Hidden Heart

The month of October has always been one of my favorite months. It brings cooler weather, vivid Fall colors, campfire smells, and something else that is difficult to put into words; until now. There was a year I learned it was pregnancy and infant loss month. She would have been 10 months. Just two months prior, she would have been 8 months, I watched my mom’s journey with breast cancer begin. 2010. That. Was. A. Year. 

 

Life seems to be a blur. We are in such a busy season and I do not want to miss a moment. I think I will remember it forever, God willing. Our month of the rosary was behind us, but we could still see it in the rearview mirror. The month when we honor and mourn children who did their life’s work in the womb and were called home before their first breath. The month's awareness for breast cancer was shown in blush and bashful and every hue in between. It was what occurred in October and the days that followed I am left to question, “Why me?” I was there. I was brought down not on one knee, but two. It was who caused my knees to buckle, willingly, bowing in utter reverence. It was who brought me to Him. How did God know we needed him so much?  When we go to Adoration, we are to genuflect not one knee, but two- it’s the very same when we receive Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. It was the first reading of the 31^st Sunday in Ordinary Time (Malachi 1:14-2:8-10) I knew we should never stop praying. We must seek the Law of God, not the law of man. Jesus teaches us how to balance the two. He is very direct in the Gospel of John. The same command is repeated at least 84 times in the Bible. Saint Teresa of Jesus teaches us to focus on Christ, even when face to face with a demon. St. Teresa of Avila.

 

My heart had been broken an hour before, not for me but for her; a sister in Christ. She was surrounded by women in prayer.  It has become an all too often occurrence lately too many of us becoming mothers to saints. We got on our knees to pray, fast, and offer up any inconvenience. The second reading was from the first book of Thessalonians. “Brothers and sisters: We were gentle among you, as a nursing mother cares for her children….” I knew at that moment what was to come, and the cruelty of a mother left with a body to nourish an infant with no infant to nourish. I was taken back thirteen years. I saw the milk flow, the warm water from the showerhead only encouraged the flow of milk, and there was no land of honey in sight. It was in the swirling of my tears, her milk and water I asked Mary for her hand. I needed a mother's love. It was not overnight, but one night the showers became something I didn’t despise. I held onto Mary. I prayed to Jesus to give me the grace to see my child again; in her perfect body. Mary was my lifeline. I needed her to show me to her son. One day deep in prayer and meditation Mary took me to the foot of the cross. She showed me her son. She locked eyes with Jesus as he was about to speak his final words. It was the look that passed between mother and child. It was what was held in the look between the two. A thousand books were written though not a word was spoken. In that moment, I saw a mother fully surrender herself, literally in the wounds of her son. She showed me what true surrender was to Christ. As a mother, she silently suffered. She knew it had to be done, and out of love, she did not want to make it more difficult on her son. She stood stoic and brokenhearted. The cruelty of this world knows no bounds. She was there to witness all 5,4080 blows (Saint Bridget of Sweden) to his sacred body. The message was no matter what this world has to offer you, I will take you to my son. There is not a struggle in this world that he cannot heal, no question he can’t answer. All you must do is take my hand when your momma heart is shattered, and I will take you to the foot of the cross. I will take you to my son. He overcame his cross, with him you can overcome yours. There is nothing he can’t conquer. There is no sadness he can't heal. It was after that moment I knew I had to learn how to ask, how to seek, and how to shelter in His wounds. If Mary can continue to be a pillar of our church after that day in Golgotha, she can teach me to overcome my broken heart. Mary continues to show up. I ask her so many times a day to help me have a heart like hers. She helps me to find the grace I need to give myself. To find humor in the balancing act of life. I have the memory of a goldfish. I am so forgetfull  She did lose Jesus. Though, he was not truly lost Mother Mary thought she lost the Son of God. We went to Calvary on Friday, November 3 to celebrate Mass and pray for the dead. Mass was held at the bottom of the hill where the babies are buried. Mary was there as the Eucharist was consecrated. Her mantel was over Father and all of us who were there to celebrate.  She cradled her infant son, as some of us have asked her to do with ours. She was present. You could feel her. It was the way the wind picked up. It was the way the sun filtered in the tree. We do not need to see the Holy Spirit to know the workings. We do not need to see Jesus in the Eucharist to know he is there. We do not need to see Mary to know she can take us to her son. But what a month that would be.

 I learned this week another way to pray the rosary. When we bring our sorrows to prayer in the rosary we can ask the saints to pray with us. If we know who has asked for prayers specifically for their pregnancy. We can ask Saint Gerard Majella, Saint Anne, Saint Anthony of Padua, and Saint Gianna to pray with us and ask for their intercessions. You can even ask all the saints in heaven to pray with you. I mean, go big or go...ask the saints to show you the way home. Nothing brings them greater joy. Seeking a charitable heart in our fallen world is not for the weak. Charity from heaven is far greater than charity on earth.