spirituality

May 15, 2025

ST. ROSE OF LIMA: Was She Too Extreme?

To watch the YouTube Video, click arrow on thumbnail below:

On a warm, late April day in 1586, a servant woman in Lima, Peru experienced a miraculous vision while gazing upon the newest member of the noble Flores family. Before her very eyes the infant girl’s face seemed to transform into a beautiful rose in full bloom. The astonished servant rushed to share her vision with the child’s mother, who agreed it was a Divine sign. From that day forward, the baby, who had been baptized Isabel Flores de Oliva on April 20, was called “Rose.”

Rose’s father was Gaspar Flores, a Spanish Imperial Cavalry member, whose family had originated in Spain and later emigrated to Puerto Rico. Her mother, 26-year-old María de Oliva y Herrera, was a criolla, which meant she was a female of European, typically Spanish, ancestry who was born in Spanish America. She also had Inca blood. Rose was their seventh child.

The era of Rose’s birth was marked by stark contrasts. Fifty years after Francisco Pizarro’s conquest of Peru for Spain, Peru’s vast mineral wealth enriched Spain but left the indigenous people impoverished and oppressed. This period also saw the Catholic Church’s reform following the Council of Trent. The religious climate in Peru was complex, with Christianity thinly overlaying native beliefs and superstitions. The forced conversion of indigenous Peruvians to Christianity without proper instruction led to widespread reversion to pagan beliefs within fifty years of Spanish arrival in Peru. The Spaniards’ harsh response only intensified the Peruvian resistance, creating a seemingly hopeless situation for both parties. As little Rose grew, she would become keenly aware of her historical context, and would pray fervently for her homeland.

Rose was a child of extraordinary beauty, her pink cheeks indeed reminiscent of a blooming rose. Her heart was devoted to God from a tender age. At just three years old, Rose demonstrated remarkable fortitude when she endured a severe finger injury in silence, not informing her parents. When discovered, the injury required the removal of her fingernail, a procedure she bore without a whimper or tear.

Rose loved flowers and often used them in her spiritual practices. When she was five years old, she constructed a little chapel in the family garden, where she spent countless hours in prayer. At the time of her first Confession, it is said that, strangely enough, she got permission from her confessor to make a vow of virginity. Since, due to her young age, this would not have been any kind of binding vow, and it was unlikely that she even truly understood its meaning yet, the priest’s permission probably was just a way of pacifying her wishes and encouraging her piety.

When she was confirmed in 1597, she officially chose “Rose” as her Confirmation name. Her mother, Maria, proud of Rose’s beauty, adorned her with wreath crowns of the garden’s finest roses. Initially resisting elegant attire, Rose ingeniously concealed thorns beneath the rose crown, transforming it into her personal “crown of thorns.” When she made her First Communion, Jesus promised her that if she fasted for His sake, He would sustain her. From that time on, for the rest of her life she gave up eating meat.

Rose had a deep devotion to the Infant Jesus and His Blessed Mother and spent countless hours praying before the Blessed Sacrament. She received Communion three times a week. Although she would have liked to receive daily, in those days young girls were forbidden to go out unless accompanied by an adult woman, and Maria was not always available, perhaps deliberately. Later in her life, Rose was able to receive Communion daily, which was an extremely rare practice at that time.

After reading a book about St. Catherine of Siena, the impressionable young girl adopted the saint as her personal role model. Emulating St. Catherine, Rose fasted three times a week, donned coarse clothing, and cut her beautiful hair short. She concealed her cropped locks with a veil to avoid her parents’ disapproval. When Maria eventually discovered it, she was very angry.

In Rose’s teenage years, her family faced financial hardship when her father’s gold-mining venture failed, leaving them impoverished, with seven children still living at home. Rose, ever resourceful, stepped up to support her family by selling flowers from her own garden and creating exquisite lace and embroidery. Her needlework was of the highest quality, with remarkable beauty and delicacy. Despite long hours of labor, Rose dedicated her evenings to prayer and acts of penance.

Maria had grand aspirations for her beautiful daughter, hoping to secure a marriage into one of Peru’s wealthy and prominent families. She orchestrated opportunities for potential mothers-in-law to admire Rose, but these efforts were in vain, because, contrary to her mother’s wishes, Rose felt a Divine calling to a life of virginity.

When Rose realized she was attracting the notice of suitors, she attempted to deflect their attention by rubbing crushed hot peppers on her beautiful face and lime juice on her hands to roughen them.

SO WHAT DID ROSE REALLY LOOK LIKE?

We sometimes hear about saints, like Rose of Lima, who were said to be beautiful. But in most cases, we don’t have any idea what they really looked like. However, in a groundbreaking scientific endeavor, the face of Saint Rose of Lima has been reconstructed using advanced technology. A team of scientists from the University of Saint Martin de Porres in Peru collaborated with the Brazilian Anthropological and Dental Legal Forensics Team to analyze and reconstruct the saint’s facial features. Here I am showing two views of her reconstructed face.

The project involved not only Saint Rose but also two other saints. At the clinic, researchers employed CT  scans to create detailed images of the skulls. This non-invasive technique, commonly used in medical diagnostics, allowed for precise 3D digital modeling of the saints’ cranial structures.

Saint Rose of Lima’s reconstructed face was the first to be unveiled. According to researchers, the reconstruction revealed “a pretty woman with soft features and a well-distributed face.” Notably, her eyes appear larger than in classical portrayals.

At age 17, with the help of her brother, Rose constructed a small hut in the family garden. This humble abode became her sanctuary where, with the permission of her confessor, she retreated to devote herself fully to work, prayer, and penance. She offered her life in reparation for the sin and corruption in her society.

Rose worked hard to support her household and was obedient to her parents, except in their insistence that she marry. This sticking point caused a decade-long conflict with her parents, during which Rose exercised great patience and prayed for guidance. She eventually discerned that it was not God’s will for her to enter a convent, and she received a sign that she, like her idol St. Catherine of Siena, was to become a Dominican Tertiary and continue to live at home.

At age 20, she finally received her parents’ permission to join the Third Order of St. Dominic, donning the habit and taking a vow of perpetual virginity. Instead of entering a convent, she stayed in the hut in her parents’ garden, intensifying her prayer and penances.

Despite her life as a partial recluse, Rose remained acutely aware of the oppression in Peruvian society. She became renowned in Lima for her virtue and acts of charity, caring for the sick and hungry in her community, often bringing them to her hut to care for them. Her garden soon became the spiritual nucleus of Lima. She learned how to make herbal medicines, which she distributed to the poor, and occasionally visited hospitals to nurse the sick.

Rose was blessed with miraculous abilities. Seeking Divine intervention from the Child Jesus to cure the sick, her prayers often were answered with remarkable healings. At times, she also worked wonders to provide sustenance for her family. One such example was when her father, Gaspar, had overextended himself financially outfitting two of his sons who had been granted the prestigious honor of joining a royal galleon to battle the British. In addition, the family had also recently celebrated the wedding of another daughter, further straining their already precarious finances. The normal income from Rose’s needlework was not coming in, because she was working on a trousseau for her sister. The situation reached a critical point when Gaspar received an ultimatum from his creditors: produce the money by ten o’clock the following morning or face dire consequences, including the possibility of imprisonment. Gaspar, his voice heavy with resignation uttered the despairing words, “All is lost! It is the end!”

Determined to help, Rose accompanied her equally dejected brother to church, continually encouraging him to keep faith. In church, Rose prayed harder than she ever had before. As they exited the church, a stranger approached Rose, pressing a packet of money into her hands, saying, “I have this package of money for the señorita. Give this to your father for his present needs.” To the family’s astonishment and relief, the sum was exactly the same as Gaspar’s debt.

Rose’s boundless charity and selfless devotion to the needy earned her the affectionate titles “Mother of the Poor” and “The Rose of Lima.” Her commitment to the sick was particularly noteworthy. She personally dressed the wounds of those suffering from cancers, ulcers, and repulsive sores. Her compassion knew no boundaries. Although many of these women were beyond medical help, Rose provided comfort and solace in their final days. She dedicated herself to caring for the most neglected and abandoned women in Lima, regardless of their race or social status. She would seek out these women, bring them home with her, and tend to their needs with tireless dedication. She devoted considerable time to caring for the indigenous women of Peru, who were often the most forsaken in society. Her compassion and love for God deeply impressed those who met her, and her works of mercy laid the foundation for social work in Peru.

Maria found her daughter’s work distasteful, but Rose, guided by Divine inspiration, found ways to overcome her mother’s objections. However, the intensity of her charitable work took a toll on Rose’s health and appearance. Her once rosy cheeks and fair complexion faded, leaving her looking pale and gaunt. One day, while walking to church with her mother, Rose overheard someone commenting that her altered appearance was a sign of sanctity. Troubled by possible temptation towards spiritual pride, Rose fervently prayed to God to restore her healthy appearance. She wished to keep her work and fasting hidden from others, and God granted her request.

One day, a miraculous event unfolded that would forever be associated with Saint Rose. Dutch pirates, emboldened by their victory over the Peruvian fleet, set their sights on the city with sinister intent. Driven by the fervor of the Reformation, these marauders sought not only to loot Lima but also to desecrate its sacred churches.

As fear gripped the city, women, children, and members of the religious sought sanctuary within the city’s houses of worship. In the church of Santo Domingo, young Rose took charge, rallying the terrified refugees to prayer. As the pirates breached the church’s threshold, they were met with an awe-inspiring sight. Before them stood a young girl holding aloft a monstrance containing the Blessed Sacrament, her form radiating a brilliant, otherworldly light. Without a word, the terrified pirates turned on their heels and fled back to their ships. As quickly as they had arrived, the pirate fleet set sail, leaving Lima untouched and its people in awe of the miracle they had witnessed. This reported miracle is similar to one that took place in Assisi in 1240, when Saracen soldiers threatened the convent of San Damiano, only to turn and flee when St. Clare held up the Blessed Sacrament. 

Forever afterwards, whenever earthquakes struck close by Lima, people believed that Rose’s prayers were the reason Lima was spared.

Whenever Rose spoke about Jesus, her face would radiate with an intense glow, reflecting the profound love she held for Him. Beyond her spiritual fervor, Rose had a special affinity with nature, finding solace and inspiration in its beauty. She was gifted with a melodious voice and composed a beautiful hymn in praise of God, which became her solace during times of suffering. As she struggled through painful illness during the final years of her life, she would sing it many times, pouring out her heart to God in song. It is said that at sunset each day, as she sang from within her room, a small bird would appear at her window. Drawn by the sweetness of Rose’s voice, and perhaps sensing something Divine emanating from it, the bird would join its own sweet song to hers.

Two fellow future saints played crucial roles in Rose’s spiritual journey. St. Turibius de Mongrovejo, the Archbishop of Lima, who confirmed her in 1597, was known for his religious and social reforms, particularly in defending the Indigenous people. Rose prayed fervently for God to sustain him in his trials. The second saint was St. Martin de Porres, a fellow Dominican. He shared Rose’s deep devotion to the Holy Eucharist and dedication to caring for the sick and poor and became her great friend and confidante.

Rose’s devotion to her faith was marked by extreme acts of penance and self-mortification, practices that were not uncommon among devout Catholics of her time, but which she pursued with exceptional intensity. Because she could not be a missionary as she longed to be, she turned to penance instead.  “As I cannot do any good,” she said, “is it not just that I should suffer whatever I am capable of suffering?”

She subjected herself to severe physical discomfort, wearing a hairshirt to irritate her skin, an iron chain tightly wound around her waist, and a silver crown of thorns concealed beneath roses. Her dietary habits were remarkably austere for her era; when she wasn’t fasting, she consumed only the bare minimum of food and water necessary to sustain life. When she could no longer stand, she rested on a bed of broken tiles she had made. She later confessed, “The thought of lying down on it made me tremble with dread.” Despite her feelings, she maintained this practice for an astonishing fourteen years. I’ll be addressing Rose’s extreme penances a little later in this episode.

Physically, Rose suffered simultaneously from asthma and arthritis. But her spiritual trials were equally challenging. She endured disturbing dreams and intense temptations against purity and faith, experiences that tortured her mind and left her soul desolate. At times, she felt abandoned by God, believing herself to be revolting in His sight. These periods of anguish were so severe that they visibly altered her appearance, shocking those who observed her tortured expression. Her only earthly support came from her close friend, Brother Martin de Porres, who reassured her that her visions and periods of spiritual dryness were signs of God’s highest favor.

Paradoxically, these trials only drove Rose to intensify her mortifications. Yet, she also experienced profound spiritual consolations. Christ often appeared to her, offering strength and encouragement. She also was comforted by visions of the Virgin Mary and St. Catherine of Siena. One day, Rose found herself deeply troubled, her mind consumed with worries about her eternal salvation. Suddenly, Christ Himself appeared before her, His presence radiating Divine love and compassion. With gentle reassurance, He told her: “My daughter, I condemn only those who will not be saved.” He then bestowed upon Rose three extraordinary promises: First, He assured her of her place in heaven, dispelling her fears of eternal separation. Second, He promised that she would never fall from His grace through mortal sin. Finally, He pledged that Divine assistance would always be available to her in times of need. He also revealed to her the exact day and hour when she would die. This knowledge, far from being a burden, became a source of peace for Rose. It allowed her to approach her remaining days with a sense of purpose and anticipation, knowing that each moment brought her closer to eternal union with her Beloved. During this period of intense spiritual experience, Rose received the grace of mystical marriage with Christ. To commemorate this union, she had a ring engraved with Christ’s words to her: “Rose of My Heart, be My spouse.”

Rose’s extreme practices did not go unnoticed. Concerned individuals suggested that ecclesiastical authorities should investigate her conduct. Summoned before the Archbishop of Lima and a panel of theologians, Rose responded to their questions with brevity and humility. The examiners were impressed by her selflessness and her profound understanding of religious matters, and she was allowed to continue her way of life undisturbed.

Reflecting on the Divine influence that guided her, Rose wrote, “That same force strongly urged me to proclaim the beauty of Divine Grace.”

As Rose approached her twenty-eighth year, she became very sick, causing those around her to fear for her life. However, Rose, with the profound spiritual insight granted to her, knew that her time had not yet come. During this period of illness, her mother seized the opportunity to persuade Rose to part with her hideously uncomfortable bed of broken tiles. Though Rose agreed to have her old bed removed, she remained steadfast in her commitment to self-mortification. Refusing the comfort of a mattress, she instead compromised by accepting plain boards as her new resting place for the duration of her illness.

After recovering from this bout of illness, Rose’s living situation changed. She left the small hut in her family’s garden and, accepting the hospitality of Don Gonzalo de Massa, a Spanish government official, and his wife, she moved into a room in their home. Despite her new living arrangements, Rose’s compassionate spirit remained undiminished. She continued to transform her room into a sanctuary of mercy, welcoming society’s most vulnerable – homeless children, the sick, and the elderly – to provide them with care and comfort.

Rose’s position as a guest in the home of a Spanish official did not temper her outspoken nature. She fearlessly raised her voice against the harsh practices of the Spanish overlords, pointing out their greed as being the root cause of the poor’s suffering. Her courage in speaking truth exemplified her commitment to justice.

On July 31, 1617, Rose fell gravely ill, marking the beginning of her final days on earth. As her condition worsened, she endured intense suffering, including a raging thirst when the doctor forbade her to drink water. Despite her physical agony, Rose’s spiritual radiance seemed only to intensify. Those near her often heard her voice murmuring a poignant prayer: “Lord, increase my sufferings, and with them increase your love in my heart.”

After receiving the holy sacraments, she humbly addressed those gathered around her, seeking forgiveness for any faults and urging them to love God above all else. As death approached, Rose’s joy grew as she anticipated being united with her Divine Bridegroom. Shortly before her passing, she experienced a state of profound religious ecstasy. Upon emerging from this state, she confided to her confessor, “Oh! How much I could tell you of the sweetness of God, and of the blissful heavenly dwelling of the Almighty!” These words offered a tantalizing glimpse of the celestial visions she had seen.

