly with lots of hugs and I Love yous. My children have been tested by fire, scourged at the pillar, agonized in the garden of life...They have pulled through those trials with amazing determination and faith even in the face of fiercely overwhelming challenges...And they are turning out to be gentle, loving young men...The kind of guys every gal would like to know. Zachary kept looking at me, "This too shall pass...I don't really know what that means, but isn't that what you always say?" "Yes," I laughed...giving him a big hug. And so it does...Time passes and with each passing moment, miracles are manifested in a myriad of surprising ways...and especially through my children. I've lost a lot o

My son Mac turned 22 on the 21st, and for the first time in years he was safe, sober and sitting inside-rehab. It wasn't his idea of a Happy Birthday...However, that's what growing up is all about. Change and change and more change. Growing pains and painful growth. Giving up our reckless past and giving in to healthier choices. I know Mac may not feel good about himself right now, but I believe his Spring will come. It will take time and tough decisions, tears and tiny baby steps...But every day is a new day with the promise of new life and the Love of Christ who is watching over him every step of the way. On the day he was born, Mac kept me in labor all day...Entering the world just before sundown...Screaming at the top of his lungs...Announcing to the world that he had finally arrived-on his terms. I remember he was so tiny, almost fragile and much smaller than his older brother. Who would have guessed that one day he would be towering over the rest of us...Tall, dark

Miracles happen all the time...However, if you're praying for one, purification may need to come first. Years ago as I prayed for a physical healing from the alcoholism that had crept into my life, I begged God for a healing. I spent hours in prayer, often in front of the Blessed Sacrament. I opened my heart, surrendered my will and pleaded for help. One day as I immersed myself in his presence I clearly heard that I would not be healed "faster than will benefit your soul." It brought me little comfort because I wanted immediate release from the bondage of pure pain that held me prisoner to this awful disease. I did not understand at that moment-that God had planned a glorious new life for me free from the pitfalls that had pulled me into the pit of hell. I did not know that he wanted to give me a healthy, wholesome way of thinking that would forever change the course of my life. I was so immersed in the revolving drama of my life that I could not see the problems th

St Monica and St Augustine "It is impossible that the son of so many tears should perish." With those words the bishop of Milan Italy, St. Ambrose, predicted that St. Monica's faith and fortitude would fuel a final showdown and lead to the baptism of her son, St. Augustine...And he was right on target. St. Monica traveled far and wide, following her son to distant lands, praying incessantly on bended knee, storming the heavens in the unshakable hope that God would save her son's soul. In 386 A.D. at 35 years of age, the once morally corrupt alcoholic St. Augustine, saw the error in his ways and chose the high road that led him out of the darkness and into the light of heavenly Love. It's a beautiful story and I keep it close to my heart as I pray for the healing of my own son Mackie. He fled Comunita Cenacolo two weeks ago and is now in a rehab facility here in New Orleans where he says he's committed to kicking the drug habit and healing his broken heart. His