An account of my pilgrimage in October 2004, written several months later:
Amazingly, I first learned of Medjugorje less than three years ago. My friend Barb was sharing her conversion story: a lapsed Catholic, Barb had become involved in New Age and crystals. Someone had given Barb a book to read, and as she read it, she said that she knew that it was true. Barb came back to the church. The book was Medjugorje: The Message by Wayne Weible. I went out and bought the book the next day. After reading the book, I thought that Medjugorje was an example of what the whole world is supposed to be like. Now that I’ve been there, I am even more convinced that this is true. I also believe that the whole world not only can be like Medjugorje, but that some day it will be.
Very briefly, for those who haven’t heard of Medjugorje or don’t know what is happening there: in 1981, in the village of Medjugorje in Bosnia-Herzegovina, formerly Yugoslavia, the Blessed Virgin Mary began appearing to a group of children. Her message:
“I have come to tell you that God exists, and He loves you.”
I’m not going to go over the history of Medjugorje or what has been happening there since the apparitions began, because there are books and web sites that do this well. I will say that the people of this region were a people of strong faith, and they were persecuted and suffered because of it. Also, since the apparitions began, millions of people have gone to Medjugorje, and there have been many, many conversions and miraculous healings.
My pilgrimage really began back when I first learned of Medjugorje. I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe that the good God is in control; that He is continually calling us and guiding us and leading us; that He responds to each of us individually, always doing what is best for us depending on where we are at in our individual struggle of faith. He does this without ever interfering with our free will. How this is possible is beyond all human understanding, which is limited. So my meeting Barb was no accident – it was part of God’s design, part of Our Lady’s plan. I was called.
I knew I wanted to go after reading Wayne Weible’s book. At one point, I decided that I wasn’t going to go until I could take my family with me. But my wife Liane wasn’t feeling called, and the kids were really still too young. More and more lately, I had been feeling a sense of urgency in my heart, and when I learned that two friends from St. Timothy’s were going, I called that same day and paid my deposit.
There were many graces on my pilgrimage, but the first I received before ever leaving home. (In order to share this with you, I must tell you that my grandmother died about three-and-a-half years ago.) Four days before I was to leave, I was out running errands. I had been trying to decide how much money to take with me, and I finally decided on a figure. But I ran out of time that day and never made it to the bank. When I got home that evening, there was a letter from my Aunt Norma in Virginia. She wrote that she had finally settled my grandmother’s estate and sold her house. Aunt Norma said she was sending something to all the grandchildren. With the letter was a check for the exact amount I had planned on withdrawing from the bank that day!
The trip over was long and tiring. I met my friend Gary at his house at 5:00am to catch a ride to the airport. We knew that two other people from our parish were going as part of our group, but we didn’t know who. While standing in line, I recognized Karen who I had met on retreat once, and I met Sue, who I had seen at Mass but never met. I don’t remember anything about the four-hour flight to Washington.
Once we arrived at the Dulles airport, we quickly searched the monitors for our next flight and went straight to the terminal. There we met up with many others of our group who had already arrived. There would be a total of 34 of us: four of us from Arizona; California had the largest contingent with 12; Louisiana was a close second with 10; there was a couple from Washington, and individuals from New Hampshire, Massachusetts, South Dakota, Florida and Texas. A priest would be accompanying us on this trip: Father Ron, who works in the prison system in California.
The eight-hour overnight flight to Vienna was… uncomfortable. My friend Gary and I were seated next to each other. We are both big men with long legs and wide shoulders. My 2X-size body just didn’t fit into those small seats. It was very cramped. I did manage to get maybe three hours of sleep, but I was so grateful when our plane landed and I could stretch.
We had about a three-hour layover in Vienna. We prayed our first Rosary together as a group in the little airport chapel, and then Father Ron celebrated Mass. After that, we just hung out until it was time to board our next flight. I briefly browsed through the airport shops which really held no interest for me. I couldn’t sit in the dining area because everybody in Europe smokes! I was starting to feel pretty exhausted and decided to get a coffee, and found a seat as far from the smokers as possible. The flight from Vienna to Sarajevo was only one hour and 15 minutes, but I think I fell asleep as soon as I buckled my seatbelt.