In her final act of earthly penance, Rose asked her brother to remove the pillow from beneath her head, so she could die on bare boards, just as Christ had died on the cross. With the pillow removed, Rose bid farewell to her loved ones and asked God to comfort her mother. In her final moments, she uttered the words: “Jesus, Jesus, be with me!”  Rose passed away just after midnight on August 24, 1617, the feast day of St. Bartholomew the Apostle.

Remarkably, Rose’s mother did not succumb to grief upon her daughter’s passing. Instead, she was overcome with an inexplicable joy, so profound that she hurried to another room to conceal her emotions. This joy spread throughout the household and the town, with a collective decision made to forgo mourning in favor of celebration. The profound impact of Rose’s life and death, and the esteem in which she was held, was evident in the extraordinary nature of her funeral procession. The Canons of the Church led the way, carrying her body for part of the journey. They were followed by the Senate, evidence of how Rose’s influence had reached even the highest echelons [ESH-ah-lons] of civil authority. Finally, the Superiors of various religious orders took their turn, each group eager to pay homage to a woman whose holiness had touched and inspired so many. This remarkable funeral procession, with its diverse participants, was a fitting tribute to a life that had bridged the gap between the earthly and the Divine, between the humble and the exalted.

The impact of Rose’s life and death was immediate and profound. Abundant miracles began to occur following her death. There were reports that she had cured a leper, and that the city of Lima smelled like roses; some claimed they witnessed roses falling from the sky. The people of Lima clamored for her immediate canonization; however, due to a recent Papal ruling requiring a 50-year waiting period between death and canonization, Rose’s official recognition as a saint was delayed. She was beatified by Pope Clement IX in 1667 and canonized by Pope Clement X in 1671, becoming the first person born in the Americas to receive this honor.

One of the most popular saints in the history of the Church, Rose of Lima is the patron saint of Latin America and the Philippines, of embroiderers, gardeners, florists, people who are ridiculed for their faith, and those who suffer with family problems. Her feast day has undergone several changes in the liturgical calendar. When first inserted into the General Roman Calendar in 1729, it was celebrated on August 30. This date was chosen because August 24, the anniversary of her death, was already occupied by the feast of Saint Bartholomew. In 1969, Pope Paul VI revised the liturgical calendar, making August 23 available for Saint Rose’s feast day. This change was implemented worldwide, including in Spain. However, Peru and some other Latin American countries continue to celebrate her feast on August 30, which remains a public holiday in her honor.

In art, St. Rose is often portrayed wearing a crown of roses and holding a cross, or a heart with a cross. Her symbols also include roses and lilies, and she is often portrayed with a brown habit, as a reference to her religious vocation as a Third Order Dominican.

WAS ST. ROSE TOO EXTREME?

Since I always strive for honesty with my readers, I must confess that I sometimes struggle to relate to saints like Rose of Lima who engaged in extreme, even bizarre, practices of penance and mortification. While I deeply admire these saints, their behavior can seem peculiar, even potentially unstable, when viewed with the perspective of modern times. Moreover, it’s challenging to see them as relatable role models, because their practices appear far beyond what most ordinary 21st-century Christians could or would aspire to.

In researching St. Rose of Lima for this episode, I was genuinely shocked by some of the facts I uncovered. In a book called Voices of the Saints, author Bert Ghezzi writes of St. Rose: “She fasted often. Sometimes she made herself vomit after meals, which today would probably be regarded as bulimia. She prayed long hours and frequently beat herself with a little whip.” Other sources mention that a spike in the silver crown she wore became so deeply embedded in her skull that its removal was extremely difficult. Then there’s the matter of her “bed” – used for only two hours of sleep a night – filled with broken tiles, pottery shards, and thorns. She also suffered from scrupulosity, today considered a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder, which involves excessive guilt and anxiety about sin and moral or religious issues. 

This all seemed so extreme that I nearly decided against producing this episode. However, in my quest to better understand the saints, I delved into the subject of asceticism, which is the practice of self-discipline and self-denial, and the issue of extreme mortifications. I’d like to share my findings and conclusions with you.

Lest we think that asceticism is something peculiar to Catholic Saints, it’s important for us to realize that it has its roots in ancient human attempts to achieve various goals and ideals. Originally, it was closely tied to athletic training, where Greek athletes would abstain from gratification and endure physical challenges to prepare for competitions like the Olympic Games. Warriors also adopted similar practices to excel in combat, with ancient Israelites even abstaining from carnal relations before battle.

Over time, the concept of asceticism expanded beyond physical training to encompass mental, moral, and spiritual development. Across many religions and times, people have used asceticism to grow spiritually and connect with the Divine. In older tribal religions, asceticism was important too. Coming-of-age rituals play a significant role in many cultures, particularly among Native American tribes. These ceremonies mark the transition from childhood to adulthood and often involve challenging physical and spiritual experiences, such as the Vision Quest. This consists of isolation in nature for 2-4 days, often at sacred sites; fasting and prayer to seek spiritual guidance; hoping for a vision or dream that provides life direction; and guidance from elders in interpreting the experience. This closely resembles the visions and revelations of many of the saints who practiced extreme fasting, prayer, and isolation.

In major religions like Hinduism, Buddhism, and Christianity, people turned to asceticism because they realized life on Earth is fleeting, so they wanted to focus on the afterlife. They pushed back against worldly things, believing a simple life was more spiritual. In Christianity, asceticism took many forms. In the Gospels, Jesus did not directly talk about asceticism, but His followers were inspired by His simple life. St. Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, compared Christian life to an athlete in training. Early Christians often fasted, stayed up all night praying, and avoided physical gratification. Some Christians took these practices to extreme levels. The Desert Fathers (early Christian monks) taught that self-denial or “mortification” is a tool, not the main goal. They advised being careful with these practices and said that harsh forms should be done only with guidance from an experienced spiritual teacher. They believed it is wrong to practice self-denial for physical gratification or because of scrupulosity.

As I examined the life stories of saints who engaged in extreme penances, I noticed a pattern. Many, though certainly not all, were initially young, healthy, and born into households of wealth and luxury. Given that adversity and some degree of suffering are necessary for spiritual growth – a belief shared by many religions – it appears that these individuals, lacking natural hardship, felt compelled to reject their comfortable lifestyles and create ways in which to suffer. But the idea of manufactured suffering can seem perplexing and unnecessary for those of us born into less fortunate circumstances, who have experienced struggle and adversity in daily life, have serious disabilities, or who are experiencing the aches, pains, and health problems that come with simply growing older.

Many saints besides Rose of Lima engaged in severe forms of self-mortification as a means of spiritual growth and penance, including Gemma Galgani, Catherine of Siena, Ignatius of Loyola, Dominic, Francis of Assisi, and Thomas More, to name just a few. Today, such extreme practices might be viewed as symptoms of mental health issues like obsessive-compulsive tendencies, eating disorders, and self-harm behaviors. But it’s important to view them in the context of their own times, realizing that these practices often were accepted and even encouraged in certain historical and cultural settings.

Saints typically undertook these penances out of deep devotion and a desire for spiritual growth, not due to mental illness or reasons of vanity or physical gratification. For instance, anorexia and bulimia normally arise from a distorted body image and excessive fear of weight gain, whereas spiritual fasting is practiced in many religions as a way to deepen one’s connection with God, cultivate humility, resist temptation, and seek God’s guidance. St. Rose of Lima’s actions to spoil her beauty were primarily motivated by her determination to avoid marriage and fulfill her vow of virginity, rather than for self-harm purposes. Since young women of her time had very little say in choosing their own path in life, they sometimes had to resort to desperate measures.

The saints believed that anything that might jeopardize their relationship with God had to be eradicated. Prayer, fasting, self-denial and mortifications were their way of achieving this goal. Most of the saints practiced mortification under the guidance of spiritual directors, showing a level of restraint and obedience. Many saints were discouraged from severe mortifications by their spiritual directors, St. Francis of Assisi being one notable example of this. St. Rose’s obedience to spiritual authority, too, was absolute. When her confessor forbade a particular penance, she would immediately cease the practice until given permission to resume or substitute another form of mortification. (We can only imagine the practices she was forbidden to do)! By the time of her death, she had nine spiritual directors, and all of them testified that her penances had been Divinely inspired, because of her humility and obedience.

While we can appreciate the devotion of these saints, in modern times it’s important to approach such practices with caution and discernment. Canonization does not imply that every action of a saint should be imitated; it simply affirms that the person is in heaven. Stories of extreme mortification often capture our attention and stick in our memory, which may lead to their overemphasis in religious instruction.

The Church has shifted focus towards emphasizing the fundamental goodness of the body and creation, and discourages extreme forms of bodily mortification that could be harmful or counterproductive. Mortification should be purpose-driven, a means to spiritual growth, not an end in itself. It should be part of a balanced spirituality in which the focus is on overall virtue and holiness, not just physical austerity.

Many Catholics practice “everyday internal mortification” by offering up daily discomforts or challenges as a form of spiritual discipline. I always like to start my day with a prayer called “The Morning Offering,” which offers to Jesus all the prayers, works, joys and sufferings of the day. Although this seems pretty lame in comparison to St. Rose’s heroic penances, on days when my joints hurt or I’m facing a particularly stressful situation, I like to think that my offering it up to God will at least make it a little more meaningful.

Modern Catholic devotional practices that aim to foster a deeper spiritual connection and devotion to God without resorting to extreme physical acts include: Novenas dedicated to specific saints or intentions; Eucharistic adoration; praying the Rosary; making the Stations of the Cross; wearing scapulars or religious medals; and pilgrimages to holy sites or shrines; fasting and abstinence during Lent and other prescribed times; voluntary acts of self-denial, such as giving up certain comforts or gratifications; offering a sickness or discomfort for our own sins and those of others; and practicing patience and charity in difficult situations. This last one is especially challenging for me, so much so that I have created an episode about it called “How to Become More Patient.” If patience is difficult for you as well, you might be interested in checking it out. I have included the link here: HOW TO BECOME MORE PATIENT: 7 TIPS | Everyday Life Spirituality

In this day and age, when most of us live in relative comfort, we are subject to temptations to overindulge in many things: Food, drink, entertainment, physical relationships, attachment to electronic devices, etc. We are bombarded every day by ads urging us to acquire more and more “stuff,” most of it trivial, useless, and excessive. Although we might shudder in horror at the voluntary disciplines undertaken by St. Rose of Lima, maybe it can at least inspire us to practice a little self-restraint and self-denial as we are able, for the benefit of our own souls.

Rather than merely dismissing her as too extreme, we can remember St. Rose of Lima’s admirable spiritual virtues and the way she lived out her life in true imitation of Jesus Christ, rather than just her severe penances. Although her earthly journey was brief, the impact of her immense faith, compassion, charity, and courage in the face of opposition, ridicule and severe temptations, has endured over the centuries. Let’s ask her today to make us stronger Christians, too.

March 14, 2025

VENERABLE PIERRE TOUSSAINT: From Haitian Slave to Hairstylist to Holiness

To watch the YouTube video, click on arrow in thumbnail below:

On a summer’s day, in the lush, tropical country of Saint-Domingue, now known as Haiti, a slave woman named Ursule cradled her newborn son in her arms. She gazed out the window, her eyes taking in the green, fertile fields of the sprawling Bérard family sugar-cane plantation located on the banks of the Artibonite River, near the port town of Saint-Marc. This land was her home, where she lived and worked as a personal maid to Madame Berard. Even though she knew that her son, too, would be a slave, in her heart she dared to hope for greater things in his future. Little did she know that this baby boy was destined to play an important role, not only in the history of her people, but of the Catholic Church as well.

The infant had been given the name Pierre, after the owner’s father, Pierre Berard. The date of Pierre’s birth is recorded in many sources as June 27, 1766; however, based on the more recent research of journalist and biographer Arthur Jones, Pierre’s year of birth is now believed to have been 1781. His father’s name is unknown. The roots of Pierre’s family tree stretched back to Africa, where his great-grandmother Tonette had been born and raised before being taken across the Atlantic as a slave to toil on the sugar-rich soils of Saint-Domingue. Pierre’s grandmother, Zenobe Julien, had earned her freedom through years of loyal service to the Bérard family. Five years after Pierre’s birth, his sister Rosalie was born, who would become his steadfast companion throughout the years ahead.

As Pierre grew, the Bérard family, recognizing something special in the young boy, had him educated by their children’s tutors. In the grand house, far removed from the backbreaking labor of the fields, Pierre’s mind blossomed. Intelligent and eager, he learned to read, write, and think critically — skills that would one day prove instrumental in shaping not just his own destiny, but in helping and influencing many others. Jacques Berard allowed Pierre free access to his library, where the curious boy spent many hours avidly reading books on many diverse topics, further broadening his education. He was a playmate to the Berard children, and raised with knowledge of all the social niceties. Tall and mild-mannered, he was trained to courteously greet and serve the family’s guests, and had an excellent command of the French language, both written and spoken. He was also musically inclined and a talented fiddler. Pierre was baptized and raised a Catholic, and found solace in the rituals and teachings of the Church. Yet, as he matured, he couldn’t help but wonder at the contradictions between the Christian message of universal love and equality and the harsh realities of plantation life.

When the senior Bérards returned to France, their son Jean Bérard took over the plantation. Soon, tensions began to escalate, which eventually would lead to enslaved and free people of color uprising in the Haitian Revolution. In 1797, as conditions became more dangerous, Jean & Marie Berard fled for New York City, taking with them 16-year-old Pierre, his younger sister, Rosalie, his aunt, and two other house slaves. They arrived in the young country of the United States shortly after George Washington, its first President, had completed his two terms in office. They were among many French aristocrats, from St. Domingue and from Europe–where the French Revolution had ended in 1794–who were seeking refuge in America.

Once settled in a stylish rented house in lower Manhattan, Jean Bérard signed Pierre up as apprentice to a Mr. Merchant (first name unknown). He was a hairdresser, who taught Pierre the art of hair styling, a skill in which he quickly excelled. This was a wise move on Berard’s part, since the city was full of wealthy society women whose lifestyle required elaborate hairstyles for their frequent social engagements. Male hairdressers, while popular in France, were a fairly new phenomenon in America, where wealthy women generally had their hair done by their lady’s maid.

Berard allowed Pierre to keep most of what he earned as a hairdresser. Pierre quickly mastered all the latest hairstyles of the French, including powdered wigs and false hair additions, along with the chignons and face-framing curls that were trendy among the Americans. He became what one biographer described as “the Vidal Sassoon of his day.” His client list read like a “Who’s Who” of 18th-century New York society: Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, wife of Alexander Hamilton, and their daughter, Eliza Holly Hamilton, were among his important clients, along with Catherine Church Cruger, known as “Kitty,” whose father would give the pistols to Hamilton for his duel with Aaron Burr. Another client, a  prominent socialite named Mary Anna Sawyer Schuyler, also related to the Hamiltons, became Pierre’s close friend, referring to him as “my Saint Pierre.” Most of his women clients were Protestant, but they deeply admired Pierre’s devotion to his faith, along with his pious, kind and gentle nature. Hannah Farnham Sawyer Lee, Pierre’s first biographer and the sister of Mary Anna Schuyler, recounts, “He often quoted in his native language from the Sermon on the Mount, and the Beatitudes seemed to have found their way into his heart.”

Pierre also met some French emigrants in NY who knew the senior Berards in France, with whom he corresponded for decades, generously assisting his godmother, Aurora Berard, who had fallen on hard financial times in Paris. He also regularly corresponded with friends in Haiti. A prolific writer, his letters filled 15 bound volumes and served as part of the documentation submitted to the Vatican for his canonization process.

After a while, Jean Berard returned to Saint-Domingue to check on his property there. While in Haiti, he learned that his plantation was lost. He planned to return to New York; however, he developed pleurisy, an inflammation of the lungs, and died while still in Haiti. Soon after his death, his widow, Marie, learned that she was completely destitute. By then, Pierre was earning good money as a hairdresser. He voluntarily continued to care for the widow Marie, allowing her to lead a life of dignity, and assumed financial responsibility for the household. Marie eventually remarried to Gabriel Nicolas, who was also from Saint-Domingue. Pierre and Rosalie continued to live in the Nicolas household.

