St John Paul II Catholic Church

Nocatee, FL

assistant@nocateecatholic.com

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“Corralled and Captured into Confession”

A testimony.

He left the 99 to rescue me.

God many times uses our kids to wake us up to truth.  When my daughter was in third grade she woke me up to face an obstinate place in my heart. Pride, stubbornness and the need for Confession. Visualize how cattle are corralled into an enclosed area. Then they are held captive until the rancher guides them to a different location. I experienced being corralled and held captive so the Holy Spirit could speak to my heart. Out of the mouth of babes came an invitation. God personally used my young innocent daughter to invite me back to the sacrament of Confession. This is my story…

Like many young girls, my daughter faced, some all to common, damaging verbal abuse by classmates in 3rd grade.

Verbal abuse is destructive. The bullies were her classmates and also were on her traveling soccer team. So the abuse followed her in and out of school. Her wounds kept festering and my words brought no comfort or healing.

It progressed to the point where she started to demean herself and her grades were dropping. We finally came to a difficult but necessary decision to change schools on her mid-year. Needless to say, we all had a lot of forgiving to do.

For months I routinely prayed with her about the whole situation, and we constantly worked on forgiving those girls in our hearts. I had to work even harder on forgiving their moms who thought my daughter was the problem. Much effort with very little change in either of our hearts persisted.  After months of trying to heal these wounds on our own, I finally reached out for help.

A little about me…

I was raised in the 60’s with a culture of rebellion and it seeped into my mind and actions. My rebellion was centered mainly at the Catholic Church. Targeted areas were the sacraments, the rosary, etc.  My husband, kids and I were only Sunday Mass goers with no other participation in the church activities.  I felt the sacrament of Confession was unnecessary because I could tell God directly my sins. So I passed my philosophy down to my kids and after their first confession, it was their last. I wasn’t going to take them to something I didn’t believe was necessary.

During that time we had a new young priest who was touching the hearts of the entire parish. He spoke boldly and honestly. His words took many of us out of our comfort zone and made us look honestly at ourselves. Many hearts were opened and changed by his sermons and mine was one of them. My daughter and I needed to vent and find new words of wisdom to try to forgive. So I finally made the call and made an appointment with this priest. Little did I know that  God had something bigger He wanted me to experience.

After sharing all the detailed events of the bullying, the priest gave us excellent points on forgiving. Nevertheless, it did little to move my stubborn heart. Then came the first invitation. It was the week before Easter and he invited us to go to confession that night in a parish that was hosting it. Of course, I was embarrassed to say that my kids and I hadn’t gone to Confession for years. So I kept quiet. The Holy Spirit knew the invitation had to go deeper and more intimate. My daughter quickly said “Mommy can we go tonight to Confession?” I had been lovingly but directly corralled and captured to do what I did not want to do. Go back to the sacrament of Confession. The invitation pierced my stubborn prideful heart.

A few hours later, we were on our way to answer the invitation. I put on a good front while driving to church but I was angry about being roped into this uncomfortable situation. My confession was brief and far from complete. I hadn’t gone for over 20 years. I mainly asked for forgiveness for the many times I had put down the Catholic Church. The elderly priest gave his absolution and of course did not question the years of sins I did not confess.

When we were leaving the church the real-life changing event happened.

I was murmuring to God as we were going to car how I was watching the many who were going to confession and not one of them looked or acted repentant. Judging was something I practiced frequently so once again my dominant sin of pride took front and center. Well, that is when God stepped in and got my attention. I was about to experience Confession’s sacramental grace. He did not speak out loud to me but He wrote this on my heart, “you are not the judge, I am!” I heard it clearly and it pierced my prideful heart. Absolutely humbled I almost knelt on the concrete to repent.

This is what made the difference. Our Catholic sacraments carry a grace with them. That grace is powerful.

The sacrament of Confession had wiped out my sins. The sacramental grace that comes with it then shines and shows clearly anything that offends God. So God’s voice could go to the core of my heart. A spotlight was finally shown on my sin of judgement. Furthermore, the sin of pride repeatedly blinds us from the truth.  I had for years been judging everyone else, playing God. Through this confessional encounter I was humbled and finally put God back in the drivers seat.