The final leg of our journey was a three-hour bus ride to Medjugorje. We were introduced to our English-speaking guide, Miki. He led us in praying another Rosary and told us about the history of his country as we went along. I was charmed to see a flock of sheep in the grassy area of a cloverleaf near the airport. I was surprised that the mountains around Sarajevo looked very much like the area where I lived as a teenager in western Virginia. There was still plenty of evidence left from the war: rubble left from buildings and also many older buildings marked by bullet holes. But there was also plenty of new construction. Our glimpse of Sarajevo, with its modern, high rise buildings was quickly left behind and replaced by a rural landscape. I saw a simply dressed people tending sheep and gardens, chopping wood and building new houses and bridges. Most of the work was being done by hand.
I remember seeing only one billboard--a picture of an attractive, young woman in lingerie. I don’t know what it was supposed to be selling, but the message was universal -- the lies of the world: preoccupation with acquiring material things and wealth; preoccupation with personal image – looking young and attractive; preoccupation with entertainment and partying and promiscuous sex and having a good time; a philosophy of feeling good rather than being good and doing good; the spirit of relativism where one decides “what’s right for me” rather than the belief in universal truths and a sense of duty to one’s fellow human beings and obedience to God’s laws. The billboard was like one last reminder of the world we were leaving, and I was happy to be leaving it behind.
The mountains became steeper and higher, with rocky crags and escarpments on top. It was really quite beautiful. After a while, the mountains were lower again, and the terrain was very rocky. It was dark by the time we reached Medjugorje, and I really could not see much out the bus windows.
We arrived at our destination, the home of Mirjana, one of the visionaries. All the pilgrims in our group stayed in Mirjana’s home or in her brother Miro’s home next door. Mirjana had a large, multi-level house. However, Mirjana and her family live in a small apartment in the house; the rest of her home--a kitchen and dining room and bedrooms--are for the pilgrims. We unloaded our luggage from the bus, and Lynn made room assignments. Gary and I shared a room in Miro’s house. It was small, with a pair of twin beds, a wardrobe and a small private bath. The walls were bare except for a coat rack and a single crucifix. It was like what I had always imagined a cell in a monastery or convent must be like. I thought it was perfect.
After quickly storing our bags in our rooms, we all gathered in Mirjana’s basement dining room for our first meal together in Medjugorje. The food was simple but delicious, and there was always plenty to eat. The evening meals always started with soup, and there was always bread and wine on the table, and water (with and without gas). Mirjana helped to serve most of our meals. That first evening, someone commented that a visionary should not be serving us, and Mirjana spoke to us using our guide Miki as an interpreter (although Mirjana speaks very good English). Mirjana welcomed us to her home, and she said that we were all the same. She explained that we had all been called: she had been chosen as a visionary, and we had been called to come to Medjugorje and to take Our Lady’s messages back to the world. We pilgrims had left our homes and families and country and traveled a long way to answer this call, and so it was in no way inappropriate for Mirjana to be serving us.
I was given a truly incredible grace the very next morning. After breakfast, we set off for the English Mass at St. James Church. Some of our group took taxis, but the rest of us chose to walk through the fields. I came to love walking through the villages and vineyards.
As a group of us stood in front of the church before Mass, someone said they could see the Miracle of the Sun. The Miracle of the Sun is a phenomenon that occurs in Medjugorje where one can look directly into the sun without burning your eyes. The sun appears to dance in the sky; it spins and pulsates and shoots off colors. This of course is physically impossible, but countless people have seen it. I looked up, and I did see colors emanating from the sun. It was incredibly bright, however, and my eyes began to water profusely, so I looked away. The feeling this produced inside of me is difficult to describe. I sensed that my eyes had been healed, not that there has ever been anything wrong with my eyes--I have always had excellent vision. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but that is what I felt.
Then I looked out at the area in front of the church, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything was bathed in a reddish-gold light! There is a white marble statue of the Blessed Virgin in front of the church; only now the statue was a gold color! I looked around for other white objects to see if they were a different color, but all other white objects were still white. Everything was bathed in this light, but only the statue of Our Lady had changed color. I doubted what I was seeing. I thought that possibly I had damaged my eyes when I looked at the sun and blood was flooding my retinas in an inflammatory response, and that this was causing a visual disturbance, causing the reddish color. But that wouldn’t explain why only the statue of Our Lady had changed to a gold color. When I came back outside after Mass, everything looked normal again. I have seen the Miracle of the Sun numerous times since then, but have not since seen what I saw that morning.
I really did not understand the significance of my vision at the time. Weeks later, at home in Arizona, while reading and again during Mass one day, I recognized references to this scripture:
A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.
--Revelation 12: 1
Only now as I write these words has something else occurred to me. So often, unbelievers will say that they can believe only what they see. But how often do we doubt our own eyes? What will it take before we all fall down on our knees, and like St. Thomas the Apostle, we cry out, “My Lord and my God!”