Eventually, Marie’s health began to fail. Pierre knew that having company lifted her spirits, so he encouraged her to entertain, and would buy tropical fruit and ice cream for the guests. Before they arrived, he would style Marie’s hair, adorning it with a flower as a finishing touch. In 1807, on her deathbed, Marie gave Pierre his freedom. In 1811, he bought the freedom of his sister, Rosalie, and also of his fiancé, Marie-Rose Juliette Gaston, whom he had known in Saint-Domingue.

Pierre’s relationship with the abolitionist movement was complicated. From the growing number of Haitian refugees in New York, he heard reports of murder and devastation from the island of his birth. Despite his intimate knowledge of slavery’s evils and his awareness of New York’s abolitionist movement, he refrained from active participation and hesitated to engage in America’s abolition debate, mindful of the immense toll paid to end slavery on his native island. He avoided anything that could incite violence, explaining, “They have not seen the blood flow as I have.”  This stance led some Black Catholics in the 1990s to oppose his candidacy for sainthood, viewing him as too accepting of enslavement. However, the truth is that Pierre’s inner freedom transcended his legal status as a slave. He consciously chose to embrace God’s grace daily, becoming a powerful symbol of Divine generosity. Pierre himself articulated it this way: “I have never felt I am a slave to any man or woman, but I am a servant of almighty God who made us all. When one of His children is in need I am glad to be His slave.”

This perspective echoes that of Saint Josephine Bakhita, another former slave who expressed similar sentiments about her time of enslavement and her relationship with God. Pierre chose to exemplify human dignity and Christian charity to both the affluent and impoverished in the city. However, after gaining freedom, he chose the surname Toussaint, likely in honor of Toussaint Louverture [Loo-vah-TOUR], the leader of the Haitian Revolution. This choice suggests a connection to revolutionary ideals, despite his apparent reluctance to engage in overt abolitionist activities.

In his later years, Toussaint was reluctant to discuss the atrocities he had witnessed in Haiti. His approach focused on living out his faith through acts of kindness and generosity, becoming a beacon of hope and compassion in 19th-century New York.

Pierre and Juliette wed on Aug. 5, 1811. For the next four years, they continued to board at the Nicolas house. In 1815, Gabriel Nicolas, who had remarried, moved down South with his wife, and the Touissants purchased a home of their own in Manhattan. Although they never had biological children, when Pierre’s sister Rosalie died of tuberculosis, he and Juliette adopted Rosalie’s daughter, Euphemia. They enrolled Euphemia in a school for Black children in New York. Pierre tutored her in French and taught her to write in both French and English. She also had piano lessons from an accomplished musician named Cesarine Meetz, who gave recitals at City Hotel. Cesarine’s father, Raymond, owned a musical depository on Maiden Lane and was a minor composer and music teacher. When Euphemia died at the age of 14, also of tuberculosis like her mother, Pierre and Juliette were devastated with grief, for they had loved her as their own child.

The Touissants lived a life of charity, compassion and generosity in New York City. They frequently visited the Orphan Asylum, bringing joy to the children with baked treats as well as financial support. Their home became a sanctuary, where they fostered a succession of orphan boys, providing them with education and vocational training. Pierre and Juliet established a credit bureau and an employment agency, offering crucial support to those in need. Their home also served as a refuge for priests and travelers seeking shelter. Pierre’s bilingual skills in French and English made him an invaluable asset to Haitian refugees arriving in New York. He assisted these newcomers by organizing sales of goods, helping them secure funds for their livelihood.

Pierre and his family attended St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street. He went to Mass every morning at 6:00 a.m., until in his later years illness prevented him from doing so. He was devoted to the rosary and had an excellent command of Scripture. St. Peter’s was the same parish that Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton had attended for a few years after her conversion to Catholicism in 1805, before moving to Maryland, where she founded the Sisters of Charity, America’s first community of nuns. There is no record of Seton and Touissant ever meeting one another; however, he played an important role in later raising funds for the Sisters of Charity’s orphanage in New York, even though it admitted only white children.

The Touissants’ contributions to the Catholic community were significant, including fundraising for the construction of Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Mulberry Street. They supported various Catholic institutions, including orphanages and schools, and also helped establish the first Catholic school for Black children in New York City, at St. Vincent de Paul on Canal Street. Pierre Touissant is called the “father of Catholic Charities,” because his legacy of compassion and service laid the foundation for what would later become the Catholic Charities organization.

During a cholera epidemic, Pierre fearlessly crossed barricades to care for quarantined patients. On at least one occasion, he brought a sick priest back to his house to nurse him back to health. He also showed heroic charity in his response to the outbreaks of yellow fever that occurred every summer in New York, something he had seen often back in Saint-Domingue. Hannah Sawyer Lee wrote the following about one such epidemic:“When the yellow fever prevailed in New York, by degrees Maiden Lane was almost wholly deserted, and almost every house in it closed. One poor woman, prostrated by the terrible disorder, remained there with little or no attendance, till Toussaint, day by day, came through the lonely street, crossed the barricades, entered the deserted house where she lay, and performed the nameless offices of a nurse, fearlessly exposing himself to the contagion.”

Despite his success, Toussaint faced significant challenges as a free Black man in New York, where slavery remained legal until 1829. He risked abduction by bounty hunters, and was barred from public transportation, forcing him to walk to his clients’ homes. His Catholicism added to his vulnerability, as anti-Catholic prejudice was widespread in New York at the time. Conversely, his reputation as an entrepreneur and highly-skilled master of his trade made him welcome in the homes of New York’s society families, not only as a hairdresser but as a trusted friend and confidante. Many clients came to view Pierre as more than just a hairdresser, seeking his advice on personal matters. His wisdom and discretion made him a trusted advisor. His clients were deeply impressed by his staunch commitment to discretion and his refusal to engage in gossip. This level of trust allowed them to confide in him freely, knowing their secrets were safe. One client remarked, “It was like the confessional to talk to Toussaint, you were so sure of his secrecy.” This steadfast refusal to share gossip was seen as evidence of his strong moral character. When pressed for information, Pierre would simply state, “Toussaint, Madame, is a hairdresser. He does not gather news.” This polite but firm response became well-known among his clientele, further establishing his reputation for discretion.

A significant friendship blossomed on Franklin Street in New York City, where Pierre and Juliette lived at number 144. Just down the street at number 70 resided the Moore siblings – Nathaniel Fish Moore, an enthusiastic amateur photographer and the future president of Columbia University, and his sister Sarah Ann. Toussaint’s skillful hands had long been tending to Sarah Ann’s hair, their relationship evolving from that of stylist and client to genuine friendship. Evidence of their bond survives in the Pierre Toussaint papers at the New York Public Library, where two letters from Sarah Ann reside. One, undated, simply requests a hairdressing appointment. The other, penned in 1840, speaks of a more personal connection – Sarah Ann had thoughtfully brought Pierre a rosary from her and Nathaniel’s pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

It was through this connection that Toussaint came to sit for Nathaniel Fish Moore’s camera. Nathaniel, ever eager to practice his craft, captured a striking portrait of  Toussaint in his later years. For decades, this photographic image lay dormant, passed down through the Moore family until 1944, when William Hodges, Sarah Ann’s grandson, donated it along with other salt prints to Columbia University’s Columbiana Collection. Initially misidentified and incorrectly credited, the photograph’s true significance remained hidden until many years after Pierre’s passing. But more about that later!

Through the 1820s and early 1830s, Pierre Toussaint’s fortune grew steadily through his tireless work.His days often stretched beyond 12 hours as he traversed New York’s streets, styling hair in the city’s most prestigious homes. Yet, this demanding work was not for personal gain; rather, it was a means to generate more resources for the less fortunate. When a friend suggested he had amassed enough to retire comfortably, Toussaint responded with characteristic selflessness: “Madam, I have enough for myself, but if I stop work, I have not enough for others.”

In 1835, disaster struck New York City, when the Great Fire of New York engulfed lower Manhattan, destroying between 530 and 700 buildings across 13 acres. Witnesses described the inferno as “immense iron furnaces in full blast,” with copper roofs melting and “fiery tongues of flame” leaping from buildings. This catastrophe is believed to have cost Pierre investments equivalent to almost a million dollars in today’s currency. Despite this significant financial setback, he persevered in his charitable endeavors.

Hannah Sawyer Lee eloquently captured the essence of his philanthropy in her 1854 memoir: “It must not be supposed that Toussaint’s charity consisted merely in bestowing money; he felt the moral greatness of doing good, of giving counsel to the weak and courage to the timid, of reclaiming the vicious, and above all, of comforting the sick and sorrowful.”

The 1840s brought stark reminders of the persistent racism in American society. Although New York had abolished slavery, prejudice and violence against Black individuals remained commonplace. In 1842, Toussaint and his wife faced a painful incident at Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Mulberry Street – a church whose construction he had helped finance. Unaware of his prominent status, ushers turned them away due to their race. As they turned to leave, some Cathedral trustees saw what was happening and rushed to apologize and welcome them into the church. But the damage had been done, underscoring the pervasive discrimination of the era. By contrast, Pierre’s own charity and inclusivity stood as a shining example of true Christian virtue, to be emulated not only in his day, but in ours.

Though he continued to grow steadily in spiritual strength and beauty, Pierre gradually began to decline physically during the following decade. On May 14, 1851, his beloved wife and partner, Juliette, died and was buried in the cemetery of St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral beside their adoptive daughter, Euphémia. It was at this time that Pierre demonstrated the assertiveness he could summon when it truly mattered. At Juliette’s funeral, he requested that only Black attendees follow the procession to the graveyard, although white mourners were welcome at the graveside. This practice was repeated at his own funeral.

After Juliette’s death, Pierre’s health further deteriorated. He became increasingly inactive and was often bedridden. Two days before he died, he uttered the words, “God is with me.”  When someone asked him if he wanted anything, he replied, “Nothing on Earth.” Those were his last recorded words. Pierre Toussaint entered into his eternal home on June 30, 1853.

At his funeral Mass, St. Peter’s Church overflowed with mourners of all types – rich and poor, Black and white – wishing to pay their respects to the man whose kindness, dignity and charity illuminated the lives of everyone he encountered. Pierre Toussaint had managed the incredible feat of displaying true Christian charity, compassion, respect and mercy that transcended all the levels of society in which he moved. Father Quinn, who gave the eulogy, said that Pierre Touissant was “one who always had wise counsel for the rich and words of encouragement for the poor.”

As the funeral service concluded, Pierre’s white friends and associates honored his final request, stepping back to allow members of the Black community to bear his casket through the streets to St. Patrick’s Cemetery on Mulberry Street, as they had for Juliette two years earlier. At the graveside, people from all walks of life united in prayer as Toussaint was laid to rest beside his wife Juliette and adopted daughter, Euphemia.

New York’s newspapers paid tribute to Pierre Toussaint’s passing with lavish praise. One obituary eloquently stated: “His charity was of the efficient character which did not content itself with a present relief of pecuniary aid, but which required time and thought by day and by night, and long watchfulness and kind attention at the bedside of the sick and the departing.”

In 1854, Hannah Sawyer Lee’s biography, “Memoir of Pierre Toussaint, Born a Slave in St. Domingo,” published in Boston, became crucial in preserving details of his extraordinary life through notes left by her sister, Mary Anna Schuyler, and other sources. But in the turbulent decades following Toussaint’s death, as America grappled with political upheaval leading to the Civil War and its aftermath, his remarkable story faded from public memory, persisting mainly as oral history within Haitian-American and Black Catholic communities. A few decades later, the Touissant archives at the NY Public Library were compiled by Mary Ann Schuyler’s granddaughter Georgina.

But these did not draw much public attention until the 1930s, when Garland White, Jr., a young African-American student preparing for Confirmation challenged his teacher, a seminarian named Charles McTague, with the words, “You can’t name me one Black Catholic that white people respected!” McTague did not back down from the challenge. He managed to locate a Jesuit priest named John LaFarge, who remembered his grandmother’s stories about a devout Black man who had been her hairdresser for many years. McTague rediscovered Toussaint’s family gravestone in the Mulberry Street cemetery, where the inscription had faded to the point of being illegible. This discovery generated new interest in Toussaint’s extraordinary life and works.

In the 1950s, research and promotion of Pierre Touissant’s life was begun by the John Boyle O’Reilly Committee for Interracial Justice, an Irish-American group dedicated to social justice and equality. In 1951, a petition for the canonization of Pierre Toussaint was begun, and Cardinal Francis Spellman blessed a plaque to mark Touissant’s headstone. Spellman’s successor, Cardinal Terence Cooke, initiated the cause of canonization in 1968, which gained momentum over the following decades.

Fast forward to 1990, when, as part of Toussaint’s canonization process, his remains needed to be exhumed, examined and identified. Columbiana Curator Hollee Haswell provided the photograph taken in 1850 by Nathaniel Fish Moore to a team of forensic anthropologists, who compared it against Toussaint’s exhumed skull, leading to positive identification. Cardinal John O’Connor arranged for Pierre’s remains to be interred in the crypt beneath the altar of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, an honor usually reserved only for high-ranking clerics. Pierre Touissant thus became the only lay person, and the only Black person, to be buried in this crypt. A portrait of Touissant by Hunt Slonem now also hangs in the Cathedral.

In 1996, Pope John Paul II declared Pierre Toussaint “Venerable,” advancing him one step closer to sainthood. As of now, Toussaint’s canonization cause awaits an intercessory miracle — specifically, the instantaneous, complete, permanent, and medically-inexplicable healing of a serious medical condition — to progress to the next step of beatification. A second miracle is required for canonization. He is one of six North Americans under consideration for sainthood, potentially becoming the first Black North American saint.

Pierre’s legacy continues to thrive in the Archdiocese of New York and beyond. The Pierre Toussaint Guild, actively involved in advancing his cause for sainthood, also works to share his inspiring story globally. The Pierre Toussaint Scholarship Fund, managed by the archdiocese’s Black Ministry Office, perpetuates his mission by providing financial grants, mentorship, and opportunities for students to develop both their faith and careers. The foundation’s impact extends internationally, supporting the College Pierre Toussaint in Sassier, Haiti, enabling young Haitians to acquire skills to serve their community. In Miami, Florida, the Pierre Toussaint Haitian-Catholic Center bears his name, offering support services to Haitian immigrants. Though there are too many to list here, Pierre Touissant’s legacy extends to charitable and education institutions throughout the United States and beyond.

Additionally, Toussaint’s memory is honored through various public recognitions. A series of portraits in Gracie Mansion commemorates his good works. In April 2021, a significant portion of Church Avenue in Brooklyn, New York, was co-named Pierre Toussaint Boulevard. Additionally, the intersection near St. Peter’s Church in Manhattan, Toussaint’s former parish, was named after him in 1998. Most recently, in February 2024, Toussaint was featured in the New York Times’ “Overlooked No More” series of articles, which highlight remarkable individuals whose deaths originally went unreported in The Times.

In 1999, at a Mass in Toussaint’s honor, Cardinal O’Connor said, “If ever a man was truly free, it was Pierre Toussaint…. If ever a man was a saint, in my judgment, it was Pierre Toussaint. … No one can read this man’s life…without being awed by his holiness. He is now buried beneath this high altar with all of the bishops, archbishops and cardinals of New York. It will be a great privilege for me to be buried in a vault in the same section with Pierre Toussaint.”  Cardinal O’Connor further stated that it was not necessary to wait for Pierre’s official sainthood to emulate his virtues. “Beatified or not,” he said, “Pierre Toussaint remains a wonderful model, and I wish he were here.”