Going back to Confession also brought about more revelations. My war I had waged with the Catholic Church was over. I saw clearly that cooperating with the sin of pride for years had blinded me from seeing how God wanted to use me in His church. Through this Confession a flame had been ignited in me to become very involved in my faith. I found out how important it is to examine anything that we resist or say no to repeatedly. Many times it is the very thing that God is calling us to.

Both my daughter and I moved on and were able to forgive those girls and their moms. And I started a new adventure and purpose in my Catholicism which has persisted. It was part of my calling from God. He used this most difficult situation and made excellence come from it. Romans 8:28

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“Rosary Rebel”

A testimony.
He left the 99 to rescue me

Many different cultures have bred rebellion, which is being in opposition to authority. Ultimately God’s authority.  I could have written the book on this in the 1960’s. Rebellion was a way of life for me. Other contributing factors were my strong German Catholic upbringing with my dominant sin of pride. The rebellion war I waged was mainly against the Catholic Church. Targeted areas were the Mass, sacraments, rules and regulations, and of course the rosary.

In my opinion the rosary was rote, repetitious and boring. My prideful self-told me that my spontaneous prayers were much more effective.  Much later I would learn that the reason the rosary is so powerful is because it comes from scripture. Praying God’s Word back to Him is powerful and precious. He blesses us for using the words He gave us.

25 years prior to my rosary conversion, my mom had died the year I got married. She was my hero. One memory I have of her is she seemed to always have a rosary in her hands. Yet never did she force us to pray it with her. Her actions did speak louder than words to me. It took years to learn because of my pride. Many things that we strongly resist in life are usually the most life changing. Evil fights hard in our lives when victories are forthcoming. My continued cooperation with the sin of pride blinded me from seeing truth. God’s Word is in the rosary and its protection and power are conversional. Her constant quiet rosaries were instrumental in bringing me back to my faith years after she died. I believe that once our prayers go up to God, they are in His time zone, not ours. He can use them for the person’s intentions well after they die. God saved some of those prayers for me by my mom, the day of my rosary conversion.  I believe that with all my heart.

State of affairs before my conversion.
My husband and I had adopted 3 babies and had moved multiple times across the country for his job.  Our lives were busy but uneventful until they grew older. Teenage years are challenging and wake us up as parents. The hormones, rebellion and extreme concern that evil doesn’t win in their lives is real and overwhelming at times. The years of love and formation can easily be snatched overnight. That is exactly what happened in our family. One of our kids got snatched! It was scary and sobering. God definitely became “front and center”.

God strategically placed in my life at that time very strong Catholic friends. One especially befriended me. After repeatedly asking for prayers for my lost
teenager, she strongly suggested that she bring over a holy picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Even though I was not into Mary at all, I did not want to lose her friendship, so I finally said yes. She brought over the portrait and placed it in a chair at my formal dining room table. I thought this is harmless, so I cooperated. As she was leaving, she said there was only one thing I needed to do. “Pray the rosary daily with my kids”.  I gasped. I hated the rosary, my kids did not know the rosary and they were teenagers! Nevertheless, when you are desperate for answers as I was, you will try anything. My love and concern for my kid was paramount over my rebellion.

To put a face on desperate, let me briefly explain. My son had quit high school mid-year as a senior.  My husband and I agreed on this decision due to choices he was making. Therefore, he was home with me daily. We both became most lost. That makes a mom desperate!

So, back to the rosary.
In extreme desperation for three consecutive nights my teenagers reluctantly gathered with me in the formal dining room. Rebellion took on a new form. Three out of control teenagers and one determined mom gathered in front of Our Lady of Guadalupe. We prayed for 3 nights the most disgusting and disrespectful rosaries! Every night after our fiasco, I prayed for forgiveness. God was also introducing to me His Divine Mercy.

