Praying with Pio

Yesterday was the feast day of St Padre Pio. (offcially, St Pio of Petralcina)

I encourage ALL of you who read this blog to spend some time getting to know him. You can begin this journey through EWTN's Padre Pio pages, available at :

http://www.ewtn.com/padrepio/man/biography.htm

be sure to click the sidebar links to read about his priesthood and his mystic nature.

The Catholic Church honors this great saint, who lived a holy life, and so yesterday, Catholics everywhere celebrated his life and example and plead his intercession. Because I have had, especially since returning to the Church since he and Mary had a role in my return, a strong devotion to him, I already expected great things from the day.

I was not disappointed.

I had made an appointment with my priest for confession before daily mass, and thus we were able to hash out --through confession and some spiritual direction-- what had been going on. Padre Pio, incidentally, was an incredible confessor and had the gift of Word of Knowledge, which Catholics call "Reading souls." This forced people to make better and more accurate confessions, thus causing them to face their sins as they really were.

Father blessed me and gave me a really great penance, which allowed me to deepen my faith walk and to feel safe in the arms of my Lord. I could already feel the fog of fear lift last night as I prayed with Scott and Seth, but after confession, which was --as always-- amazing, I found myself so thankful that God was beginning to give me some answers. I am also drawing nearer to the Holy Spirit, from whom I had sort of walked away for a moment there, and facing myself as I am... which has always been hard for an idealistic little mediterranean like me. :P

He is speaking to me: To whom much has been given, much will be required. He will not give me anything I will not be able to handle. He is my rock, my refuge, my strong tower. Suffering is a gift He gives His greatest friends. These are my great consolations.

I felt the presence of the saints at mass so strongly-- particularly those saints who I'm sure are interceding for me before the throne. And I dont' think it was just me... After a while, I realized I wasn't the only person dissolved in tears from the proclamation of the Word right on through communion. Everyone seemed to be seeing the mass with spiritual eyes, with the eyes of their heart.

Afterwards, I was physically, mentally, and spiritually exhausted. I went to our weekly bookstudy determined to be a better listener and to be a better reciever. It was wonderful. Peaceful. Calming. I came home and was busy with the kids and didn't see the time go by. When I put them down, I decided it was time to rest myself. My body was begging for rest.

I must have been tired, because I woke up this morning with my daughter in my bed and I have no idea how she got there! It was a wonderful "momy moment," and so sweet to wake up next to her. We've got lots planned for today, so I'm going to have to get moving pretty soon.

Things at home have been much calmer since Monday.

I had two moments that really bothered me at the time, but I was later able to explain so I just shrugged them off as me being extra "aware." (It's hard NOT to be when you undergo something like this in your own house.)

The first, a big bag of chips from atop my refrigerator came crashing down seemingly on it's own while I was typing away on the computer, and flew across the room-- or at least it appeared that way when I went into the kitchen, dreading to see what the heck had made that noise. Upon some investigating, though, I figured out that there was a small puddle of water on the kitchen floor where my daughter had been "cooking," and so though the bag had fallen directly down on the floor, it could easily have slid in the water across the room, rather than having been thrown there. That comforted me greatly.

The second incident was another one of those ones that sort of stop you in your tracks, but ended up being easily explainable. I was brushing my hair and happened to look down out of the corner of my eye to see that the bottle of holy water I had slept by the bed with was in the trash in the bathroom, and I had NOT put it there! I admit, my heart stopped. But then I started thinking about how easy it would have been for one of the kids to do that, so I simply asked. My daughter readily told me she had done it. Of course.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and since then haven't had anything else to worry about--- it's funny how once you start to see things, you almost start to expect the worst. I think alot of paranormal investigators get caught up in that easily-- forgetting that there is often a very normal explanation. Of course, that's easy enough when you are dealing with some one ELSE's problem, but when it's your own, it's a bit different and more menacing.

One other thing I did notice, though, was that my dollar store statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and a cross which has the word "Peace" which I keep in my garden facing out towards the street are now facing in towards my house, having moved all the way around a tree seemingly on their own. I didn't move these, but it didn't cause the same sort of momentary paralysis in me when I discovered it. Rather, I felt profound peace--- that the angels and saints are all around me. Grace. That's what I felt when I saw that. It's a very different feeling than the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. I'll take grace and faith over fear any day of the week.

St Padre Pio, pray for us.