February 19, 2025

PT. 4 of 4: ST. FRANCESCA CABRINI – THE FINAL YEARS

To watch the YouTube video, which includes BOTH Parts 3 & 4, click arrow in thumbnail below:

Click here to read the previous three parts:

Part One: https://everydaylifespirituality.com/2024/12/15/st-francesca-cabrini-part-one/

Part Two: https://everydaylifespirituality.com/2024/12/22/st-francesca-cabrini-part-two/

Part Three: https://everydaylifespirituality.com/2025/01/26/part-3-of-4-st-cabrinis-excellent-adventures/

Although she had become a public figure celebrated for her accomplishments, Mother Cabrini hated the spotlight and refused to allow her picture to be published in newspapers. By this stage in her life, she yearned for a retirement of peaceful contemplation, hoping to pass on the mission work to her younger and stronger nuns, This dream, however, would never materialize.

At the end of 1907, Francesca Cabrini once again set sail for Buenos Aires to visit her school—this time by boat from Barcelona instead of by mule across the Andes! After her visit, she continued on to Brazil, where her Sisters had established a school in São Paulo. Her journey then took her to Rio de Janeiro, but during the train ride through mosquito-infested marshlands, she contracted malaria and fell ill for several weeks. Despite her weakened state, she managed to open a school in Rio; however, shortly after its opening, a smallpox epidemic swept through the city, affecting several of the nuns. The first Sister to contract the disease tragically died because the authorities insisted she be taken to the public plague house, where she received inadequate care. Distraught over this, Francesca quickly arranged for a cottage outside the city for the remaining sick nuns, nursing them tirelessly just as her sister Rosa had cared for her during her own battle with smallpox decades ago in Italy.

After returning to the United States, Francesca dedicated the next two years to visiting all her houses across the country. In 1910, she was approached by the Archbishop of Chicago with a request to open a second hospital. She discovered a prime property in an affluent neighborhood, which was generously donated to the Sisters. However, local wealthy residents opposed having a free hospital in their community and attempted to dissuade Mother Cabrini through bribery and political pressure. When these tactics failed, they resorted to vandalism by cutting the water pipes on a frigid night. The resulting flood froze into thick layers of ice, which Francesca and her Sisters, along with some immigrant supporters, laboriously hacked away with pickaxes. After repairing the damage and making a few rooms livable, Francesca moved in, to ensure that the building remained guarded at night.

Their adversaries were undeterred, and one night arsonists broke into the basement and set it on fire. Fortunately, the Sisters and the fire department managed to extinguish the blaze. The following evening, however, the arsonists returned. This time, Francesca was prepared; she dashed into the street shouting for the police. The frightened criminals fled, and although they were never apprehended, they never returned. Ultimately, the hospital opened and was so well-received that many individuals and organizations within the community rallied together to support its ongoing operation.

Once the hospital was established and thriving, Francesca returned to Italy with plans to announce at the Rome motherhouse her intention to retire, and to request that a replacement be elected as Superior General. However, the Sisters were shocked and dismayed at the thought of losing their beloved Mother-Foundress. They conspired to fulfill her request by electing a Superior who would serve for life—but that Superior turned out to be Mother Cabrini herself! Surrounded by her joyful Sisters at her birthday celebration, where she was informed by the Cardinal of this decision, she graciously accepted their choice and relinquished her dream of a peaceful retirement at West Park.

While in Italy, Francesca sought out Antonia Tondini—her old nemesis who had caused her so much distress while she was a young woman caring for orphans at the House of Providence. Antonia was brought into the convent’s reception room, where Francesca warmly embraced her and said, “Please forgive me for any trouble I involuntarily may have caused you.” Confused, and overwhelmed with emotion, Antonia began to tremble and weep. Afterward, a nun asked Francesca, “Didn’t she make you suffer terribly?” To which Francesca replied with remarkable grace: “Antonia Tondini was given by God not to know any better. She truly thought that when she treated me as she did, it was for my own good.” This exemplified the profound forgiveness that dwelt in Francesca Cabrini’s magnificent heart. She recognized that all she endured at the House of Providence had been a crucible, preparing her for her great mission.

That summer, she embarked on a journey to Paris and London, seeking new houses to replace the original ones that required expansion. Her stay in London lasted 10 months, but before returning to the United States, she was compelled to return to Italy for some much-needed rest. In December, she visited Rome, where she fell gravely ill. By mid-March, her health had improved somewhat, and she abruptly announced her need to return to New York, because the hospital there required her presence. On March 27, 1911, she set sail from Naples on what would become her final sea voyage. She had a strong sense that she would never return to her homeland. As usual, the sea air invigorated her, restoring some of her strength.

Back in New York, she faced challenges in raising the necessary funds for a new Columbus Hospital to replace the old one, whose needs had outgrown its capacity. Undeterred by these obstacles, she enlisted a young architect to design a 10-story building that would eventually rise at 227 E. 19th St. Unfortunately, due to delays caused by World War I, she would not live to see its completion.

In July, while visiting West Park, she burst out of her room one morning, exclaiming that she was dying. Though she did not pass away at that time, the nuns insisted on sending her to the Mount of the Holy Cross in Colorado—a health refuge for sick nuns donated by a benefactor. Once well enough to travel, she made her way there. A fellow nun tended to her needs in a log cabin nestled among glistening snow atop the mountain. She cherished the tranquility of the place and especially loved watching the eagles soar high above her. She spent much time in peaceful meditation, gradually regaining her strength.

As soon as she was able, she ventured to Los Angeles, where another school was desperately needed. She purchased four lots, but struggled to gather enough funds to construct the school. Lacking money for a contractor, she sent for Sister Salesia, a bricklayer’s daughter with considerable building skills. At that time, the Luna Amusement Park was slated for demolition. Mother Cabrini negotiated for the rights to salvage the wooden structures set for destruction. She hired skilled Italian carpenters and laborers on a daily basis and arranged for horses and wagons to transport the materials. The parish community rallied together as well, helping dismantle the frame structures of Luna Park. Francesca was often on-site supervising the work, sporting a wide-brimmed Mexican sombrero and carrying a bamboo cane. At noon each day, she drove a horse and cart between Luna Park and the new building site, delivering wine, coffee, sandwiches and sweets to everyone laboring there. Despite the strenuous work, laughter, singing and prayer lightened their spirits. After a month of hard work collecting building materials, Francesca found herself with more than enough for the Los Angeles school, so she arranged for the surplus materials to be shipped by freight car to expand the Denver orphanage.

Leaving Sister Salesia in charge, Francesca traveled to Seattle, where an orphanage was threatened by a planned highway expansion. The orphans needed relocation, prompting her search for a new site. Exhausted from countless trips through the city, Francesca spread a map of Seattle on the table, pointed to a spot, and instructed the Sisters to explore that location and report back. That evening, the excited nuns returned with news—they had discovered what they called “a little paradise on earth.” With a knowing smile, Francesca replied, “Yes, I knew it would be beautiful. I saw it all in a dream last night.” The following day, they visited the villa, perched on a hill with breathtaking views. The owner revealed that it belonged to his wife who loved the place and would never part with it. As they descended the hill back into town, Francesca firmly declared to her Sisters, “That paradise will be for our orphans…somehow or other.”

As dusk fell, streetcars became scarce. Although hiring a taxi felt extravagant, the exhaustion of her companions made it seem to Francesca the only alternative. But just then, a limousine carrying an elegantly-dressed woman approached them. On impulse, Francesca raised her cane, signaling for assistance. The car stopped, and the lady offered them a ride back to the convent. During their drive together, the woman learned that she was speaking with Mother Cabrini—a woman she greatly admired. When Francesca mentioned the beautiful estate they had seen earlier that day, the woman’s eyes widened in astonishment; it turned out that she owned that very property! After conferring with her husband, they offered Mother Cabrini the estate at an exceptionally reasonable price. A week later, two wealthy American men donated $160,000—sufficient funds for establishing not only an orphanage on the property, but also an adjoining chapel.

Once back in New York, she resolved to establish another orphanage closer to the city. During her search for suitable properties, she stumbled upon a stunning estate right by the river in Dobbs Ferry. One of the Sisters informed her that it was a neighborhood of millionaires, and the prices would be exorbitant; moreover, the building she admired was a private school for affluent Protestant boys. Undaunted, Francesca rang the bell, which was answered by a young man whose father was the president and owner of the school. Initially cool in his demeanor, he informed Francesca that the estate was not for sale. However, as their conversation progressed, Francesca’s charm began to work its magic on him. He graciously offered to give her and the other nuns a tour of the impressive building, which included classrooms, dormitories, a kitchen, dining room, chapel, gymnasium, and swimming pool—all in excellent condition. As they departed, Francesca handed the young man her card, in case his father would consider selling. Just before leaving, she bent down to tie her shoelace, and discreetly pushed a medal of St. Joseph into the soft earth of a flower bed. A few days later, she received a letter from the owner, asking her to make an offer on the property. Armed with her plan, Francesca approached several wealthy businessmen and successfully secured the necessary funds.

With financial backing in place, she and her nuns set to work on the improvements necessary before the March 31st grand opening of what would be known as the Sacred Heart Villa at Dobbs Ferry. Francesca felt inspired by Jesus to undertake the whitewashing of the building herself. Wearing a painter’s cap and pinning up her skirts, she joyfully began painting. However, the can slipped from her hand, splattering paint all over her from head-to-toe. Laughing, she wiped at her clothes and continued with determination. The nuns held the ladder steady as she climbed up; but when they offered to take over for her, she insisted that the whitewashing was her special task. For the next 15 days, she diligently applied her brush until the job was done.

During the opening ceremony, Francesca stood alongside the Cardinal. It was at this time that the last photograph of Francesca Cabrini was taken, capturing her shining eyes and serene smile as she stood observing the happy orphans around her.

On June 28, 1914, the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand of Yugoslavia marked the beginning of the First World War. From that day on, a shadow was cast over Francesca’s heart and she was burdened with sorrow and concern for her Missionary Sisters in Europe. She prayed ceaselessly for their safety, entrusting them to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, their Divine Protector. Her usual smile was now tinged with sadness, and restful sleep eluded her; only her work provided a semblance of relief.

In August 1915, Francesca traveled to Seattle with plans to open an orphanage. The train journey proved arduous as she battled intermittent chills and fever, coupled with excruciating discomfort from sitting upright in coach for days on end. “If my Lord wants this mission accomplished,” she confided to one of the Sisters with her, “He will return to me the strength which has almost totally abandoned me.”  In Seattle, she found a fine building in the heart of the city—the former Perry Hotel, which had gone bankrupt. Her discreet inquiries revealed that the principal trustee was a Mr. Clarke based in New York. Although lacking his first name, Francesca refrained from further inquiries to avoid alerting competing interests to her intentions. She telegraphed her nuns back in New York with a clear directive: “Find a certain Mr. Clarke, who is in possession of the Seattle Hotel Perry, and ask it as a donation to charity.”

This task proved daunting with no first name, as the New York City directory listed at least 200 Clarkes! Undaunted, the Sisters patiently called each number until they finally located the right party—a shrewd Protestant man, who was taken aback by their request for such a large donation to a Catholic charity, and adamantly refused. When they reported back to Mother Cabrini, she instructed them to return and propose the lowest price he would accept. This time, he was struck by their sincere humility and agreed to negotiate. After numerous visits from the Sisters, and exchanging 90 telegrams with Mother Cabrini, he ultimately bypassed the other trustees and offered her the property for $150,000—a bargain at the time. Even the Archbishop encouraged Francesca to accept this deal. Despite her persistent fatigue, she reached out to rich and poor alike, and was able to raise $10,000 as a retainer, which Mr. Clarke accepted. However, opposition soon arose. The other trustees were furious, and influential local figures vehemently opposed an Italian orphanage in that location, out of fear it would diminish property values. They ensured that all banks in Seattle would refuse to issue a loan to Mother Cabrini. From November through April, Francesca faced relentless struggles in securing financing for the property. During Lent, she gathered all her nuns and orphans to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, placing their hopes in Jesus, while she prepared herself to accept His will—whatever it might be.

In the Seattle convent stood a statue of St. Anne holding a book and teaching young Mary to read. In desperation, Francesca wrote “$120,000” in the book held by St. Anne and spent the evening in fervent prayer. While she was praying, the doorbell rang. A young nun entered to inform her that a gentleman wished to see her. When Francesca greeted him, she discovered that he was Mr. Chilberg, the Jewish president of the Scandinavian Bank. He bowed respectfully before Mother Cabrini and apologized for being out of town when she had previously visited his bank. Upon his return, he had learned about her loan denial. He expressed complete faith in her mission and offered to arrange any amount she needed. Leading him to St. Anne’s statue, Francesca told him that the amount she needed was written in the book. He read it and nodded. She then invited him to join her in the reception room for a glass of wine, which he gratefully accepted. The following day, the contract was signed, and on April 30, Mother Cabrini officially took possession of the Perry Hotel. Together with her Sisters, she prayed for abundant blessings upon their great friend Mr. Chilberg for his generous support of their mission.

It became clear that the turmoil of wartime was not an ideal backdrop for fundraising efforts aimed at establishing an orphanage. One night, Francesca had a profound dream. As she recounted to her Sisters, “…St. Anne instructed me to relinquish my desire for a foundling home, and indicated instead a hospital that will do acts of mercy and yet sustain itself.” However, this goal proved to be as challenging as her initial one. The presence of an existing Catholic hospital in Seattle led some within the Church to deem another one unnecessary and unwelcome. Additionally, those who had previously opposed her acquisition of the Perry Hotel were now rallying against her new plans. These factions exerted pressure on local doctors, causing them to withdraw their support from Mother Cabrini’s Seattle Columbus Hospital. The situation escalated to the point where even the Archbishop forbade the opening of the facility. Although initially disheartened, Francesca soon decided to pivot her approach. Instead of a general hospital, she resolved to establish a center focused on physiotherapy and electrotherapy treatments—services that were in high demand and would not directly compete with the other Catholic hospital in Seattle.

One day, a young pregnant woman from a respectable family approached the convent with a request: she wanted her baby to be born at Mother Cabrini’s hospital. Several weeks before the delivery date, Mother Cabrini felt inspired to send a Sister to visit the young woman’s home with an urgent message to summon her doctor and come immediately to Columbus Hospital, where a bed awaited her. The young lady complied, and just hours later, she gave birth to a baby girl. Due to her premature birth, the infant’s survival was uncertain; thus, Mother Cabrini herself baptized the child, naming her Columbina, which means “little dove.”  The joyous event of the baby’s birth, and the happiness of the young parents, their family, friends and doctor, significantly eased the initial hostility towards Columbus Hospital. Over time, as word spread about the Sisters’ compassionate care, the hospital began to flourish.

In the fall of 1916, Francesca sensed that her life was nearing its end and felt compelled to visit some of her other houses. She informed the Sisters in Seattle of her intention to travel to Los Angeles. Her pale and fragile appearance alarmed the nuns in California, who had eagerly awaited her visit. Standing in the garden, she gazed lovingly at the Sisters gathered around her. The orphans burst into the garden, running toward her and joyfully shouting, “Mama Cabrini is here!” Francesca spent the winter in the warm California sun, enjoying long hours of deep meditation amidst the beauty of the garden. The orphans frequently visited her, and she delighted in sharing candy and telling them funny stories. Birds flocked to her feet, drawn by her quiet gentleness as spoke softly to them, scattering crumbs and seeds on the ground.

One of her nuns in Los Angeles, Sister Euphemia, suffered greatly from varicose veins, despite years of treatment from numerous doctors. Francesca suggested that she try wearing silk stockings to ease her discomfort. Taking this advice a step further, Sister Euphemia borrowed a pair of Mother Cabrini’s own cotton stockings and put them on. To her amazement, she found immediate relief. She shared this with Mother Cabrini, who laughed off the notion, but then gently admonished her: “I hope you’re not going to be so foolish as to say that my stockings cured you! It was your faith that did it.”

As Spring approached, Francesca realized she needed to travel to Chicago, due to issues arising at the new hospital. By the time she reached the Chicago Columbus Hospital on April 18, 1917, she appeared thin, bent, and frail, relying on a cane for support as she struggled to walk. The doctors quickly recognized that her malaria had worsened significantly and insisted on immediate treatment. Although the chills and fever eventually subsided over the following weeks, the treatment left her exceedingly weak. She also was suffering from chronic endocarditis, an infection involving the heart’s valves and lining.