Fourth morning.
My high school son and I were doing morning errands. Out of the blue he asked me if we could go to Mass and confession. My mouth dropped! I weekly forced myself to go to Sunday Masses but Confession was never a practice in our home. I stopped the car and couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth. This was a huge breakthrough in the making. Needless to say we both went to confession and Mass that day. God listened to His Mom’s prayers through our disrespectful rosaries. That is the only explanation to my son’s request. It ended up being a conversional experience for both of us. Confession was a critically important step to soften our hearts and give us both sacramental grace for change. That change was humility.  It worked.

This encounter with Our Lady’s intercessory power was profound.
She took three disgusting and disrespectful rosaries to our Lord and asked for a miracle in my son’s heart.
It was the beginning of many conversions through Our Lady’s intercession. I became a humble rosary fan and promoter of Our Lady of Guadalupe needless to say.

A critical point about scripture.
God’s Word is your ultimate prayer partner. Think about a time where you spoke some necessary truth in love to someone in your life. This could be to your kid, a good friend, a spouse. Then sometime later, possibly years, they express how important it was that you spoke truth in love to them. It absolutely warms our hearts, blesses us and shows us how truth sets us free. John 8:31-32.
The Our Father and Hail Mary come straight from scripture. Just like us, God is ultra-blessed when we speak His language back to Him. Also, He answers in His time, His way and how He knows what is best for us. Needless to say, that brings about a lifetime of working on trust in Him. He invites us daily into this
amazing adventure.

Another point. Do you ever get tired of being told “I love you”? Well, saying
“Hail Mary’s” over and over are like telling God and Mary you love Them.
Never does it get old to Them.
And repetition builds relationship.

My invitation to you…
Pray the rosary.
Start with a decade daily.
An added bonus is agreement in prayer with someone, Matthew 18:19.
Invite someone to pray with you.
Husbands and fathers are paramount, and God ordained leaders for this in marriages and families. Moms have special ways to get answers in difficult and stubborn areas. Teaming up with God’s Mom is the ultimate prayer partner. I invite you not to miss this opportunity and gift!

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“Addiction battle on Good Friday”

A testimony.
He left the 99 to rescue me.

Close to 30 years ago, I had an experience which led me to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. Even been a cradle Catholic, it was a life changing encounter with my Savior. My 12 years of Catholic schooling did very little to develop my relationship with Jesus. I thought I knew Him, but I was wrong. I had learned the textbook Jesus but not Him as a personal intimate Lord and Savior in my own life. Someone who would rescue, deliver, protect me from any harm. Someone who would risk it all for me. Someone who loved me more than I loved myself.  There is a huge difference in these two types of “Jesus’”!

I had a Christian friend who modeled for me a personal relationship with the Almighty. I worked night shift with her in Intensive Coronary Care for several years prior. She was in love with her Savior and it radiated to everyone. She trusted Him with everything. She did not preach Jesus but wore Him in all she did. It was most attractive. I desperately needed and wanted that.  Watching and listening to her, a desire was born by God in me to pursue that type of relationship with Him.

1992, years later.
The location: my home in Boston.
The day: Good Friday.
My age: approximately 45 years old.
I had developed a 2 pack/day cigarette addiction and had been convicted to quit. The conviction came from God’s Word, a Christian friend’s statement to me and my kindergarten son’s question to me about smoking. Also, I had failed repeatedly during that year’s Lent to quit on my own. The key word here is “I”.  When “me, myself and I” are in charge it is usually a dead-end road. It took me years to learn that. Pride blinds!

My background:
I had started smoking at age 16.
The temptation came from wanting to fit in and look cool for my boyfriend who of course, smoked. That led quickly to an overnight addiction and progressed to a 2 pack habit a day over a period of 30 years.

Two probing and haunting questions along with a scripture brought me to a climax, convicted me and converted my heart on that Good Friday.
God and I had a knock down battle before He won the war. He was only waiting for my surrender flag. He was waiting for me to ask for help.
His love and mercy run deep.
Let me share my testimony with you.

