Miracle Moments

As I listened to the priest read the gospel of John at Sunday morning Mass, I felt it in my soul. I had made the right choice. “I am the shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. “ This beautiful scripture and the priest’s heartfelt homily affirmed my conviction that shepherding my children to morning Mass, standing together upon the rock of Christ is infinitely more important than building my rock garden. I hadn't planned on going to morning Mass because I had already attended Saturday evening Mass so that my youngest son Zachary and I could begin laying the foundation for our rock garden. I thought the kids and I could go to Mass in the evening. We were about to bolt out of the door when Jacob came downstairs determined to attend 11 a.m. Mass. My conscience spoke to me. "Family Mass or the rock garden?!" It was a no brainer. “Let’s all go to Mass together,” I urged as I ran upstairs to get dressed. “The rock garden can wait.” We arr

In 2007 the Easter season turned surprisingly personal as I experienced firsthand the process of dying to self through a very painful crucifixion. The turning point came when members of my spiritual family betrayed me. Their rejection and subsequent persecution seared my soul with excruciating intensity. Their bold lies and lack of compassion for my young children left me questioning everything I believed about my Catholic family. I stopped going to church. For two weeks I couldn’t bear the thought of walking into a Catholic church, so on Easter Sunday my sons and I huddled together next to a lake reading scripture from the Bible and asking the Lord for his direction. My heart was bleeding. Still-I loved the Lord and he loved me...and somehow that love gave me the strength to throw myself at his mercy inside the Blessed Sacrament Chapel at St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church. “What do you want me to do now?” I cried out. My sons and I had been through the ringer, test