Despite her frailty, Francesca rallied enough to participate in spiritual exercises at the convent that summer, being the first to arrive at the chapel each morning at 5:00 AM. Following medical advice, the Sisters arranged for her to be driven into the countryside daily, where she gathered wildflowers to adorn the chapel. Nostalgic for the farm life of her youth, she was inspired to purchase a farm for the Institute that would provide fresh produce for the hospital. After exploring rural areas further afield, she discovered a lovely farm in Park Ridge, Illinois, which she purchased in October. She found immense joy in stocking the farm with horses, cows, goats, pigs, and chickens.

By November, Francesca’s health had once again deteriorated. One morning during Mass, just after receiving Communion, she nearly collapsed. The Sisters quickly carried her to her bed. Though her strength waned daily, she yearned to be with her daughters during their recreation periods. She loved these times with the Sisters, and in the past had delighted them with her stories, and liked to play cards, although she was terrible at it and never won unless her opponents secretly let her. Mother Antonietta Della Casa, the Superior of the Hospital, now implored her to reconsider and conserve her energy. But Francesca firmly replied, “Oh, no! It is only now at their recreation that I can be together with them. If I am not, they will think I do not love them.”

During these cherished recreation times, she would bring them small gifts of fruit, candy, cake, or cookies—tailored to each Sister’s preference—as they gathered around her affectionately. On December 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, she asked the Sisters to write verses about the Virgin Mary. This would be the last time she could join them for recreation. Subsequently, she quietly withdrew to spiritually prepare herself for Christmas—a feast that held a special place in her heart. She ordered new habits for all of the Sisters, including one for herself, secretly knowing she would be buried in it. For the Order’s Christmas cards, Francesca requested a verse from the Psalms to be printed: “Oh, send out Thy light and Thy truth; let them lead me; let them bring me unto Thy holy hill, and to Thy tabernacles.” When a Sister objected that the verse seemed more fitting for a funeral than for Christmas, Francesca smiled and insisted, “Yes, I know, but this Christmas that verse goes well. Leave it the way it is.” Upon learning that the 500 children of the parish school would have to go without candy due to the difficult times, she exclaimed, “Oh, no! They must have their candy! Christmas would not be Christmas for them without it!”She instructed the Sisters to purchase the candy at her expense.

On December 21, despite suffering from the final stages of malaria, Francesca attended Mass and joined the Sisters in preparing the Christmas packages of candy for the children. The following morning, December 22, 1917, Mother Della Casa visited Francesca’s room to greet her and consult about the day’s tasks. A young nun came in to ask if Francesca wanted a bowl of broth. She agreed, and requested that her room be tidied so she could sit in her rocking chair. Mother Della Casa returned at 11:40 AM with a question for Francesca. After she left, Francesca locked the door and returned to her chair to pray and meditate in solitude. While sitting there, she felt a sudden pain in her chest and got up to unlock the door and ring for help. When a Sister entered, she found Francesca slumped in her wicker chair, her nightgown and handkerchief stained with blood. The young nun rushed to summon Mother Della Casa, who immediately sent for both the priest and the doctor. All the nuns hurried to Francesca’s room, finding her unconscious. The priest administered Last Rites just as Francesca opened her eyes one final time. She leaned her head against Mother Della Casa’s arm and cast a loving glance at all her Sisters before drawing her last breath.

A solemn Requiem Mass was celebrated by the Archbishop of Chicago, after which Francesca’s body was transported to New York for a second Requiem Mass conducted by Bishop Hayes at St. Patrick’s Cathedral. In accordance with her wishes, her body was interred at her beloved West Park on January 2, 1918. Hundreds of orphans dressed in white, carrying lilies and candles, followed her casket from the convent chapel to her tomb. In 1930, her remains were moved to their current location in the chapel of Mother Cabrini High School (formerly the Sacred Heart Villa) at 701 Ft. Washington Avenue.

In 1928, the process for her canonization began. Two miracles are required for sainthood, and in Francesca’s case, the first miracle involved an infant named Peter Smith, who was born at the New York Columbus Hospital on March 14, 1921. As was customary at the time, a nurse applied a solution of silver nitrate to the infant’s eyes. As she put the bottle down, she realized with horror that in her haste she had used a 50% solution instead of the intended 1%, resulting in severe chemical burns to the baby’s eyes. An eye specialist, along with other doctors, concluded that there was nothing they could do—the corneas of the eyes were destroyed, and the child would be permanently blind. The Mother Superior rushed in with a relic of Mother Cabrini, placed it on the baby’s eyes, and then pinned it to his nightgown. She and the Sisters, along with the nurse involved, spent the entire night praying in the chapel for a miracle.

The following morning, when the doctors returned to examine baby Peter, they were astonished to find his eyes intact and perfectly normal. However, that same day, the infant developed double pneumonia, with a temperature reaching 108°F—just one degree short of fatal. The doctor advised the Mother Superior to start praying again, as the baby’s condition was critical. “Doctor,” she replied confidently, “Mother Cabrini has not cured his eyes just to let him die of pneumonia!” They prayed once more, pleading for a second miracle. By morning, all symptoms of pneumonia had vanished. Peter Smith grew up healthy with normal vision, and as a young man, served as a soldier in the Army. The only remnants of his hospital ordeal were two small scars from the silver nitrate that had leaked from his eyes.

The second miracle involved Sister Delfina Grazioli, who had suffered since 1915 from adhesions of the gallbladder and intestines. Despite undergoing four surgeries, her condition showed no improvement, and she was painfully wasting away. By December 1925, doctors had given up all hope and predicted she had only a day or two left to live. Funeral arrangements were already underway; however, on the night of December 16, after praying to Mother Cabrini, Sister Delfina saw her in a dream. The next morning, although still very weak, she announced that she was cured. The instantaneous healing was confirmed by the doctors, and she never experienced a recurrence of her illness. Mother Francesca Xavier Cabrini was beatified on November 13, 1938, and canonized on July 7, 1946.

Throughout her life, Francesca believed that faith, simplicity, humility, and obedience were the foundations of all spiritual power. She often reminded her Sisters that the only necessary mortification was to perfectly observe the Rule of the Order and wholeheartedly carry out their daily tasks. She prayed fervently that she would never ask her nuns to do anything she herself was unwilling to do. Francesca valued openness and candor in others and detested any pretentious displays of piety. She did not want to see her Sisters carrying rosaries unless they were actively reciting them. Always gentle and kind in her approach, she never hesitated to speak her mind, but did so with compassion. Rather than giving orders, she made requests that were promptly obeyed. She discouraged self-pity and long faces among her Sisters. A sense of humor and fun bubbled out of her spontaneously, gladdening the hearts of everyone who came under the spell of her infectious smile.

In my research for this video series, I came across a quote from one of her biographers that described her life as “a quiet whirlwind.” I can think of no better description. Francesca Cabrini perfectly fulfilled the hope she once wrote in her notebook: “I wish to die of love after a life of total surrender to God….Oh Jesus, I love you so much, so much!….Give me a heart as large as the universe, so that I may love you, if not as much as you deserve, at least as much as I am capable of.”

December 30, 2024

Identifying Habitual Thought Patterns

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My last blog post, “Time to Wake Up,” addressed how what we think consciously and believe subconsciously affects how we act and react to the world around us, and how our thoughts can directly influence our future. This principle, nowadays called “The Law of Attraction (LOA),” has actually been around for thousands of years and can be found in the Bible and many other spiritual texts and teachings. So it is important that we first identify our habitual thought patterns, to see which ones are serving us and which might be holding us back from achieving the sort of life we would like to have.

Following is a series of questions to help you in this thought identification process.

Do you often say or think any of the following:

  • I’m too ___ (tired, sick, achy, weak, old, young, fat, ugly, stupid, etc.)
  • I’ll never be able to _____ (fill in the blank)
  • I’m not ______(fill in the blank)
  • I’m a bad sleeper
  • I can’t relax…I can’t concentrate…I can’t lose weight…I can’t get up early…I can’t _______ (fill in the blank)
  • I’m always late / I’m always running behind schedule
  • I never have any money
  • I’ll never get out of debt
  • I’m never at the right place at the right time
  • It’s all the fault of my dysfunctional parents/family…my bad childhood…the traits I inherited from my parents, etc.
  • I’m just a victim of ______.
  • I have no control over what happens to me
  • I never get a break
  • It’s Murphy’s Law
  • I just look at food and gain weight
  • I’m getting…(old, fat, sick, worn out, forgetful, poorer)
  • I’ve only got a few more years left
  • I’m not ____ enough (i.e., smart, attractive, thin, talented, skilled, educated, rich) — or:  I don’t have enough ______ (brains, education, looks, money, ability, luck, talent, etc.)
  • Something that good can never happen to me
  • I’d never be so lucky
  • I never win anything
  • Other people get everything, and I get nothing
  • This is just my luck (or) I never have any luck
  • I hate that person
  • I look horrible in everything I put on
  • I never take a good picture
  • I’ll never have enough ____ (money, time, ability, health, etc.)
  • I’m so afraid of _____ 
  • I really dread _______
  • I’m not feeling well – it’s probably cancer
  • I will probably get (name the disease), because it runs in my family (or because so many people get it).
  • I live in constant fear of getting (this disease).
  • I HATE (cancer, diabetes, asthma – or any disease)
  • We must FIGHT cancer (or other disease or problem)
  • Getting old sucks
  • I’m getting senile
  • I just can’t lose weight
  • I can’t cope with this
  • What if _____ (imagining something bad and then worrying about it)
  • I always have too much work
  • I hate my job and I’ll never get a better one
  • I don’t have enough to give to or share with anyone else
  • I’ll never forgive _____ (fill in name(s))
  • I’m too…(old, tired, busy, far gone)…to care about my looks or my health anymore
  • Everyone gets (fat, sick, high blood pressure, diabetes, memory loss) as they age.
  • I’m just falling apart
  • It’s hopeless
  • I never get good weather on my vacations or when I plan something

Do you often:

  • Gossip or complain about someone, or join in gossip/complaining about someone?
  • Try to instigate trouble and bad feeling among others?
  • Argue over and/or ridicule someone’s political or spiritual opinions?
  • End a friendship or become estranged from a family member because of differing political or spiritual beliefs?
  • Feel you have nothing to be thankful for?
  • Compare yourself negatively to other people?
  • Make nasty, snide or critical comments or cruel jokes in person or on social media?
  • Refuse to buy something you really wanted or needed, even though you have more than enough money to afford it, because you’re afraid to spend any money?
  • Make self-deprecating comments or denials when someone compliments you?
  • Criticize someone, and/or try to make someone else do things your way?
  • Harbor resentment or bitterness towards someone? Keep thinking about how to get even? Wish bad things on them?
  • Respond instantly with anger to someone else’s words or actions?
  • Try to control and “fix” other people’s lives rather than letting them learn from their experiences in their own way?
  • Frequently make or share self-deprecating remarks or jokes about being stupid, fat, old, forgetful, or other negative things?
  • Forward emails or share social media posts encouraging hatred against anyone or anything (political figures, celebrities, certain races, ethnic groups, religions, etc.)?
  • Say, “I HATE____” (fill in the blanks)?
  • Talk at length and frequently about your illnesses or someone else’s?
  • Feel envy towards someone? Withhold a compliment from someone because you secretly envy them?
  • Try to take something/someone away from a person because you think you deserve it more? Try to turn others against someone because you’re jealous?
  • Constantly worry about your loved ones and what could happen to them, or about losing your partner, your money, your health, etc.?
Photo by Keira Burton at Pexels

Okay, so you probably identified with at least several – and maybe a lot – of these. Some of them might rarely or never pertain to you, while others are fairly frequent. If so, welcome to the human race! We ALL think, say or do these things from time to time. A fleeting thought or occasional slip-up won’t have a significant effect on your life or your future. If, however, you habitually think, do or say any of them, and if the thoughts carry a strong emotional charge, you are setting yourself up to attract exactly what you say you hate, fear and don’t want! This is because our subconscious mind believes everything we tell it, whether it’s true, false, good or bad. It is merely responding to our conscious thoughts, words and actions, like an obedient, cooperative child. It doesn’t analyze whether the thoughts are good or bad for you, positive or negative. Analyzing and choosing are the domain of the conscious mind; the subconscious just accepts what we tell it.

Consequently, with our negative thoughts we will attract, or subconsciously be attracted to, just the circumstances and people that we want so much to avoid! Also, fighting against something negative is never as effective as striving instead to bring about a positive result. For example, instead of hating and “fighting” a disease, it’s better instead to think wellness and health, and do whatever we can to promote these positive qualities. Mother Teresa, now St. Teresa of Calcutta, was quoted as saying:“I was once asked why I don’t participate in anti-war demonstrations. I said that I will never do that, but as soon as you have a pro-peace rally, I’ll be there.”

Negative thinking also will block any good things that God wants to send us. Nothing is forced on us by God, who respects and honors our free will. Negative thinking is like keeping your hands behind your back when someone offers you a gift. You cannot accept the gift unless your hands are open to receive it.

LOA experts recommend that we shift our positive thoughts to at least 51% over the negative ones. Even this 1% over the halfway mark could be enough to dramatically change one’s life. I believe that the more we can shift our thoughts from the negative to the positive, the quicker and more dramatic the change will be!

Legend says that in the Buddha’s travels, he encountered a man who was awed by his peaceful, radiant persona. The man asked, “My friend, what are you? Are you a celestial being? Are you a god? A magician? A wizard?” The Buddha replied, “No. I am awake.”

Jesus told His followers that if they had faith “the size of a mustard seed” they could move mountains. He also told them that, with enough faith and belief, they could do all the things that He had done, and even greater things.

Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

We cannot even begin to improve our lives unless we become awake and aware of the negative thoughts and lack of faith we harbor on a daily basis. Otherwise, we walk around in a perpetual state of “automatic pilot” and unconsciousness. Once you become aware, you will begin to notice any instances in which you are thinking or speaking negatively. You also will be shocked and dismayed at all the negativity you will notice around you from other people! In upcoming posts we’ll examine these negative thoughts and attitudes and explore ways to bring about positive change and achieve our goals and dreams.

Have a positively wonderful day! 

August 4, 2024

KATERI TEKAWITHA, “Lily of the Mohawks”

First Native American Woman Saint

To watch the YouTube video, click on the arrow in the thumbnail below:

Kateri Tekakwitha, “Lily of the Mohawks”

Around 1656 in the Mohawk village of Ossernenon, located in what is now northeastern New York State, a baby girl was born. Little did anyone know that this child would grow up to become a significant figure in both Native American and Catholic history. Her parents named her “Little Sunshine,” because she was born at sunrise and had a cheerful disposition. Her father, Kenneronkwa, was a Mohawk chief of the Turtle Clan, one of the three separate extended family networks of the Mohawk nation, the other two being the Wolf clan and the Bear clan. Her mother was an Algonquin woman named Kahenta, who had been captured by Mohawk warriors and brought to their homeland. She was eventually adopted and assimilated into the tribe, but with one important difference: before her capture, Kahenta had been baptized as a Catholic and educated by French missionaries. Kenneronkwa wished to maintain peace between the Mohawk nation and the French, and was tolerant of the spread of the Catholic faith. Kahenta likely introduced Little Sunshine to Jesus, Mary, and the Christian faith as she grew up in a fully Mohawk culture, although Kenneronkwa did not consent to the baptism of his children.

Their village was a melting pot of cultures and traditions. Because the Mohawk had lost so many of their people  to warfare and disease, they actively absorbed captured natives from other tribes, particularly their rivals, the Huron. This diversity would have exposed the children of the village to a rich tapestry of Native American cultures from an early age.

Four years later, a devastating smallpox epidemic swept through the village, claiming the lives of Kenneronkwa, Kahenta, and their baby boy. Little Sunshine survived, but the disease left its mark – her face was scarred, her eyesight impaired. She was adopted by her father’s sister, and her aunt’s husband, who had succeeded Kenneronkwa as the new chief of the Turtle Clan. In their Haudenosaunee culture, this adoption meant that they treated her exactly as if she were their own biological child. Haudenosaunee parents typically gave their children names later in life, after observing unique traits about them. The little girl’s adoptive parents renamed her ‘Tekakwitha,’ which in English means ‘she walks groping for her way’ or ‘she puts things in their place.’ This name reflected both her physical reality—having to feel her way around due to her impaired vision—and her personality traits. Little Tekakwitha, now an orphan, indeed had to navigate her way through her new life while dealing with the physical and emotional scars of her ordeal.