We traveled by bus to the parish of Our Lady of the Assumption in the village of Siroki Brijeg. We learned that 30 priests had been executed there by the communists for refusing to renounce their Faith, and we saw the cave next to the church where the communists tossed the priest’s bodies and burned them. In the chapel, we prayed the rosary. Father Jozo Zovko spoke to us of the cross and of marriage and family. He spoke to us of a wonderful wedding ceremony involving the cross. He spoke of how the cross and the marriage are vitally connected, of how family and God are vitally connected. In Catholic Bosnia, there is no divorce – it is virtually non-existent!
Southwest of St. James Church is a large bronze statue, The Statue of the Risen Savior. On the ground lies a cross, and from the foot of the cross Jesus is rising up. On the loincloth, the Latin words Resurrexi et adhuc tecum sum alleluia Psalm 138 are repeated continuously, translated: I arose and am still with you Alleluia! I must admit, the first time I saw a picture of the statue, I did not think it was very attractive.
On June 25, 2001, the anniversary date of the first apparitions of Our Blessed Mother in Medjugorje, the Statue of the Risen Savior miraculously started weeping! Now I stood beside the statue and watched as drops of clear fluid formed on the side of the right knee and dripped down the leg. I collected a drop on my fingertip and rubbed it between my fingers. People reverently collected the tears with handkerchiefs or other cloths. The bronze statue was an oxidized dark gray-green color, but the area on the side of the knee where the tears formed and the leg below were bright, shiny bronze and golden.
In addition to the Mass in English every morning, we also attended the evening services in Croatian. So many people attend the evening prayers that the inside of St. James Church is packed. There are rows and rows of benches outside on both sides of the church, and the services are played over loudspeakers. Contrary to what one might expect, absolutely nothing is lost by participating in the prayers and Mass outside. In fact, I thought it was beautiful to be sitting outside under the stars feeling the cool breeze. At 5:00pm was the Rosary. It did not take long to be able to pray along in English. At 6:00pm was the Mass, and at 7:00pm was more prayer, either Adoration or Veneration of the Cross or another Rosary. Also, Marija is one of the visionaries who lives in Medjugorje and still has apparitions at 5:40pm every day. At this time the bells in St. James Church are rung, and everyone kneels and prays in silence.
One evening after we had been there a few days, I found myself alone during the evening prayers; I was sitting outside St. James on one of the benches. As we prayed the Rosary, I suddenly started to pray in my heart that when the time came for Marija’s apparition, that I would be able to feel Our Lady’s presence. I did not ask to see her or for her to speak to me, but only that I would be able to know that she was there and feel her presence in some way of her choosing. The whole time we were praying the Rosary, I was praying this in my heart.
When the bells rang at the time of the apparition, I fell to my knees. Just at this moment, a gust of wind hit my face and I felt my heart beating very rapidly. I thought to myself that I had not expected to feel my heart thumping in my chest, but that this could be explained away as just excitement. Then I was surrounded by the scent of roses! I opened my eyes and looked around me to see if perhaps a woman wearing rose perfume had come up next to me, but there was no one there. I was alone in front of the bench and there was no one on the bench behind me. I was completely engulfed in the beautiful smell of roses!
Most nights after the evening prayers, many of our group would meet at Colombo’s, a restaurant near St. James Church. We ate pizza or shared ice cream sundaes, and we sipped coffee or drank wine or delicious Croatian beer. We talked and we laughed and we shared our stories. This was a grace I had not anticipated on this trip – we were just plain having a good time!
One night after the evening prayer, I didn’t feel like going to Colombo’s, and so I found myself alone, walking toward the Statue of the Risen Savior. As I approached the statue, I saw that there were only a few other people there, a half-dozen at most. All was silence. The feeling after dark was very different than it had been during the day. I approached the statue, and again I watched the tears roll down the leg. I touched the shiny wet metal, and I made the sign of the cross. I sat with the other pilgrims there, and in silence we prayed to our God. I felt His presence. A light rain began to fall.
I walked back to Mirjana’s house, praying the Rosary. Lost in contemplation, I missed the turn for the path that cuts through the fields. I made an attempt to go back and find the path, but I was totally turned around. So I ended up walking the long way through the village. At one point, I saw a young couple sitting on a low stone wall up ahead. I thought to myself, “There’s a young couple in love.” As I approached, I saw the Rosary in their hands.
