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Wednesday, 23 May 2018

Purgatory, heaven & hell....a story from India


Set out below is an account of the experience of a priest who died and was shown Hell, Purgatory and Heaven. It is of course only his personal experience but there is nothing in it which is contrary to faith and I trust that some of you might find, as I did, that it was a warning and an encouragement.

On Sunday April 14, 1985, the Feast of the Divine Mercy, Fr Tom Maniyangat was going to celebrate Mass at a mission church in the north part of Kerala, and he had a fatal accident. He had a head on collision with a jeep. He was rushed to a hospital about 35 miles away but he died on the way.
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Fr Tom's soul left his body and he experienced death. He saw his body and the people who were carrying him to the hospital. He heard them crying and praying for him.He then met his Guardian angel. His angel said to him: "I am going to take you to Heaven, the Lord wants to meet you and talk with you." He also said that as part of that journey he wanted to show Fr Tom hell and purgatory. 
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This is how Fr Tom describes his visit to Hell and Purgatory Hell"First, the angel escorted me to hell. It was an awful sight! I saw Satan and the devils, an unquenchable fire ,worms crawling, people screaming and fighting, others being tortured by demons. I was told there are seven "degrees" or levels of suffering in the netherworld. Those who committed "mortal sin after mortal sin" in life were suffering the most intense heat. They had bodies and looked very ugly, so cruel and ugly, horrifying. They were human but like monsters: fearful, ugly-looking things. The angel told me that all these sufferings were due to unrepented mortal sins.Then, I understood that there are seven degrees of suffering or levels according to the number and kinds of mortal sins committed in their earthly lives. The souls looked very ugly, cruel and horrific. It was a fearful experience. I saw people whom I knew but I am not allowed to reveal their identities. The sins that convicted them were mainly abortion, homosexuality, sins of the flesh, euthanasia, hatefulness, lack of forgiveness and sacrilege.
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The angel told me that if they had repented they would have avoided hell and gone instead to purgatory. I also understood that some people who repent from these sins might be purified on earth through their sufferings. This way they can avoid purgatory and go straight to heaven. I was surprised when I saw in hell even Priests and Bishops, some of whom I never expected to see. Many of them were there because they had misled the people with false teaching and bad example.
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After the visit to hell, my Guardian angel escorted me to Purgatory. Here too, there are seven degrees of suffering and unquenchable fire. But it is far less intense than hell and there was neither quarreling nor fighting. The main suffering of these so is their separation from God. Some of those who are in Purgatory committed numerous mortal sins; but they were reconciled with God before their death. Even though these souls are suffering, they enjoy peace and the knowledge that one day they will see God face to face.I had a chance to communicate with the souls in Purgatory. They asked me to pray for them and to tell the people to pray for them as well, so they can go to heaven quickly. 
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When we pray for these souls we will receive their gratitude through their prayers and once they enter heaven their prayers become even more meritorious.
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Next, my angel escorted me to heaven passing through a big dazzling white tunnel. I never experienced this much peace and joy in my life. Then immediately the heaven opened up and I heard the most delightful music, which I never heard before. The angels were singing and praising God. I saw all the saints, especially the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph, and many dedicated holy Bishops and Priests who were shining like stars.
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And when I appeared before the Lord, Jesus told me: "I want you to go back to the world. In your second life you will be an instrument of peace and healing to my people. You will walk in a foreign land and you will speak in a foreign tongue. Everything is possible for you with my grace." After these words, the Blessed Mother told me, "Do whatever He tells you. [John 2:5] I will help you in your ministries."Words can not express the beauty of heaven. There we find so much peace and happiness, which exceed a million times our imagination. 
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Our Lord is far more beautiful than any image can convey. His face is radiant and luminous and more beautiful than a thousand rising suns. The pictures we see in the world are only a shadow of His magnificence. The Blessed Mother was next to Jesus; she was so beautiful and radiant. None of the images we see in this world can compare with her real beauty. Heaven is our real home: we are all created to reach heaven and enjoy God forever. 
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Back to Earth. 
As they were moving my dead body to the morgue, my soul came back to the body. I felt an excruciating pain because of so many wounds and broken bones. I began to scream and then the people became frightened and ran away screaming.One of them approached the doctor and said: "The dead body is screaming." The doctor came to examine the body and found that I was alive. So he said: "Father is alive. It is a miracle - take him back to the hospital."