We had moved from Denver to Boston for my husband’s job. It was like moving to Mars having lived my whole life in the West. Most difficult, most stressful!
We had 3 adopted kids and they were all under the age of 10 at that time. Each one was a huge gift from heaven. One of my kids had a severe learning disability and hated any change. He laid every morning at my front door and cried in the fetal position because he had to go to a new school. It broke my heart and stressed me out even more daily.

We were in Boston for less than a year which made it very difficult to make any new friends. I felt ultra-alone. I believe now this was part of God’s plan.
Sometimes, God allows us to be stripped of all comfort and props so He can move in front and center.  I learned quickly to rely and talk to Him much more. I was in trouble daily with coping with all the changes and stresses of a huge move. Joyce Meyer coined the phrase “Go to the Throne instead of the phone”. That is exactly what God was trying to teach me. He wanted me to experience a personal, intimate relationship with Him. Authentic treasured relationships in any of our lives involve listening and trusting. The listening part was pretty much nonexistent on my part.  Also, trust, at times can involve a surrendering, asking for help and accepting it. That was the ultra-hard part for me. I was born, raised, and practiced my whole life being self-reliant.

Description of me
I was raised in the 1960’s.
The revolutionary counterculture oozed into my already prideful nature. Examples included being rebellious, resistant, stubborn, etc. I targeted much of negative energy at the Catholic Church. Rules and regulations, the Mass, sacraments, rosary were at the top of the list to rebel against. It mostly was a silent war. I complained to God about His church and how many things were wrong with it.  It is absolutely amazing how God listened and put up with me.

To add to this, I was born in the Midwest with a strong conservative German heritage. So, it followed that I was taught and groomed to be self-sufficient.  “I can do it all attitude” and “I don’t need any help” lifestyle. This attitude fed my already prideful thinking that I had the answers to most problems and situations. These were all sins of pride I would find out later.

Background family history.
The following are examples on how pride blinded the truth from me in my life.
I failed to see and accept the danger of cigarettes. My addiction to them progressively blinded me to going to them instead of to God. Cigarettes became my drug of choice for any need or problem. To put a spotlight on my blindness, the following all took place in our first 10 years of marriage.
My mom died at age 56 from cancer.
My sister died at age 30 from cancer.
I had cancer at age 30.
My husbands’ mom and dad died both of cancer.
Also, my last real job before becoming a stay-at-home mom was being a head nurse over an Intensive Coronary Care Unit. I sincerely never contemplated or connected my own smoking and its potential to hurt me. That is “Blindness” with a capital B!

One of the “wake up” questions to me about my addiction came from my kindergarten son. He came home from school one day and said, “My teacher says if you smoke, you die.” Then to my heart he spoke, “Then why are you smoking mommy? Do you want to die?”
His words convicted and crushed my heart. I was finally confronted and knew I need to quit. The truth finally went into my heart.

Along with my son’s question, there was a second question that haunted me.
Before we left Denver to move to Boston a Christian friend of ours pointedly confronted me. He said, “Maggie, I don’t think you know Jesus as your own personal intimate Lord and Savior?” I was outraged! Being a cradle Catholic, I got defensive. How could he say such a thing to my face? I kept my composure and said politely that he was mistaken. Nevertheless, it was unsettling because it was true. Most of us when we are confronted with the truth that we don’t want to hear, it hurts initially. Then anger usually erupts. It exposes places that are closed and hidden with sins of pride. That can become explosive inside.
I was glad to say goodnight and goodbye to that Christian friend. Nevertheless, he was right.

So, back to Boston. I was lost, searching, and seeking anything to help me with everything. I signed up for a course which introduced me to the Holy Spirit at our church. I was attracted to it because it had the word “spirit” in it.
I needed spirit. I absolutely had no idea it was about the Holy Spirit.

One of the critical jobs that the Holy Spirit has is to convict our hearts of truth. Scripture is the major avenue to do this in us all. And I loved scripture.
So one night at the study the priest discussed 1 Corinthians 6:19.
It nailed me! “Do you not know that your bodies are a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God?”
I had never thought of my body as a temple. A temple meant to me that it was holy, sacred, a place of worship.
Suddenly I could not reconcile blowing smoke in His temple.  And yet, I would drive home weekly from these meetings, and chain smoke all the whole way home. I was slowly being convicted. This scripture and the two “wake up” questions from my son and Christian friend kept me up many nights.