A little further up the street, I saw a group of people coming out of a building, and a little past that I could see a large group of people walking toward us. I heard an Italian accent as someone from the first group asked, “Where are you from?”
“We’ve just been on the Cross Mountain,” a large man in the second group answered. He seemed to be their leader.
“No, no.” the Italian responded. “Where is it you are from? Where do you live?”
“Africa.” The large man said. I heard excited voices as the two groups came together; individuals greeted each other warmly and the two groups merged into one. Strangers moments before, now they were brothers and sisters. I smiled and walked on.
Above Medjugorje is Krizevac (Cross Mountain). In 1934 the villagers built a large concrete cross on the top of the mountain. They carried all the materials up a steep, rocky path by hand to show their devotion to God. On Sunday morning, we climbed the mountain. Hundreds of people were climbing the mountain that day. There were old people and crippled people who needed the help of those younger and stronger to make it. Some climbed the steep, rocky path barefoot as an act of penance or sacrifice, and there was no shortage of those eager to help their brothers and sisters. We prayed every step of the way.
One evening after adoration, I was invited to go to the Statue of the Risen Savior with some other members of the group, and we had a very different experience that night. We looked in wonder as the fluid formed and rolled down the leg, and I boosted up some of the shorter women so they could collect the tears on handkerchiefs. A fairly large group of Italians arrived, and I watched one man taking his guitar out of its case. The man began to play and sing quietly. Others joined in, and something incredible happened. Everyone was singing to Jesus and praising Jesus. Some of the women began to come up and kiss the feet of the Risen Savior. I saw one tall, lanky man with soulful eyes drape his arms across the base of the statue. I thought that maybe he was being a bit dramatic and putting on a show, but perhaps he was truly moved to express himself this way. Who am I to judge? Now everyone was clapping and waving their arms and singing to Jesus. I saw one young man sitting with tears streaming down his face. I looked and saw two women from our group standing and praying, their hands opened to the heavens. I stood there taking it all in, and I was filled with joy.
An American woman not from our group whom we had met at Colombo’s arrived. She came up to me and touched my hand, and she looked at me as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. I smiled. After a while, I went over to the others in our group, and I exclaimed, “I’m so full of joy I’m going to explode!” We walked home through the fields, praying the Rosary. Gary was still awake when I got back to our room, and I joked that I had planned on waking him up. For a while, I laid in bed with an uncontrollable case of the giggles.
One afternoon, a group of us were walking through the fields on our way to evening prayers. We had spread out a bit as some were stopping to look at some of the hand-embroidered linens and other items the locals sold in makeshift stands along the path. I suddenly had a strong feeling inside that I should turn and look at the sun. I turned and looked, and there it was – the Miracle of the Sun. I saw what looked like a Host (a communion wafer) directly in front of the sun, creating an effect like a total eclipse of the sun. There was a fiery aura around the Host, and the sun appeared to be bouncing back and forth with colors all around. Everyone present in our group saw it, and the villagers there smiled and nodded their heads yes when asked if they saw it too.
At some point a day or two before we were to leave, I realized that our time in Medjugorje was passing quickly. In the accounts I’ve read of near death experiences, where people have died and been brought back to life, these people who have seen Jesus or Mary or angels almost always report that they didn’t want to come back. Often they pleaded not to come back. Now I understood. Medjugorje isn’t Heaven, but I think it’s the closest thing there is on earth. It’s still part of a fallen world – people still suffer and die. But the peace and joy I experienced there… Someone said being in Medjugorje was like being inside of a prayer. But I knew we would have to leave.
Another of the visionaries, Ivan, who now lives in Boston, happened to come to Medjugorje on personal business while we were there. Ivan still receives daily apparitions. On the afternoon of November 1st, we went to the “yellow building” behind St. James Church to hear Ivan speak. He said Our Lady has given us many messages over the past 23 years and that he would speak of the main messages. When Our Lady first appeared, she called herself the Queen of Peace. From the beginning, her message was, “Peace, peace, peace!” We must be at peace with God, peace with ourselves, peace with our families, and peace with each other. Our Lady’s message has been peace, conversion, prayer, hope and love. Ivan shared that being with Our Lady was like being in the Light of Heaven, and that every day for 23 years, it was hard for him to return and accept the reality of this earthly existence. He said that for him, as for all of us, the messages have been a call to conversion, which is a daily process – we all must decide every day for God. When he was finished speaking, Ivan announced that Our Lady had told him there would be an extraordinary apparition that night at the Blue Cross on Apparition Hill, the hill where the Blessed Virgin first appeared to the children.