Tekakwitha’s childhood and teenage years were set against a backdrop of considerable upheaval. The Mohawk were caught between French and Dutch colonists competing for control of the lucrative fur trade. In 1666, when Tekakwitha was about 10 years old, a significant French military campaign targeted the Mohawk territory. The Mohawk, facing overwhelming odds, strategically withdrew from their settlements rather than engage in direct conflict. The French resorted to destructive measures by burning Mohawk towns and destroying food supplies, thus creating a severe threat of famine. But the Mohawk people, including young Tekakwitha, managed to survive, aided by the support of the other Haudenosaunee nations and their traditional practice of maintaining substantial food reserves. In the aftermath, the Mohawk rebuilt their communities, with each clan establishing new primary settlements.

In 1667, when Tekakwitha was 11, three Jesuit missionaries arrived in her village. She was fascinated by these strange men in black robes, speaking of a God she had never known. Her uncle did not want Tekakwitha to convert. He was wary of Christians and often opposed them, which created tension when she began showing interest in Christianity. But this encounter with the Jesuits eventually would prove to be a great turning point in Tekakwitha’s life.

Despite her interest in Christianity, Tekakwitha continued to grow up immersed in Mohawk culture. Over the years, her eyesight had improved somewhat, and she became skilled in the traditional women’s arts of learning to make clothing, weave mats, process animal pelts, tend crops, and prepare food. But there was something different about Tekakwitha – she was described as a modest girl who often avoided social gatherings.

Despite the turmoil around her, Tekakwitha’s strength of character shone brightly. In the summer of 1669, when she was around 13, she shocked everyone by refusing to consider marriage. In a bold statement to her confessor, she declared, “I can have no spouse but Jesus,” and even went as far as to say, “I have the strongest aversion to marriage.”

That same year, Mohican warriors attacked her village. Instead of hiding, Tekakwitha joined other girls in helping a priest named Jean Pierron tend to the wounded, bury the dead, and carry food and water to those in need, demonstrating her compassionate and caring nature.

As Tekakwitha grew older, the pressure to conform to traditional expectations intensified. When she was about 17, her adoptive mother and another aunt tried to arrange her marriage to a young Mohawk man. But Tekakwitha stood her ground. In a dramatic turn of events, she fled from her cabin and hid in a nearby field to avoid the marriage. Her determination was so strong that eventually, her aunts gave up their efforts to marry her off.

In the 1600’s, the Haudenosaunee men and women donned cloth garments, adapting their attire to various occasions, much like we do in our modern world. The women’s fashion, in particular, was a vibrant tapestry of colors, adorned with intricate beadwork that told stories of their rich culture. Unmarried Mohawk women of that era had a unique custom of leaving their hair loose and unbraided, a symbol of their status and freedom. Tekakwitha, however, stood out from the crowd with her distinctive choice of attire. While her peers favored the popular red shawl draped over their shoulders, Tekakwitha opted for a Marian blue shawl that she wore over her head. This wasn’t merely a fashion statement; it served a practical purpose, shielding her sensitive eyes and partially concealing her scarred face. Although self-conscious about her smallpox scars, she embraced them with true humility, viewing them as a blessing that allowed her to focus more on her spiritual life rather than receiving attention for her appearance.

In the spring of 1674, when Tekakwitha was 18, she met Jesuit priest Jacques de Lamberville, who was visiting her village. In a brave move, Tekakwitha openly shared her story with him and expressed her desire to become a Christian. This marked the beginning of her formal Christian education as she started studying the catechism with Lamberville.

Tekakwitha’s journey to Catholicism was significantly influenced by Mohawk converts who had embraced the faith. These role models lived out their faith in a way that made a deep impression on her. Their commitment to Jesus Christ and their ability to integrate their Catholic faith with their Mohawk culture showed Kateri that she could do the same. However, her decision to convert was not an easy path, as it sometimes led to tensions within her family and community, particularly given the complex political landscape of the time. Even before her religious conversion, her refusal to marry and start a family – values deeply ingrained in Mohawk culture – strained her relationship with her adopted parents. Her embrace of Catholicism in 1676 only increased the tensions.

Tekakwitha’s baptism on Easter Sunday of 1676 marked a significant milestone in her spiritual journey. The choice of her baptismal name, “Kateri,” which means “Catherine” in English, remains a topic of speculation. Some biographers suggest she named herself after St. Catherine of Siena, the contemplative mystic, while others propose St. Catherine of Alexandria, who was martyred for her faith. It’s possible that Kateri identified with both the mystic and the martyr, adding profound meaning to her chosen name and identity. Her baptism marked the beginning of her deep and personal relationship with God. Her faith was not just a set of beliefs but a way of life that influenced every aspect of her existence.

Holy Mohawk Catholics played a significant role in Kateri’s conversion. Many lay Catholics bore witness to their faith, sharing their testimonies of life in Jesus Christ and inviting their fellow Mohawk to follow Him. While Jesuit priests were involved in her instruction, it was the evangelization by Mohawk Catholics, living out their faith within their culture, that deeply impressed her. By this time, some of the Mohawk Catholics advocated for re-establishing themselves at the St. Francis Xavier du Pres settlement at Caughnawaga — now known as Kahnawake. It was situated on their traditional northern frontiers in what is now southern Quebec. Known as “the praying village,” it was founded by a devout Oneida married couple, in conjunction with the Jesuits. Migrating to Caughnawaga would allow Mohawk Catholics to live their faith intentionally and position them to dominate a trading route with the French, while also guarding the southern approach to Montreal.

Kateri Tekakwitha found herself at the center of a cultural and spiritual storm. Her adopted father took a very harsh approach to maintaining unity and keeping people rooted in Mohawk territory. This stance, largely supported by the influential clan mothers, led to severe consequences for those who chose to leave. But rather than convincing them to stay, the chief’s stringent policies actually encouraged Mohawk Catholics more than ever to migrate to Caughnawaga. Kateri, as the daughter of a Turtle clan chief, was in a quandary further complicated by her adopted sister’s conversion and subsequent move to Caughnawaga with her husband.

As a devout Catholic, Kateri’s decision to observe Christian practices, such as refraining from work on Sundays and holy days, was perceived by many as shirking her duties to the Mohawk nation. Yet, despite facing opposition from her tribe and even her own family, Kateri remained steadfast and courageous in her faith. She endured escalating hostility, including being insulted and ostracized, harsh labor, having stones thrown at her, and being denied food, yet she persevered in her Christian beliefs. Even as she faced persecution from her own people, Kateri prayed for their conversion and forgiveness, showing a remarkable capacity for love and understanding. In a particularly cruel attempt to prevent her departure, one of her aunts falsely accused Kateri of incest with an uncle, figuring that this would make her unwelcome in the praying village.

Aided by the encouragement of a Jesuit priest, Kateri’s unwavering faith led her to Caughnawaga in 1677, a year after her conversion. In this welcoming community, she could fully embrace her identity as a Mohawk Catholic woman. Kateri showed exceptional devotion to her faith, particularly to the Blessed Sacrament, which she visited frequently throughout the day. She attended daily morning Mass and was often the first to arrive at the chapel, even in harsh winter conditions. At Mass, the priests would pray in Latin, while the congregation sang in their native language. The sermons were preached by Haudenosaunee catechists. Kateri participated in Vespers and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament in the evening, and received the sacraments regularly. She spent many hours in prayer, both in the chapel and in nature. Along with the other residents, she prayed the Rosary as she worked in the fields. She also worked alongside the Jesuits in caring for the sick, wounded and elderly. Because of her personal sanctity and exemplary virtue, Kateri was soon invited to join the Holy Family Confraternity, a spiritual community at Caughnawaga dedicated to living out Gospel values. They would meet every Sunday afternoon and prayed a special form of the rosary. Her profound spirituality attracted a group of devout women, known as “Kateri’s band,” with whom she contemplated establishing a culturally-aligned religious order, but was discouraged from doing so by the Jesuits, probably because of her poor health. She formed close bonds with Marie-Thérèse Tegaiaguenta, an Oneida convert about her age, and Father Claude Chauchetière, who became her spiritual advisor. Throughout her time in Caughnawaga, St. Kateri’s guiding principle was reflected in her motto, “Who will teach me what is most agreeable to God, so that I may do it?

Still experiencing pressure from her relatives to marry, on March 25, 1679, at the age of 23, she made her consecration of virginity, framing her commitment in matrimonial terms. Instead of getting married in the traditional sense, she decided to become a “bride of Christ.” In this way, St. Kateri demonstrated that she was not rejecting the traditional Mohawk values of marriage and family. Instead, she chose to live out these values spiritually through her union with Jesus. Making a private vow of perpetual virginity was unusual for a young woman in her culture. Her biographer, Fr. Claude Chauchetière, described her chastity as “the most beautiful flower in her crown”.

Kateri’s Vow of Chastity

However, even in this rose garden of spirituality that was Caughnawaga, she wasn’t immune to the thorns of human nature. A painful incident arose when a woman in the community, driven by jealousy and misunderstanding, falsely accused St. Kateri of seducing her husband during a hunting trip. This accusation was particularly hurtful, as it echoed similar false claims made against her in her homeland. Despite the pain this caused, Kateri’s response was one of grace and restraint. She denied the accusation, as did the woman’s husband, but chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made the personal decision to abstain from future hunting trips, wanting to avoid even the appearance of impropriety. Eventually, the the woman  realized her error of rash judgement and repented. But the shadow of this accusation lingered, prompting a Jesuit priest to seek confirmation of St. Kateri’s innocence on her deathbed. While this questioning was undoubtedly distressing for Kateri in her final moments, it served a greater purpose. The priest’s intention was to secure a deathbed testimony that would silence any future detractors and preserve Kateri’s legacy of purity and devotion. This poignant episode highlights Kateri’s unwavering faith and character in the face of adversity, further cementing her status as a model of Christian virtue.

Kateri Tekakwitha’s relationship with nature and creation was deeply intertwined with her faith and cultural heritage. She had a profound connection with the natural world, which was a significant part of her Mohawk heritage. The Haudenosaunee people, including the Mohawks, held a deep respect for nature, seeing it as a gift from the Creator. This respect was reflected in their daily lives, rituals, and spiritual practices. For Kateri, nature was not just a backdrop for her life but a living testament to God’s presence and creation. She often found solace and inspiration in the natural world, which she saw as a reflection of God’s beauty and handiwork. This connection with nature was evident in her prayer life and her contemplative practices.

Kateri would often retreat to the woods to pray, finding in the quiet and solitude of nature a perfect setting to commune with God. The forests, rivers, and fields around her were not just physical spaces but sacred places where she could feel closer to the Creator. Her deep love for the natural world was a way for her to express her gratitude and reverence for God’s creation. She saw the land as a sacred trust, something to be cared for and preserved for future generations. Her relationship with nature resonated with the Haudenosaunee belief in responsible stewardship of the earth, and also was in harmony with her Catholic faith, which teaches respect for God’s creation and the importance of caring for the environment.

Kateri’s devotion manifested in intense ascetic practices that often surpassed the expectations and comfort levels of her Jesuit mentors. These penances, driven by an ardent love for Christ, included extreme fasting and bodily mortifications, which she often concealed from the concerned Jesuits and shared only with close confidantes like Marie-Therese. The severity of Kateri’s self-imposed disciplines reflected a 17th-century Western Catholic theology that emphasized Christ’s suffering. Another intention behind her penances seemed to be reparation: Kateri took on her own body the punishments due to sin that might otherwise fall on the Mohawk nation, whom she loved deeply. Kateri’s asceticism also incorporated traditional Mohawk practices designed to prepare individuals to display their orenda, or “greatness of spirit,” in the face of extreme pain, such ritual torture and death at the hands of enemies. When Marie-Therese informed the Jesuit father that Kateri was lying on a bed of thorns, he ordered her to stop out of obedience.

After a painful illness that left her bedridden in the longhouse, Kateri died on Holy Wednesday, April 17, 1680, softly repeating her last words, “Jesus, Mary, I love you,” in her native language. She was buried according to her people’s traditional customs. The Haudenosaunee Catholics of Caughnawaga honored her with the highest praise they could give: “She died as she lived. That is, a saint.” Upon drawing her last breath, her skin became clear and smooth, with no sign of smallpox scars.  Her face radiated a smiling beauty and serenity which remained until her burial.

Immediately following her death, Kateri appeared in visions to some of her loved ones, assuring them that she was going home to God. These apparitions held a deeper meaning in traditional Haudenosaunee culture than might be apparent to Catholics accustomed to European culture. According to Haudenosaunee beliefs, the souls of the dead would visit their loved ones before departing to the village of the dead.

One night, one of the Jesuits had a dream in which St. Kateri appeared to him. In the dream, their chapel was overturned, and one of Caughnawaga’s Catholics was burning at the stake. This prophecy seemed to come true when a powerful windstorm flattened the church, nearly killing the Jesuits inside. They prayed to Kateri for protection and credited their survival to her intercession. This event, along with the eventual martyrdom of Caughnawaga’s Haudenosaunee Catholics, reinforced their belief in her protective presence. This vision of the overturned church and the persecuted indigenous Christian might have multiple fulfillments. Further south, the La Florida Mission Martyrs, primarily Appalachee and Timucua Catholics, were killed for their faith during an invasion and persecution led by the English. The vision’s fulfillment has likely repeated itself in more recent times, particularly during the 19th and 20th centuries.

Although St. Kateri did not experience martyrdom herself, her witness and prayers had a profound impact on the Haudenosaunee Catholics of Caughnawaga, deepening their commitment to the Catholic faith.

Kateri Tekakwitha’s journey to sainthood is a fascinating tale that intertwines Native American and Catholic traditions. The first written account of her life didn’t appear until 1715, decades after her death. Her commitment to chastity earned her the title “Lily of the Mohawks,” drawing on the flower’s symbolism of purity in Christian iconography. Artistic depictions of Tekakwitha often feature a lily and cross, with feathers or a turtle added to acknowledge her Mohawk heritage. She acquired several other poetic titles, including “the Mohawk Maiden,” “the Pure and Tender Lily,” and “the New Star of the New World.” Her gravestone bears the inscription “the fairest flower that ever bloomed,” reflecting how she was viewed by both her tribal community and European settlers.

Tekakwitha’s legacy sparked an increase in Native American participation in Catholicism. In the 1730s, a convent for Native American nuns opened in Mexico. By the 1880s, Indian Catholic missions and bishops were petitioning for her official veneration alongside Jesuit martyrs Isaac Jogues and René Goupil.

Over the centuries, devotion to Kateri Tekakwitha grew, and numerous miracles were attributed to her intercession. Her reputation spread across North America, with French Canadians reporting miraculous recoveries. People would take dirt from her grave and touch it to their bodies. Many personal miracles were attributed to St. Kateri, and among the French, she was known as the “Genevieve of Canada” for her aid during times of conflict and famine. Native communities across the continent heard of Kateri Tekakwitha long before any Catholic missionaries arrived there.

The path to Tekakwitha’s canonization began in earnest at the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore in 1885. Support came from both U.S. and Canadian Catholics, with 906 Native Americans signing letters advocating for her sainthood. Her cause progressed steadily: her spiritual writings were approved in 1936, she was declared Venerable by Pope Pius XII in 1943. There were so many reports of miracles that St. John Paul II waived the first miracle requirement for her beatification in 1980.

The miracle that led to St. Kateri’s canonization was the healing of a five-year-old boy, Jacob Finkbonner, a descendant of the Lummi nation in Washington state. He was cured of a fatal flesh-eating disease that had attacked his face. Doctors had given up all hope of his recovery. Interestingly, one of Finkbonner’s ancestors had signed a petition to canonize Kateri back in the 19th century.