Monday, 21 May 2018

‘A Living God’







My wife and I were travelling recently in the Mountain Province in the north of the country. It’s still a mission territory but even though there is not always a priest around the people gather every evening for the rosary after they come in from the fields.

We joined them and couldn’t help but notice that most were old and most were women. This is a common sight here as in the western world to see mostly elderly women stoically bolstering the church. I wonder why ?

Clearly the problem cannot be our origin. It is the church started by the Lord Himself. It’s Pope and Bishops successors of Peter and the Apostles. We don’t cater to the shifting sands of public opinion but retain authentic and unchangeable teachings.

The thing is though, faith cannot really be taught, it must be caught. And you can only catch it from someone who has it in the first place. The early days of the church set the tone for this :- ‘These are the signs that will be associated with believers: in my name they will cast out devils; they will have the gift of tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands and be unharmed should they drink deadly poison; they will lay their hands on the sick, who will recover.'’(Mk 16:17) The Acts of the apostles lead us into this demonstration of faith, confirmed by heaven through wonderful signs and wonders of His love and mercy.

Would anyone leave that church? Those early Christians showed that Jesus was a living God, the source of everything we need, not just salvation but everything. Faith became the very centre of their lives, a living faith, an active one, a life of miracles. After all it would be inaccurate to preach a God who is merely a historical figure, or a reclusive or remote Being.

After the Rosary we shared some testimonies about miracles we had seen over the years and my wife gave a talk about praying for healing and we prayed over many who were sick. After that the participants couldn’t wait to go and pray for their sick friends and relatives: an immediate domino effect. I think God is waiting as patiently to be introduced as His people are waiting to hear more about and receive Him!

The Crucifix .. A story from Italy


Father Jean Christophe ., founder of a new community in France gave this testimony: While a seminarian in Rome, he liked to visit the children's prison of Casa Del Marmo where Gypsies were being incarcerated for thefts and small offences. Some children did not have any identification papers and were not entitled to receive visitors, because nobody could verify who was a family member. However, Jean Christophe was accepted as a visitor and became a link between those children and their families. He would bring them clothing, as some would stay for a whole month without being able to change, unable to receive parcels.  In this context, Jean Christophe knew some Gypsies from Bosnia who had set up camp close to Rome. The poverty there was terrible.

In the camp, he met Jiani, 22 years old, a Muslim, married and the father of two children. Very outgoing and dynamic, he had a great impact on his entourage and people liked to gather around to listen to him. He was full of initiatives, good ones as well as bad ones. One day, Jean Christophe visited Jiani in his little hut made of wood and cardboard. He found him totally depressed, mute for pain and closed, hiding his arms. Then Jean Christophe realized he had no more hands!! What had happened? During a recent break-in, Jiani had encountered a metal door that was electrified, and the current had kept his hands stuck to the door. 

When his two buddies saw that, they could not think of any other way to save his life than cutting his hands off. Jiani fell into deep depression and wanted to commit suicide. Choked by this tragedy, Jean Christophe did not know how to react. What could be said in face of such a horror? But Jean Christophe always has his inner jacket filled with goodies" to pass around, and it occurred to him to pull out of his pocket a wooden crucifix (the St. Damiano one, so dear to St. Francis of Assisi) and to leave it by Jiani's bed. He also said a few words to him about Jesus before leaving. A month later, Jean Christophe came back into the camp and found Jiani completely changed. He was surrounded by a little crowd and speaking joyfully. Back to himself, he heartily welcomed Jean Christophe who asked him: - What happened to you, Jiani? You look so cheerful today?!-It is thanks to you!

Then Jiani explained to Jean Christophe that after his visit, he looked at the Crucifix calmly and noticed that Jesus had his two hands nailed to the wood. He said to himself, He is just like me! If there is anyone who can understand me, it is Him! I lost my hands because of a robbery whereas He offered them for us! And Jiani concluded: - He can only be God! 

Jiani asked to be baptized a Catholic. Since he was the leader, as it often occurs in the Gypsy culture, his whole clan was baptized with him as well as his friends. Besides, they started seeing Jean Christophe as their wiseman. Therefore he was able to announce Jesus in the camp quite openly! This Muslim received life by looking at the Crucified One

Sunday, 20 May 2018

Get up and walk



In Singapore, I saw a friend that I knew from Medjugorje, Fr. Michael Lim,who has a beautiful testimony.

