My mom and I went to our local Catholic bookstore on Monday, and found out about a healing Mass that was going to take place this Friday at St. Luke's Catholic Church in Indianapolis at 7 pm. We were interested, but bummed that we wouldn't be able to go. Then, yesterday, Emma's godmother, and one of my best friends told us about the same healing Mass that would be held today at a different parish at 9:30 am. We were excited to go, even though none of us really knew what to expect.
My mom, Emma, and I went to this healing Mass that we thought would be about an hour long. We met a few people from our old parish there, along with Emma's godmother and her young daughter. The rather large church was about half-full. Mostly it was people who had brought sick loved ones for physical healing. Others looked fine, but who knows what emotional or spiritual state they were in.
Anyway, the priest was a little late, because he had been praying outside a local abortion clinic with some teenage volunteers who were also there praying for credit in their pro-life class at school. Once he got there, he filled the air with love and praise to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We sang songs, he told stories, we had Mass, he told more stories, he taught us how to pray the chaplet of St. Michael the Archangel. We went outside, he prayed over, and gave his blessing over a new statue of St. Michael. The whole time, he kept talking about how we're all in this great spiritual battle, and how if you could look at the sky with spiritual eyes, you wouldn't be able to see the sun through all the evil spirits covering this city. He encouraged us all to pray for our city, and to make it the holiest city in the country, and that we rename our city of Indianapolis to Holyopolis. :-) How awesome is THAT goal?!
Anyway, at some point during the whole thing (I think it was after communion), Emma asked me if she could go sit with her godmother. I said sure, and they eventually ended up going back to her house to wait for us, as both of our kids were getting restless.
So, after the prayers outside over the statue, we all went back in, and a nun there kept insisting that only the truly needy would be seen, and that the rest needed to try to go to the Friday time. Father was apparently getting tired, and wouldn't be able to see everyone. I knew mom would qualify, and while I had hoped for a blessing too, I thought I would just mention my needs to him in passing, and ask him to pray for us later.
Well, when it got to be my mom's turn, she asked to be able to do a quick confession first, and then be anointed. He graciously listened to her confession, and when he motioned for me to come back, he said that my mom has this saint all around her, and that it's a pretty new saint named Louisa Piccaretta. He said he wasn't sure why this particular saint was so attached to my mom, but that they physically resemble each other. I had never heard of this saint before, but I had someone write it down, so we could learn more about her later. Well, the nun, another person, and myself all laid hands on my mom and prayed for her with the priest while she held a small cross with some kind of relic or something on it. Towards the end of the prayers, the priest handed me the cross to hold, but then when we were finished, he walked away, and I still had the cross.
I went to give it back to him, and told him that I had just had a miscarriage about 3 weeks ago, and my husband isn't Catholic, and asked him to pray for us. I started to tear up while telling him, and nothing could have prepared me for what came next. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced. He took me over to the tabernacle (where they keep the extra consecrated hosts - Jesus), and had me put my hand on the surface in front of the actual tabernacle while I told him everything he wanted to know. Were we married in the Church? No, I converted after we married. Am I allowed to recieve communion? As far as I know, yes. I always have. Had I named the baby? Yes, Charlotte Marie. What's my husband's name? Mark. He said he felt like my husband Mark had a connection to St. Mark the Evangelist. I said, yes, he had been named for the Gospel of Mark. This next part is where I completely lost it. I can't remember exactly when, but at some point before this next part, he had me touch, ever so gently, the edge of the tabernacle itself! I was barely able to speak through the tears when he told me that he thought our little Charlotte (who he said was smiling at me and waving to me from Heaven) was created for the sole purpose of being an intercessor for her daddy's conversion. Is that just so beautiful? He asked me to pray to St. Mark, Our Lady, St. Joseph, and I think he said St. Michael too for my husband's conversion. He also told me to get both myself (for physical and emotional healing) and my husband (for conversion) green scapulars. He also told me that a big part of what's holding my husband back from fully loving and embracing Our Lord is a deep, hidden fear about his self-image. He said if that fear were removed, he would convert. Then he prayed over me, while I held that cross, then had me hold it over my abdomen while he prayed some more, and finally, he anointed me with some kind of oil related to St. Philomena.
I can't explain how wonderful it all was, and how much it helped us. It was such a relief to know that little Charlotte lived and died for a reason, and how to best pray for my husband. It wasn't until I got to the car that I realized we had been there for 4 hours. Time flies when you're being blessed, I guess. It was just so wonderful! ♡♡♡
God Bless You!