On Oct. 21, 2012, Kateri Tekakwitha was canonized by Pope Benedict XVI. Although St. Juan Diego is considered the first indigenous saint of the Americas, Kateri Tekakwitha is the first Native American woman saint. Along with St. Francis of Assisi, she is the patron saint of ecology and the environment. Her patronage also includes Native Americans, orphans, people in exile, those ridiculed for their faith, and World Youth Day. She is also one of the patron saints of Canada. Her feast day in the United States is July 14; in Canada, it is celebrated on April 17.

St. Kateri Tekakwitha’s canonization has sparked a renewed interest in the Native American roots of Catholicism in North America, fostering a deeper appreciation for indigenous contributions to the faith, and has reinvigorated efforts to recognize other Native American holy figures, such as the Martyrs of La Florida Missions, Nicholas Black Elk, and Rose Prince. These emerging stories of Native American saints and martyrs are enriching the Catholic Church’s understanding of its diverse heritage in North America.

St. Kateri Tekakwitha was a remarkable figure whose life bridged Indigenous and European cultures during a tumultuous period in North American history. Her life was a powerful witness to the transformative power of faith. Despite the challenges she faced, including the loss of her family, physical ailments, and cultural pressures, St. Kateri remained committed to her spiritual path. Her ability to integrate her Catholic beliefs with her Mohawk identity, her devotion to prayer and the sacraments, and her unwavering commitment to purity and holiness all highlight the central role that faith played in her life. Her legacy remains complex. She is viewed by some as a symbol of religious transformation. Others regard her as a victim of colonization, even though Christianity was never forced upon her; she willingly chose it and embraced it with her entire being. Regardless of interpretation, her story continues to inspire many, showing that true sanctity is possible even in the face of great adversity.

St. Kateri Tekakwitha,
First Native American Woman Saint

PRAYER TO ST. KATERI TEKAKWITHA

by Harold Caldwell

O Saint Kateri, Lily of the Mohawks,
Your love for Jesus,
so strong, so steadfast,
pray that we may become like you.

Your short and painful life 
showed us your strength and humility.
Pray that we may become 
forever humble like you.

Like the bright and shining stars at night,
we pray that your light 
may forever shine down upon us, 
giving light, hope, peacefulness
and serenity in our darkest moments.

Fill our hearts, Saint Kateri Tekakwitha
with your same love for Jesus 
and pray that we have the 
strength and courage 
to become one like you in heaven.
Through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

June 1, 2024

UNLOCK THE POWER! THE SACRED HEART DEVOTION

Sacred Heart of Jesus

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Is your prayer life dull and dry? Do you feel bored and stagnant in your spiritual growth? Or are you looking for a more intimate relationship with Jesus Christ? If you answered yes to any of these questions, get ready to supercharge your spiritual life and benefit from the 12 awe-inspiring promises of Jesus to all those who embrace devotion to His Sacred Heart!

“In the Sacred Heart, every treasure of wisdom and knowledge is hidden,” said St. John Paul II. “In that divine heart beats God’s infinite love for everyone and for each of us as individuals.” 

You’ve probably seen those iconic images – the heart of Jesus aflame, encircled by thorns, and crowned with a cross. But where did this devotion come from, and why has it captured hearts worldwide? Get ready to be enlightened and inspired as we delve into the rich history and profound spiritual depths of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

HOW IT BEGAN

Although the modern devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus was popularized by St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, a French nun who had several visions of Christ in the late 17th century, it actually had its roots in early Church history. Church Fathers such as St. Justin Martyr, St. Irenaeus, and St. Augustine, made references to the Heart of Jesus as a symbol of Christ’s love for humanity.

In the Middle Ages, the devotion grew through the writings and visions of mystics such as St. Bernard of Clairvaux and St. Anselm in the 12th century, who referred directly to the love of the Sacred Heart. In the 13th century, the writings of St. Gertrude the Great spoke extensively of the love of the Sacred Heart for humanity on earth and the souls in Purgatory. During the same century, the Franciscan and Dominican Orders also helped spread this devotion through their preaching on the Sacred Heart as a symbol of Divine Love. All of this laid the groundwork for the revelations of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, a nun of the Visitation Order in Paray-le-Monial, France, from 1673 to 1675.

During the 1600’s, the Catholic Church in France was plagued with schisms and heresy, especially Jansenism, a strict, puritanical interpretation of morality with a very limited view of salvation. The dogma of God’s infinite love for man was looked upon with coldness, indifference and doubt.

But on Dec. 27, 1673, during the first revelation of the Sacred Heart to St. Margaret Mary, Jesus told her, “My Divine Heart is so passionately in love with humankind that it cannot contain itself within the flames of its ardent charity. It must spread them abroad by your means, and manifest Itself to them.”

Vision of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

Of the second vision, Margaret wrote: “The Divine Heart was presented to me in a throne of flames, more resplendent than a sun, transparent as crystal. It was surrounded with a crown of thorns, signifying the punctures made in it by our sins, and a cross above.”

During the third revelation, Jesus appeared brilliant with glory, His five wounds shining like five suns. He revealed to Margaret His wish to be known, loved, and honored by all, and to draw them away from damnation. He said that the ingratitude He received from humankind in return for His great love was much more painful to Him than all He had suffered during His Passion. He asked that an image of His Heart be venerated and worn over a person’s heart, promising to “imprint His love on their hearts and destroy all unruly inclinations.”

During the last of the four Sacred Heart revelations, Jesus made known to St. Margaret Mary His requests for devotion to His Sacred Heart and His promises to those that followed it. He charged her with the mission of making this devotion known throughout the world. Keep reading to find out more about the requests and the promises of Jesus!

Because of the visions and revelations of St. Margaret Mary, devotion to the Sacred Heart slowly began to spread from convents and monasteries to the faithful public. It began with images of the Heart, and then with little devotional booklets, which met with considerable success and soon spread to areas outside of France. But so far the devotion was on a private, individual level. For it to be raised to the level of public devotion, it would need the approval of the Pope.

As is usually the case when the Church approves a new revelation or devotion, this was very slow in coming. But public celebrations were allowed on a diocesan level with the permission of the Bishop. On Feb. 4, 1689, on the First Friday of the month, the first Roman Catholic Mass in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus was celebrated in France. It took place in the chapel of the Convent of the Visitation in the presence of only the Community. The first public celebration of Mass in honor of the Heart took place that same year on the Feast of the Sacred Heart, 19 days after Pentecost, in the Church of the Visitation.

After this, spread of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus gradually grew. Progress was slow, however, until 1720, thirty years after Margaret Mary’s death, when an outbreak of bubonic plague swept through the city of Marseilles, France, killing 40,000 people. On Nov. 2 of that year, the prelate of Marseilles, Msgr. de Belsunce, solemnly consecrated his diocese to the Heart of Jesus. From that day on, the plague disappeared from Marseilles. Other cities followed the Monsignor’s example, and soon the whole south of France proclaimed devotion to the Sacred Heart. It gradually spread from France throughout the Mediterranean countries. But still Rome had not given its final approval.

Then, on Jan. 25, 1765, Pope Clement XIII officially approved the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in all the dioceses of France, for Poland, and the Archconfraternity of the Sacred Heart in Rome. In 1856, Pope Pius IX established the feast for the whole Church. A Portuguese nun named Sister Mary of the Divine Heart received visions from 1863-1899, requesting that the whole world be consecrated to the Sacred Heart. This was done by Pope Leo XIII in 1899.

The first church dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus was in the United States, in the little Pennsylvania town of Conewago, not far from Gettysburg. The year 1787 is cut into a stone near the roof, just above a slab of marble bearing a Heart encircled with a crown of thorns and surmounted by a cross.

The Sacré-Cœur (Sacred Heart) Basilica in Paris, France, was built in response to the violence and war in France over the previous century. The church is located on the Montmartre hill, where the first Christians of Paris were martyred in the 3rd century. The site is also traditionally associated with the martyrdom of Saint Denis, the patron saint of Paris. Construction of the Basilica began in 1875 and ended in 1914, after delays due to World War I. It was formally consecrated in 1919, after the War. The basilica has maintained a perpetual adoration of the Holy Eucharist since 1885, and attracts pilgrims from all over the world. 

Sacred Heart of Jesus

WHAT IS THE DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS?

The Sacred Heart devotion focuses on the physical heart of Jesus as representing his Divine love for humanity. On June 16, 1675, during the last of the four Sacred Heart revelations, Jesus showed His Heart to St. Margaret Mary, saying “Behold the Heart that has so loved men…Instead of gratitude, I receive from most only ingratitude.” He made known to her the following requests for devotion to His Sacred Heart:

  1. Reception of Holy Communion on the First Fridays: Jesus asked for the faithful to receive Holy Communion on the first Friday of each month for nine consecutive months, a practice intended to honor His Sacred Heart and to promote a deeper communion with Him.
  2. The Holy Hour: Jesus requested the observance of a “Holy Hour” of prayer to provide an opportunity for the faithful to spend time in adoration and reparation to His Sacred Heart.
  3. Consecration to the Sacred Heart: Jesus called for the faithful to consecrate themselves to His Sacred Heart, an act of dedication and acknowledgment of His sovereignty and love.
  4. The Celebration of the Feast of the Sacred Heart: Jesus desired the establishment of a feast day in honor of His Sacred Heart, 19 days after Pentecost, on a Friday, as a liturgical expression of devotion and love towards His Heart.
  5. The Exposition and Veneration of an Image of the Sacred Heart: Jesus requested that an image of His Sacred Heart be publicly exposed and venerated, promising blessings to those who honor the image, thereby fostering a visual reminder of His love and presence.
  6. Acts of Reparation for the indifference and ingratitude shown towards His love, encouraging the faithful to express sorrow and atonement for their own sins and those of others.
  7. Spreading the Devotion: Jesus asked St. Margaret Mary to spread devotion to His Sacred Heart, promising that it would be a source of grace and blessing for those who embraced it, aiming to rekindle love and faith in the hearts of believers.

THE 12 PROMISES OF JESUS

To those who practice devotion to His Sacred Heart, as revealed to St. Margaret Mary, Jesus made the following 12 promises:

  1. I will give them all the graces necessary in their state of life.
  2. I will establish peace in their homes. 
  3. I will comfort them in all their afflictions.
  4. I will be their secure refuge during life, and above all, in death.
  5. I will bestow abundant blessings upon all their undertakings.
  6. Sinners will find in My Heart the source and infinite ocean of mercy.
  7. Lukewarm souls shall become fervent.
  8. Fervent souls shall quickly mount to high perfection.
  9. I will bless every place in which an image of My Heart is exposed
    and honored.
  10. I will give to priests the gift of touching the most hardened hearts.
  11.    Those who shall promote this devotion shall have their names written in My              Heart.
  12.   I promise you in the excessive mercy of My Heart that My all-powerful love will grant to all those who receive Holy Communion on the First Fridays for nine consecutive months, the grace of final perseverance; they shall not die in My disgrace, nor without receiving their sacraments. My divine Heart shall be their safe refuge in this last moment.

For more about the life of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, be sure to check out my upcoming post, “St. Margaret Mary, Sacred Heart Visionary.” Subscribe so you won’t miss any of my upcoming posts!

A SHORT ACT OF CONSECRATION TO THE SACRED HEART

Sacred Heart of Jesus, filled with infinite love, broken by my ingratitude, pierced by my sins, yet loving me still, accept the consecration that I make to You, of all that I am and all that I have. Take every faculty of my soul and body, and draw me, day by day, nearer and nearer to Your Sacred Side, and there, as I can bear the lesson, teach me Your blessed ways. Amen.

Sacred Heart of Jesus & St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

May 19, 2024

Getting Life Direction from the Holy Spirit

the-traveler-with-quote

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Do you sometimes feel lost and confused about what direction to take in your life? Some years ago, I was facing a lot of changes and adjustments, as well as new opportunities and possibilities, including a new job. Naturally, I was feeling excited yet stressed, encouraged yet confused. I was praying about all of it, of course. Several years prior, I had discovered Cardinal Mercier’s prayer to the Holy Spirit, which I talk about in my video, “Inviting the Holy Spirit into Your Life.”  If you haven’t seen it, I encourage you to watch it after you have finished this video. Watching my video to the end tremendously helps my channel with YouTube’s algorithm.

Cardinal Mercier

Anyway, I said Cardinal Mercier’s prayer every morning, adding at the end of it another little prayer based on Psalm 25:4-5: “Show me the path where I should go, O Lord; teach me the right road to walk. Lead me in Your truth and teach me Your ways, for You are God my Savior, and my hope is in You all day long.”

Despite all the prayer, I still felt somewhat overwhelmed. So I asked the Holy Spirit for a sign to help me know what direction to take with some of my goals.  One night, I had the following dream, which I titled “The Unknown Road.”

countryroadwithhills

As the dream begins, I am driving my car along a beautiful but unfamiliar country road. I am alone, with no particular destination in mind – just going for a ride on a beautiful summer day. I am driving carefully, especially at intersections, although there is little traffic in that rural area. The scenery is gorgeous, with gentle, rolling green hills in the distance, and the sky is a lovely blue with some puffy cumulus clouds. But then I notice some wisps of black in the sky and become frightened, thinking a storm is approaching. Then I see some men fixing the road up ahead and realize that it had not been black clouds that I had seen, but smoke rising from a machine that is mixing hot asphalt.

The road then ends at a “T”-type intersection. I don’t know whether to turn left or right. I pull over to the side, stop the car and get out, looking for a street or destination sign, but see none. The scenery here is breathtaking, because up ahead I see beautiful mountains and an enormous cathedral, bigger than any building I’ve ever seen, with the ornate, beautiful architecture common in old cathedrals. As I scan the panorama, I’m dismayed to see some ugly industrial buildings to the right and left in the distance. I think what a shame it is that they’re spoiling the beautiful landscape. The sight of them lends an eerie, desolate aspect to the scenery, giving me a creepy feeling. I wonder if I should ask someone where I am, so that I can figure out how to get back home. At first I resist, because I really had wanted to figure it out for myself, but with no signs to guide me, it doesn’t seem possible.

As the dream ends, I realize that I’ll have to ask someone for directions.

When I awoke, I realized how perfectly symbolic this dream was of my current situation. Roads, of course, symbolize the path we are taking in life. The road I was on, though beautiful, was rather narrow, which brought to mind “the narrow way” mentioned in the Gospels, and it was long and winding, showing that I still have far to go. The black clouds that I saw, which turned out to be harmless smoke from a truck doing street repairs, seemed to mean that some of my fears were groundless, and that my attempts to “repair” the things that are wrong in my life might be scary and upsetting sometimes, but necessary.

The T-intersection symbolized the fact that I can’t travel in the same direction forever; eventually I will come to a crossroads and have to make a decision and choose a new direction. I believed that the great cathedral in the distance represented my spiritual aspirations, and its huge size showed that it was an extremely important aspect of my life. The industrial buildings felt “creepy” and also made me angry with the way they ruined the beautiful landscape. Since industry is another word for work, I felt that they symbolized my fear of being overwhelmed with mundane work to the point where I’d be unable to fulfill my higher ambitions and spiritual goals.

The dream was inconclusive, because it ended with my still being at the crossroads. To get more insight into this dream and what it might be trying to tell me, I put my mind into a passive, receptive state and used my personal method to connect with Divine guidance. I received the following message about my dream, which I believe was inspired by the Holy Spirit:

“Become as a traveler who is not totally sure of the way, so he asks Someone who knows the area well to guide him. From the traveler’s viewpoint, sometimes the road will be deceptive. He might think one direction will lead him where he wants to go, only to find that it winds around and around, and he ends up back where he started. The wise traveler will admit his ignorance of the way and seek help. He will follow the direction of a knowledgeable person, even though sometimes the road that is pointed out seems like it could not possibly be the right one. The shortest path is sometimes the wrong one, and the experienced guide will know this, but the traveler, who is unfamiliar with the territory, will not.

