I didn’t set my alarm for Mass the next morning, but God knows me, and I was awake in plenty of time for Mass. I decided that I would just stay in bed and rest, but the call was to get going. I took my shower, and I made it ten minutes before Mass started. Imagine my surprise to see The Black Madonna in the center of church. I realized that this was the reason for me to attend Mass. At the end of Mass, we had a goodbye ceremony for Our Lady. Then she was carried to the narthex of the church, where we were allowed to venerate her. The few of us who stayed were given the special privilege of being alone with our Mother. It. Was. Amazing! The graces poured out into us. Blessing upon blessing. Grace upon grace.
Went to the cemetery to put flowers on his grave, only to find that the flower pot was missing. Flowers are in the car until I can get a new flower pot. I wish I had known. I’m not sure when I’ll get back. It was Memorial Day last Monday, after all.
My soul is tied in knots this evening. I look forward to the Sacrament of Reconciliation on Saturday. Peace that can only cone from God pours into my soul as I am absolved of my sin. I am weak. Thank God for the sacrament of Confession.
As I progress on this spiritual journey, I find I am being drawn more into ministries that deal with the dying and those left behind after death. I have asked the Holy Spirit to "shake up my life," and He has not disappointed me.
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