All through Lent I failed daily to slow down on smoking much less quiet, even though I made daily resolutions to do so. Nightly I would have a “beat up” session on myself. Very unhealthy. A key element in this story was I never asked for help with quitting. Especially to God. My prayers were more directed like “I am going to quit smoking for you, God”. It was all about me, myself and I and my efforts. Never humbling myself to ask for help.

Well, Holy Week came.
An absolute disaster.  I smoked more that week than ever. Good Friday arrived.
By my strong will I decided not to smoke that day, and I did not. I had finally been convicted that smoking was a sin in my life. I also knew that Jesus died on the cross that day for my sins. Not smoking that day, I quickly became the wicked witch of the East coast. My husband, kids, dog, etc. all got treated ultra-poor that day. I was exasperated by evening. I was trying to stay up till midnight so I could have a cigarette. I remember laying in my bed at 10pm and this is what I said to my most merciful God. “I am never going to try to quit again because I was so mean and unkind to my family. So, if You want me to quit, You are going to have to do it!” A very poor white flag of surrender, but it was real and heartfelt. I was like an alcoholic in the gutter finally asking for help. Thank God I then fell asleep and didn’t stay up till midnight. If the heavens could have opened up at that moment, I would have seen the biggest celebration ever for me. I gave finally God the reins and control of my habit.  A miracle would follow the next morning.

Holy Saturday morning
I woke up and did not go for my usual first thing in the morning, a cigarette. Hour after hour went on and I had no desire or urge to smoke. By evening I was speechless, mouth gaping and blown away that my addiction was become history. I was experiencing a total healing and could not take it in.

Now for the best part.
I discovered a personal intimate relationship with my Lord and Savior.
Again, I emphasize that I had a textbook relationship with Jesus before this experience.  I knew He died on the cross for my sins. I knew that when I prayed to Him, He many times answered my prayers. He was like someone you knew that could and would at times deliver but
there was no relationship.

What I mean is there was…
no dependence on,
no trust in as with a friend,
turning to for encouragement,
sharing honest feelings with,
going to when you needed to cry,
be generous with you for everything,
and having a real relationship with, etc.

Back to trust. It is a major component of any relationship. Why did I not have trust in Him? I never learned it because of my textbook Jesus view. I had relied on myself, handled everything myself, and worked hard at controlling everything.
In my experience, Jesus never saved or delivered me from anything on an earthly level. Why? Because I never let Him.
Pride blinded and kept me from even thinking of trusting Him to deliver or save me from anything in my daily life.

By Holy Saturday night I continued to have no desire to smoke. My smoking was history. He single handedly, overnight, delivered and saved me from a wretched addiction. I had surrendered what I couldn’t do.
Well, it was the beginning of a new romance.
I fell in love…
I believed and trusted in His power…
I was touched and blessed…
I was blown away at His love for me…
I knew my heart had been made new!

He became my Knight in shining armor sweeping me up from a dysfunctional god, smoking. I was humbled.
Jesus became my personal and intimate Lord and Savior! Since that Good Friday I realize daily how my prayers and small surrenders matter to Him.
He listens…
He responds…
He reveals…
He answers…
He patiently waits…
for me to get over myself, my ideas, my thoughts, my pride, etc.

Two more important points.

This encounter with my Savior melted away my rebellion with the Catholic Church. I had made the church my “god”
and it had disappointed me. The church is made up of people and we all disappoint. But Jesus never disappoints.

Also, my devoted Catholic mom had died on a Good Friday, 25 years prior to that day. I felt that one of my mom’s many rosaries, God used that day to rescue me from myself. Our prayers go up to God’s time zone and He can use them when and how He decides. Her prayers helped me to surrender my pride, ask for help and experience a Savior to heal and rescue me. I know that in my heart.
He truly left the 99 and rescued me!