“If sometimes the road ahead looks deceptively easy and you are fooled into thinking it is the right one, you might get lost. But if you seek the help of God, Who knows the way, you will never go wrong. You still might have to travel a great distance, go over many obstacles and follow a very tortuous road, but in the end you will reach your goal.

“The traveler who goes nowhere is the one who is too proud to ask directions, who goes his own way no matter what the circumstances. Do not be like this traveler, but like the one who is humble enough to know when he needs guidance.

“Ignore those who will tell you that sometimes you must hurt others to get ahead. If you aspire to this sort of success, you are on the wrong path. ‘Getting ahead’ this way is only a euphemism for selfishly grasping at things that are only temporary. This will give you nothing but grief. You will ponder what you achieved and find it empty. Honor first what God has asked of you — to use your gifts and talents for the benefit of others and to glorify God. If you do this, you will achieve your goals, find true contentment, and overcome the obstacles which hinder your growth. This will give you a freedom that no earthly success can ever give. Do not heed the discordant voices that try to lead you astray. They are only empty noise in a space that is devoid of any true peace or happiness.”

I have shared this dream and message to encourage you, if you are feeling lost and confused about what direction to take in your own life. After you consider all the known choices you can make and paths you can take, surrender it to God. Ask to be shown the way, through your own inner guidance. Do not depend only on your intellect; leave room for your intuition and inner knowing. Open your mind to possibilities and opportunities you may have not considered yet, and try not to cling stubbornly to ideas that clearly are not working out and need to be revised or discarded.

It’s funny how we usually trust a GPS system to tell us how to get to a destination. If we make a wrong turn and find ourselves being corrected by the GPS, would we sit in our car and argue with it, insisting that the road we took, which is clearly in the opposite direction, is the right one and that the GPS is wrong? No, most of the time we will follow the GPS directions without question. Yet, when our inner guidance, directed by Higher Power, is emphatically showing us that we need to take a detour, we question and resist it. A GPS system can sometimes be wrong; but God is never wrong. So, let’s give God at least as much trust as we put into our modern-day, man-made technology!

Here are some Scripture verses about God’s guidance. I hope they will inspire you in your own life’s journey:

  • “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” ~ Proverbs 3:5-6
  • “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye.” ~ Psalm 32:8
  • “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” ~ James 1:5
  • “Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it,’ whenever you turn to the right hand or whenever you turn to the left.” ~ Isaiah 30:21
  • “Your word is a lamp to my feet And a light to my path.” ~ Psalm 119:105
  • And finally, take comfort in the promise of Isaiah 42:16: “I will bring the blind by a way they did not know; I will lead them in paths they have not known. I will make darkness light before them, And crooked places straight. These things I will do for them, And not forsake them.”
April 8, 2024

HOUR OF GREAT MERCY

Jesus Divine Mercy image

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Dedicated to the memory of my mother, Anna, for Divine Mercy Sunday. (Divine Mercy Sunday is celebrated by the Roman Catholic Church on the first Sunday after Easter)

“At three o’clock, implore My mercy, especially for sinners,“ Jesus told St. Maria Faustina Kowalska in a vision. “This is the hour of great mercy….In this hour I will refuse nothing to the soul that makes a request of Me in virtue of My Passion….In this hour you can obtain everything for yourself and for others for the asking; it was the hour of grace for the whole world — mercy triumphed over justice.”

At 3:00 p.m. daily, all those gathered in the perpetual adoration chapel of my parish fulfill Our Lord’s request by reciting the Chaplet of Divine Mercy for the sick and dying, often called “the 3 o’clock prayer.”  For Catholics, who believe in the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, perpetual adoration is the practice of prayer and worship in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament (consecrated Host), which is usually exposed in a golden receptacle called a monstrance. It is called “perpetual” adoration because there is at least one person voluntarily committed to each hour of the day without intermission. This practice has been carried out by monks and nuns since early Christian times, and eventually spread to lay Catholics in parishes that have a perpetual adoration chapel. 

For many months, my mother and I had been keeping a Holy Hour together once a week from 2:00 – 3:00 p.m. We cherished this weekly vigil, sitting and praying quietly side-by-side in the peaceful atmosphere of the chapel. Since both of us had read Divine Mercy in My Soul (The Diary of St. Faustina), and often prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet, we gladly stayed the extra ten minutes to recite it for the sick and dying at 3:00 p.m.

Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska
Photo of St. Maria Faustina Kowalska

One terrible afternoon in January 2002 found my mother and me together in a different type of vigil. But this time, the harsh sterility and bustling activity of the hospital’s Surgical Trauma Unit replaced the soft light and peaceful hush of the chapel. Although my mother and I were physically only a foot or two apart, the gulf between us seemed to me unfathomable.

Mom lay motionless and unconscious in a hospital bed, surrounded by tubes and a complex array of blinking, beeping machines. She was dying of complications following emergency surgery to repair a ruptured abdominal aortal aneurysm. Amazingly, she had survived the four-hour operation, but the massive amounts of blood she had lost made it impossible to stabilize her. I sat at her bedside, my eyes glued to readouts on the machine that monitored her heartbeat and blood pressure. The rosary clutched in my hand was my only weapon against the icy grip of fear and despair that grew tighter as it became increasingly clearer to me that all the heroic efforts of the medical team were not going to save my beloved mother. With each agonizing minute, my prayers were changing gradually from a hopeful plea for healing to the prayer of Gethsemane: “Not my will, but Yours be done.”

My mother and I had always shared a deep spiritual bond and had often discussed the afterlife. Neither of us feared death itself, but we had the natural apprehension about what form it would take and the suffering that might precede it. I knew that my mother was spiritually ready to face God, and since she already had been given Last Rites, the one remaining gift I could give this woman who had given me so much was to let her go.

“It’s alright, Mom, ” I told her silently. “If it’s your time to go Home, you go ahead and don’t worry. I won’t hold you back — I want you to be happy.”

My mother died at 3:20 that afternoon. Although I was too overcome with grief to think about it at the time, I later realized that she had passed into eternity during the Hour of Great Mercy, just minutes after the adorers at my parish’s chapel would have finished praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy for the sick and dying. The same prayers my mother and I had recited so many times for other souls in need had come back to us, easing my mother’s transition into the next life and giving me the strength to accept and bear the greatest loss of my life. Furthermore, I was grateful that my mother had been spared the painful and lingering death she had always feared.

For several years afterward, I still kept my weekly hour in the chapel, although the first few times there without my mother were so painful I couldn’t even bear to sit in the same place I used to sit with her. But now, every time I say the Divine Mercy Chaplet at 3:00 p.m. for the sick and dying, it is much more meaningful to me than it was before her death.

Now when I pray, I see images in my mind of families gathered around sickbeds, keeping vigil with a loved one they can’t bear to lose but know they must let go; of souls closing their eyes to darkness and opening them to a Light so brilliant their sufferings fall away like dying leaves. I see people whose time on earth is not yet through, gaining strength of body and mind through the healing energy of a stranger’s prayers.

With a certainty that surpasses understanding, I know that all souls are connected in ways more profound and mysterious than we can ever imagine. I feel reassured that each one of us praying the Chaplet will be blessed with the same sustaining light of God for which we are offering ourselves as channels today.

I sense my mother’s presence with me and I recall Our Lord’s words to St. Faustina: “Encourage souls to say the Chaplet which I have given to you….Whoever will recite it will receive great mercy at the hour of death….When they say this chaplet in the presence of the dying, I will stand between My Father and the dying person, not as the Just Judge but as the Merciful Savior….”

As the Chaplet ends, I silently add St. Faustina’s prayer of praise: “Divine Mercy, embracing us especially at the hour of death, I trust in You.”

(For more information on Divine Mercy, visit: http://www.thedivinemercy.org/message/devotions/chaplet.php)

Studio portrait photo of my mother, Anna
My beautiful mother, Anna
March 27, 2024

YOUR IDEAL LIFE BLUEPRINT

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In a previous post, “Your Ideal Life,” the first in this series, we discussed how to identify what would constitute Your Ideal Life and make a list of all the factors involved: where you would live, what job or career you would have, who you would want with you, what you’d like to achieve, and so on.  In the second post of the series, “The Power of Visual Imagery,” you learned how to make a visual image of all your goals, such as a Vision Board or Ideal Life Scrapbook. You began meditating upon your goals every day. If you missed these previous blog posts, please check them out. 

Now comes the all-important next step: to develop an Ideal Life Blueprint, which will be your plan to actually begin to make that Ideal Life a reality.

Laptop computer with planner, blueprint, coffee cup and notebook
Photo by: pexels-mikhail-nilov

To create the blueprint, you can use a special notebook or create a document on your computer. Many experts believe that writing things by hand actually is more effective in imprinting your ideas onto your subconscious mind, but do whatever works best for you.

To begin, use one section of your notebook or computer document for each aspect of Your Ideal Life. You’ll need to allow enough room to develop your blueprint for each goal. Another method, if you don’t mind your blueprint being on display and you have enough wall space, is to get a large bulletin board or whiteboard and divide it into sections for each of your goals, upon which you will pin or write each step in your blueprint. This last method has the advantage of being frequently in sight, which will keep your goals top-of-mind. If you have a Vision Board, hang your blueprint board alongside it, if possible.

The easiest way to create your blueprint is to start with the fulfillment of each goal and figure out what you might do to get there by following these steps:

Step 1. Ask yourself such questions as “what,” “where,” “when” and “why.” Bear in mind that the “how” isn’t always possible to know, especially at the beginning. To keep asking howsomething that seems unattainable right now could possibly happen can become a major stumbling block in believing that it’s possible at all. The “how” is usually God’s department. Your job is to have a clear understanding of what your goals are, and what you need to get there, by answering the other questions to the best of your ability.

Here’s an example: Supposing one of your goals is to buy a house one day. It’s helpful to figure out where you might want to live, and what kind of a house. Then ask yourself when would be a reasonable timeline in which to buy the house. For motivation, ask yourself “why” you want to own a house. Your answers might be, “It’s a good investment,” “It will give me enough room to raise a family,” “I want to live in a better neighborhood,” etc. Be honest with yourself as to whether your reasons resonate with you on a deep level, or whether they are superficial. For instance, “Because it’s expected of me,” or “Because all my friends own homes,” or “Because I want to brag that I live in that area” are shallow reasons that will make believing in your goal much more difficult. This probably won’t bring the happiness and fulfillment you might expect, especially if deep-down you know that you don’t really want the expense and work of upkeeping a big house and yard, and would prefer an apartment or condo.

Step 2. Now that you’ve answered the “what,” “where,” “when” and “why” questions to your satisfaction, the next step is to do your research. If the goal is a house in a particular neighborhood, begin to research the area you chose and the cost of homes similar to what you would like in that area.  Plan a visit to experience the area in person.

Beautiful house in suburbs with "For Sale" sign in front yard.
Photo by Pixabay

If your goal is a particular career, research what qualifications, skills or education you need. If your goal is to find a life partner, list the particular qualities you are seeking in a partner.

Step 3. Now that you’ve done your research, and have a better idea of the specifics of your goal, it’s time to figure out what you would need to get there from here. For instance, now you know how much that 4-bedroom home with the big yard in your chosen neighborhood would cost. Add in the other expenses such as real estate taxes, insurance, maintenance, etc., and you can figure out exactly how much money you would need for a down payment, and what sort of income would be required to pay the mortgage and maintain that home.

For your dream job, you’ll need to figure out how you might acquire the necessary skills or education you might not yet possess.

To find your life partner, perhaps you’ll want to explore what avenues might help lead to your meeting such a person.

 Step 4. Devise a short-term plan, listing practical steps you can take right now. To avoid becoming overwhelmed by how far you might have to go to reach your goal, set your plan to a manageable time-frame, such as one year.

Your list might read as follows:

  • For your dream home: Set up a budget, figuring out how you can cut costs or earn more money, and deciding how much you can reasonably put in the bank each month to save towards a down payment.
  • To find a life partner: Enlist the aid of friends who might be able to introduce you to someone. Explore reputable online dating services, groups, clubs or volunteer organizations that you might join in order to meet more people with similar interests to yours.
Man andn woman looking at menus in a restaurant
Photo by pexels-jep-gambardella

  • For your ideal career: Take some night or online college courses to begin acquiring the degree you might need. Or make time to develop the gift you have that you want to turn into a career, to bring it up to the level required.

After the year is up, re-evaluate your goals and your progress, and devise a new short-term plan for the coming year.

Step 5. Keep in mind that there may be many steps along the way to your Ideal Life. You might meet a lot of frogs before you find your Prince. You might have to put up with jobs you don’t love in order to acquire the experience and skills that will lead to your dream job. You  first may need to buy a smaller house in a less-than-ideal neighborhood, in order to acquire enough equity to one day sell it and move up to a better home.

Step 6. Leave room for the magic, the mystery, and the wonder! You may not be sure that your short-term goals will work, and you probably are not sure what will follow after that. Just realize that you do not have to know all that right now. That comes under the “how” heading, and remember, you’re putting that part of your plan in God’s hands! Your only job right now is to do the very best you can with what you have and your present ability. Sometimes, things may seem to be going in the exact opposite direction from what you want. This is where the trust comes in. You have to believe that, as long as you’re doing the best you can, there is a plan behind everything that happens. You might not understand it right away, but it will make sense later on. It’s like looking at the reverse side of a tapestry: all you see is a tangle of threads that don’t seem to make any sense. But when you turn it over and see the beautiful image on the other side, you understand how all those seemingly random threads all worked together to create the final product.

Step 7. Pray that God will lead you to the life that will make you the happiest and most fulfilled. By doing this, you can rest assured that you will be guided in the attainment of your true goals.  Remember that our goals evolve over time. You may change some of them, eliminate others because they no longer resonate with you, and add new ones. This is nothing to be ashamed of or get anxious about. It’s normal. You’re not a failure if you change your mind about a goal. It just means that, due to your development as a person, the things that were important to you a few years ago may no longer be as important now. New ambitions and dreams will have taken their place. It’s part of our journey here on earth, so just trust the inner guidance you’ve been praying for.

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

God puts aspirations and desires into our hearts and souls. Not everything we think we want is a genuine goal. By praying for guidance, eventually the false goals will fall away, and you will be redirected to the ones that will accomplish your life’s mission and bring you the greatest fulfillment.

Next Time: Should You Share Your Goals?

February 10, 2024

PRAYER FOR OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS

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Do you have a sick or missing pet, or just want to pray for our animal companions? This is the official prayer of The Pet Prayer Line, founded in 1999. It is one of the earliest internet prayer lines for animals, and is still in existence today.

The Pet Prayer Line prayer chain has hundreds of members from all over the world, who pray daily for all the animals (and people) on the weekly prayer list. There also is an Emergency Prayer Team that prays for urgent requests that occur between prayer lists.

The Pet Prayer Line is open to people of all denominations and faiths. Anyone can submit a prayer request; you do not have to be part of the prayer chain. St. Francis of Assisi is the patron saint of The Pet Prayer Line.

To submit a prayer request for a pet or person, or to join the prayer chain, visit: https://thepetprayerline.com . Please do not leave prayer requests in the comment section here.

Prayer for Our Animal Friends

Heavenly Father, the bond we share with our friends of other species is a wonderful and special gift from You. We now ask You to grant our special animal companions your Fatherly care and healing power to take away any suffering they have.

Give us, their human friends, new understanding of our responsibilities to these creatures of Yours. They trust in us as we trust in You. Our souls and theirs are on earth together to share friendship, affection, and caring.  

Hear our heartfelt prayers for these, Your ill or suffering animals. Fill them with Your healing Light and strength to overcome whatever physical weakness they have. Please bring safely home to those who love them any pets who are missing.

(Here mention the names of the animals needing prayer).

Your goodness is turned upon every living thing; Your grace flows to all Your creatures, touching each of us with the reflection of Your love. Grant our special animal companions long and healthy lives. Bless our relationships with them, and if You see fit to take them from us, help us to understand that they are not gone from us, but only drawing closer to You.

May good St. Francis of Assisi, who honored You through all Your creatures, watch over our animal friends until they are safely with You in eternity, where we hope to someday join them in honoring You forever. Amen.