From Chinese origin, a Buddhist, he knew nothing about our faith and wanted to keep away from Christians. His elder sister, Violet, has been gravely ill since adolescence. She had to go through many painful surgeries, including one that almost killed her. Her condition was getting worse and worse. Stuck to her wheelchair, she was a cause of great sorrow for her family, who felt powerless to help her. 

In June 1995, Rose, a Catholic, advised Michael to take his sister to a church where a priest was to lead a charismatic healing service. Michael was skeptical but willing to do anything to help his sister. He explained: 'People were waving their arms or placing their hands on another's shoulder to pray. I thought it was ridiculous. Rose told me to pray to Jesus to send the Holy Spirit through the priest to heal my sister. I didn't understand what she was talking about. But I spoke to Jesus and I said, 'Make her walk and I will believe in you.' When the priest came up to us, he prayed over my sister and then told her to stand. First she walked and then she started to run. The first thing that came into my mind was: He's alive! Jesus is real! I was in tears. From that point onwards I wanted to know everything there was to know about Catholicism. I read the whole Bible from cover to cover in less than 60 days.

Michael could not put the Bible down and spent several hours a day reading it, like a thirsty man who finally has found living waters to quench his thirst. His soul longed for the living God!

Of course the story does not end here, but I can tell you that after this event, his entire family was baptized and Michael was accepted into the seminary at the age of 38. He was ordained a priest last month, March 25th, the Annunciation. He said to his parishioners: It took me 35 years to find God. You were given that knowledge from birth and you want to throw it away? Listen to me. Never waste it!

Yes, Jesus is alive! On Easter we are going to celebrate the joy of having such a God, not made by human hands and powerless to save, but real and alive; and his name is Love! His name is Ieshua, God saves

www.childrenofmedjugorje.com

Saturday, 19 May 2018

The Great Miracle of Our Lady Del Pilar ..a story from Spain



In 1637, a youngster employed on a farm, Juan Miguel Pellicer (1617-1647), born in Calanda, Spain in a family of seven children, fell from a cart. A wheel broke his right leg, crushing the tibia right down the middle.

(Article 7 of Proceedings, quoted by Deroo, 1977, 24). He was admitted to a hospital in Valencia on August 3, 1637, and then transferred to the royal hospital in Zaragoza in early October. Reduced to begging, he tried different remedies in vain. At the end of October, his leg was amputated four fingers above the knee. He left the hospital in the spring of 1638 and returned to live in Calanda, among his own. 

The night of March 29, 1640, he slept in a room with his parents. In the morning, his father discovered two feet under the covers: the amputated leg had returned! A canonical trial began on June 5, 1640. On April 22, 1641, the municipality of Calanda chose Our Lady of the Pilar as its patron saint. On April 27, Bishop Apaolaza, Archbishop of Zaragoza, declared: We say, vote and declare that Juan Miguel Pellicer (...) has miraculously recovered his right leg which previously had been amputated. This restitution is not the work of nature, but was carried out in a miraculous and admirable way and should be recognized as a miracle. (AASS, July, vol VI, 120 and Copia literal autntica y del Proceso y sentencia de calificacio' n, Zaragoza, 1940, 28.) 

A medal to commemorate the miracle was struck in 1671. Some associate this miracle to an apparition of the Blessed Virgin. In actual fact, no evidence can lead us to believe this. Juan Miguel had merely prayed to Our Lady of the Pilar before going to bed and then he had a dream in which he saw the Blessed Virgin rubbing his sore stump with oil from the lamps in the chapel of Saragossa.

Friday, 18 May 2018

Out of Freemasonry and into the light of truth ....a story from America



I grew up in a town in Arizona where it seemed as though virtually all of the "pillars of the community" were Masons. My father passed away in 1963. He was so much more to me than just my dad. ..one of his final wishes, that he made known to my mother, was that his two sons become Masons. Some fifteen years later, my father's wish was fulfilled. I was initiated an Entered Apprentice into the Blue Lodge; by 1978, I was raised to a Master Mason. I still had no idea what Freemasonry was all about. I had always heard that it was a fraternity of men, the teachings of which were based upon the Bible. Even on the evening of my initiation, I was required to declare that I would "cheerfully conform to all the ancient usages and established customs of the Fraternity.", even though I had absolutely no idea what all these "usages" and "established customs" were.

