A lady sat at the back of a church weeping; not entirely sure if she was praying, grieving, or worrying. The day before her husband had thrown himself off a bridge over a river and had died from his injuries.
She had prayed for him their whole married life. He was a mean drunk, a womaniser, gambler, but somehow she still loved him, saw the good in him and had kept up her prayers for him for decades, despite seeing no sign or apparent change in him. Now it seemed too late, had her prayers been in vain ?
Even though it was still early morning, the church started to fill up and a long line of penitents formed a queue along the aisle outside the confessional box.
A few moments later the PP came out of the confessional and walked down the isle towards her, stopping at her row. He sat down next to her. (She had never met him before). After a few seconds he said “He turned to God in his heart, just before his face hit the water, your prayer was answered”
He walked back up the aisle to continue his daily 18 hour stint in the confessional. (He was the Cure of Ars).
Her sorrow turned to joy, God had saved her husband after all. God’s mercy had pursued him to the very end.
There is no such thing as a lost cause this side of death.