That night I went outside and was walking in the street in front of Mirjana’s house, just kind of hanging out waiting for some of the others. I happened to look up and what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. The moon was incredible. The moon had a ring around it. Now, I had seen the moon with a ring around it before, but I’d never seen a moon like this before. Not only was there a ring around it, but there was a blue and purple aura. It was incredible! In the silence of that empty street, in the silence of my heart, I felt a peace that was truly supernatural. I felt the same Presence that I felt a few nights earlier at the Statue of the Risen Savior, the same Presence that I feel in a quiet church or adoration chapel.
We went to the Apparition Hill which was already crowded, and we climbed up the path in the dark. The only sounds were the whisperings of people talking quietly and of rocks clattering as people climbed and found a place among the sea of Italians and Irish and American and Croatian and brothers and sisters of many nations on the rocky hillside. I shined my light on the path and watched two men carry an old priest in a chair up the rocky slope. No one fell and no one broke an ankle in the dark on that incredibly rocky hillside.
After a while, we saw a small car drive up the bottom of the hill. Ivan had arrived. Soon the sound of murmuring was heard on the hillside, and the murmuring grew louder as we began to pray the Rosary in different languages. I listened intently to follow the rhythm. All was prayer.
A gust of wind hit my face. The crowd became quiet. The apparition had begun. The silence was broken by a crying or wailing sound from somewhere on the hillside above us. I stood on my tiptoes and strained to see what was causing this, but I could only see the crowd of my brothers and sisters. I closed my eyes and prayed. Suddenly, I was again surrounded by the smell of roses! This caught me quite by surprise as this time I had not prayed for a sign or even thought about it. I leaned in different directions toward some of the women around me to see if one of them was wearing perfume, but the beautiful odor was not coming from any of them. No one new had arrived. I was filled with gratitude and joy.
After the apparition, two of us waited by a stone wall as the people walked off the hillside. When the crowds had dispersed, we walked back up the hill and went to the Blue Cross. We began to pray the Rosary and found a seat on some rocks a short distance away. More people from our pilgrim group began to arrive and find seats and pray with us. I was amazed that more kept arriving until there were about a dozen of us. The next day was Election Day in America. Earlier, some of us had talked about spending the night on Krizevac, praying for our country and the election, but we had decided not to because we were to get an early start in the morning. I know that some prayed for a specific candidate (the same candidate that I voted for) but in my heart I prayed for the true pro life candidate to win, whoever that may be. I knew that God knew. I prayed for our country and I prayed for our world. I prayed for peace and I prayed for life.
Together we prayed on Apparition Hill. We prayed the most Holy Rosary. We prayed the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. We prayed the Memorarae and the Prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel. And then we sang: “Holy God we praise Thy name;” “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” It was truly beautiful and wonderful how we came together and prayed together on that hillside in the dark. It was grace.
November 2nd was the day of Mirjana’s monthly apparition. After an early breakfast, we went by bus to the Cenacolo community. We arrived before sunrise and were led into a large green tent. Miki showed us where to sit and cautioned us that if we got up to go to the bathroom we would lose our seats. It was many hours before Mirjana arrived and soon the tent was packed, and I could see many people crowded outside the open end of the tent. The hours waiting were not at all tedious; it was a wonderful time spent singing and praying!
Mirjana arrived and we began to pray the Rosary. I could not see Mirjana from where we were sitting, but when the praying stopped I knew Mirjana’s apparition had begun. We were in the presence of the Mother of God! I closed my eyes and prayed. Again I was given the grace to smell roses in Our Lady’s presence. God is good.
After the apparition, we stayed and listened to two young men from Cenacalo share how living in community had changed their lives. Then we again loaded onto busses and traveled to a nearby Franciscan Convent. It had been arranged for Father Ron to celebrate the Holy Mass in the chapel there. On the wall of the chapel there hung a crucifix that had been damaged during the war. The corpus had been broken. The Body of Christ had been broken.
The day came for us to leave. I couldn’t believe it. After breakfast, we were busy with last minute packing and loading our luggage onto the bus. We spent time posing for photographs with each other. As we loaded onto the bus, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I did not want to leave. As the bus pulled out of the village, I felt a tugging on my heart! Literally! It felt as if my heart were connected to this beautiful place, and as the bus rolled away, it felt as if my heart were being pulled from my chest!
Later, as our plane took off from the Sarajevo airport, I looked out the window, and there it was, the Miracle of the Sun.