By January of 1984, something else happened in my life that was to change me and my circumstances forever, and that very special something, Praise God, was Jesus Christ! He began to show me that by following the teachings of Freemasonry, instead of becoming stronger in my Christian faith and closer to Him, I was following false teachings of an organization where something called the Great Architect of the Universe is prayed to, not the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He began showing me that instead of receiving the Truth of His Holy Word, I was receiving skillfully, sometimes not so skillfully, crafted distortions of it...

After saying grace before a Masonic dinner a Past Master expressed his concern over the "error" I had made that evening. I asked him what the problem was, and his answer, which should have been a wake-up call for me and for any Christian was, "You prayed in the name of Jesus Christ." It may be offensive to our Jewish members. I said, in a few moments, we are going to be opening lodge with the Holy Bible on the altar, complete with New Testament. ..I was upset, so I walked away...

I thought of the blood oaths I had taken; I thought of the numerous times I had administered them. It had been revealed to me that such oaths are against God's written word. This same Written Word that the Order supposedly based its rituals on, says that we are not to make any oaths at all; yet those hideous penalties to the obligations: "..that of having my throat cut across, my tongue torn out, and with my body buried in the sands of the seas at low-water mark"; "..that of having my left breast torn open, my heart and vitals taken thence, and with my body given as a prey to the vultures of the air"; and, "..that of having my body severed in twain, my bowels taken thence, etc, etc, etc.,.." I was told by some that it was no big deal; the penalties were only meant to convey to the candidate how important it was to take the obligations seriously. No big deal? If the penalties of the oaths were that frivolous, then that was all the more reason we should not be swearing them to God.

Then one day I fell to my knees alongside my bed and cried out to God, in the name of Jesus Christ, to please show me the truth. With my eyes closed, I heard a roar, and I saw the words "Blood Oath", in big red letters. I got out of my chair and went to my knees again. I was crying, and I was scared. I cried out to God, in the name of Jesus Christ, and begged Him to forgive me if I had wronged him. He said, 
"Yes, Duane, you have wronged Me, and yes, you are forgiven."

I submitted my letter of withdrawal from the lodge, and within a day or two, I began receiving phone calls, mainly from Past Masters whom I had always had a great deal of respect for. They were pleading with me to not go through with this decision I had come to. I explained to him that my reasons for leaving Freemasonry were because of the my newfound faith in Jesus Christ.

Thursday, 17 May 2018

A Gentleman in Mourning .... (a Padre Pio story)


In the lunch room of Our Lady of Grace hotel at San Giovanni Rotondo, I saw at a little table a gentleman dressed in black, obviously in mourning. Yet the expression on his face was radiant, as if reflecting a great inner joy. It struck me as a strange contrast. I did not have the opportunity to speak to him in the hotel, but later on we were in the same compartment on the train during the return trip.

As often happens, some travelers asked those of us who had boarded the train to Foggis whether we had been to see Padre Pio. When we said yes they asked us to talk about him. The gentleman in mourning did not hesitate; he told the following story:

A few days ago they killed my only son, who was barely 16 years old. I was overwhelmed with sorrow, and it seemed as if I could never again rise from my despair. Nobody could console me. However, some time ago a friend of mine told me about a certain Padre Pio, but I didn't want to hear about him then. For years I had abandoned my family, my wife, my daughter and my son-and I lived with a woman. My life was in chaos; nothing was sacred to me anymore. And then, all of a sudden, misfortune !There I was, oppressed by such despair that the memory of Padre Pio's name seemed like an anchor of salvation. I felt as though I might be able to find a bit of comfort from him from him alone !How this thought came to me, I do not know. But I could not resist any longer and took the first train that went south from Milan. I was finally able to meet Padre Pio yesterday. I got on my knees as if to go to confession but without the slightest intention of making a real confession-and I said to him Padre Pio, they have killed my only son!

I said this because I wanted a word of comfort from him. But Padre Pio, looking at me sternly, had only this brief question for me- " And that's not enough for you ?" I was struck by these words, and I understood in an instant what I had not understood in many years. My entire life, with all its errors stood before me. Yes, Padre Pio! I answered. What are you waiting for? he asked me. I understood what he meant by that and I asked him if he could hear my confession.

Since then I have been the happiest man in the world, in spite of my great mourning. I had hoped to find comfort and consolation from him, but he gave me much more: he completely transformed me. Now I'm going back to my home, to my wife, to my daughter.I'm going home with a serene heart.