EPILOGUE
On Krizevac, bronze art reliefs have been erected at the Stations of the Cross. I was particularly struck by the relief at the 15th Station of the Cross, the Resurrection. The artist has portrayed Jesus rising from the tomb in all His Glory. There are two guards in front of the tomb: one of the guards is overwhelmed by what he is witnessing, and the other is asleep, completely unaware of the miraculous event taking place right in front of him…
How many of us are sleeping, completely unaware of what is going on in the world around us? How many of us are so wrapped up in our own lives, in our own problems and pursuits and ambitions that we fail to see beyond the reach of our own little world? I judge no one, for I will be the first to admit that I am not everything I should be. But I look around me and I see a world that is not as it should be. I see a world where people lie and steal and kill each other. Men batter their wives, and parents abuse and neglect their children. We allow our children to play games that glorify violence, and then they bring guns to school and shoot each other and their teachers. Alcohol and drug abuse and sexual immorality are rampant. Parents kill their own unborn children!
What about those of us that society would call “good people”? Do we love each other as Jesus loved us? Are we laying down our lives for others? Let us examine our priorities. We live in a society that values personal fulfillment and success, achievement and creating wealth, beautiful bodies and entertainment and easy living. Is it right to want to build personal wealth when much of the world lives in poverty? We desire more luxurious homes and fancier cars while children in the world are starving. Our closets are overflowing with fancy wardrobes while there are people living in the streets. We spend small fortunes on our personal entertainment while our brothers and sisters in other countries are dying because they can’t afford basic medical care. Are we our brother’s keepers? Yes! Yes we are. And we are failing miserably.
Our society tells us these things of the world are important – wealth, personal acclaim, entertainment and physical beauty. These are the lies of the world. No matter how large a fortune one builds, it can be lost in a day. And you can’t take it with you. We place so much importance on personal achievement and what others think of us. All this effort and worry on being thought of as successful and important by others would be better spent giving of ourselves and caring for others. We should be more concerned about what the angels and saints and our Father in Heaven thinks of us. We put so much money and effort into looking young and attractive. No matter how much liposuction and cosmetic surgery or how many botox injections, we are going to get old. The time and money could be spent feeding the hungry and caring for the sick. A beautiful body? I would rather have a beautiful soul. All these things of the world are temporary, but our soul goes on to eternity.
I look around me and I see a world that is not supposed to be this way. I see a fallen world. I see a cross hanging on a wall, and the Body of Christ is broken. I see a world that needs God.
The Christian people in Bosnia-Herzegovina sing a song. Translated:
Our Lady, My Mother, Queen of Peace.
She’s my Mother. She’s your Mother.
When Jesus was hanging on the cross, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” And Jesus said to His disciple, “Behold, your mother.” Jesus was giving His mother, not only to his disciple, but to us all. He was giving His mother to the world.
The Blessed Virgin Mary was chosen to be the Mother of God. She was chosen to bring Jesus into the world. And Jesus honors His Mother by continuing to send her to the world. The Blessed Virgin continues to bring us to Jesus.
Every day for the past 23 years, Mary the Mother of God has been appearing in our world! Mary the Mother of God is appearing in our world! For 23 years, Our Mother has been telling us that God exists! Not some vague sense that there’s a higher purpose or some vague notion of something larger than ourselves, but an all powerful and eternal God! Our Creator! And He loves us! And He wants us to change! For 23 years, our Blessed Mother has been bringing us messages from our loving and merciful Father. Always, Our Lady greets us, “Dear Children,” and for 23 years, our loving and patient Mother has been telling her children that our God wants us to change. Blessed Mother asks us to pray and to fast, to go to church, to confess our sins, and to read the Bible. Our Lady tells us to, “Pray! Pray! Pray!” Our Lady tells us to put God in the first place.
I Darrell, a layman, called to service, called to be a disciple and modern day apostle, have written these words in all hope. I have written these words for I believe them to be the Truth. I have seen and experienced miraculous things. I was called to this. I did not choose, for I know my words may bring me trouble or ridicule, and it would be easier for me to remain silent. But I cannot remain silent for I want all to know the Truth. I praise God for choosing such an undeserving and weak and sinful man as myself. I acknowledge that any good I say or do is possible only by the Grace of God. To Him I give all the glory. I leave you with this knowledge: if we trust in the good God and turn to Him, no matter what happens, everything will be all right.
In the words of Our Blessed Mother, “Praised be Jesus!” May the Peace of our Lord Jesus be with you always.
Reference
Weible, W. (1989). Medjugorje: The Message. Brewster, MA: Paraclete Press