Tuesday, 15 May 2018

The Gift of Life... a story from America



.Since you are my rock and my fortress, for the sake of your name lead and guide me. Free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge (Psalm 31:3,4).

Matt shook my hand and asked me to have a seat. I don't know if I've ever shared my story with you he began. Indeed he hadn't and I am always very interested in the various testimonies people have, so I listened eagerly.

A young lady moved out to California in the sixties. While living there she was raped, which resulted in a pregnancy. She moved back to Pennsylvania shamed, disgraced and broken. Her parents placed her in a distant home for unwed mothers. She gave birth to an infant son and gave him up for adoption. However the baby had a serious muscular disorder and it was feared he would never walk. He was placed in foster care where he spent the first year of his life before he was finally adopted. This baby is Matt.

His adoptive parents were not Christians at that time, but when he was still small first his mother and then his father accepted Christ. He himself accepted the Lord at an early age. When Matt was in college he did a report in a communication class on post-adoption syndrome versus post-abortion syndrome, which sparked an interest in locating his birth mother. He went to his adoptive parents and shared with them of this interest and they gave him their blessing to proceed... (eventually he found her).

However in pursuing the matter he was told that she had a terminal illness and was not expected to live much longer. There was a concern regarding the emotional impact of having a meeting under these circumstances. But he chose to go through with the meeting and a week later met her in the office of the agency. They immediately connected and the meeting lasted 6 hours! Matt found out that since his birth she also had become a Christian, had married and had three boys, who of course were his half-brothers. She lived for a number of years following this and prior to her death Matt developed a wonderful relationship with her that he describes as a deep friendship. His birth mother and his adoptive mother also became friends! She was present for his wedding, which was the last time she was able to get out before her death. Prior to her passing Matt specifically told her, I am so thankful you gave up nine months of your life that I might have life.

Monday, 14 May 2018

Family Prayer



My wife and I were invited to a Family conference a few years ago as part of a panel discussion on conflict resolution in families. As the building block of society and the church, what happens within families is vitally important and perhaps that is why it’s always under attack. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions!” 

One of my grandmother’s catch phrases was ‘he played (H)amlet’ which she used to describe the annoyance and often over-reaction people have when they argue. Perhaps we can all relate and recall occasions when the top was left off the toothpaste (or the seat left up) and we recited a demented monologue from a Shakespearean tragedy in response.

Our contribution to the family conference discussion was more on prevention rather than cure though. For many years now, we have the practice of praying together each morning, before any fuse can be lit. As a discipline it has been transformative in our lives and it really does work; we offer the day to God, pray for mercy and forgiveness, for protection during the day, our work and activities, seek the intercession of the angels and saints, bless the house with Holy water regularly too.  This morning prayer together, has become more important than breakfast. If we don’t lay the day’s foundation in prayer, someone else will, in discord.

Family prayer is often neglected nowadays and family members can often have their day ruined even before they leave the house in the morning if they go into the day unprepared or unprotected. That has been our observation. The challenge we gave to the participants was ‘try it and see’.

Sunday, 13 May 2018

The Power of Holy Water..a story from Spain (from the Autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila)



From long experience I have learned that there is nothing like holy water to put devils to flight and prevent them from coming back again. They also flee from the Cross, but return; so holy water must have great virtue. For my own part, whenever I take it, my soul feels a particular and most notable consolation.

In fact, it is quite usual for me to be conscious of a refreshment which I cannot possibly describe, resembling an inward joy which comforts my whole soul. This is not fancy, or something, which has happened to me only once; it has happened again and again and I have observed it most attentively. It is let us say, as if someone very hot and thirsty were to drink from a jug of cold water: he would feel the refreshment throughout his body. I often reflect on the great importance of everything ordained by the Church and it makes me very happy to find that those words of the Church are so powerful that they impart their power to the water and make it so very different from water which has not been blessed.

One night, too, about this time, I thought the devils were stifling me; and when the nuns had sprinkled a great deal of holy water about I saw a huge crowd of them running away as quickly as though they were about to fling themselves down a steep place.

I will only describe something that happened to me one night of All Souls. I was in an oratory: I had said one nocturne and was repeating some very devotional prayers which follow it -- they are extremely devotional: we have them in our office-book -- when actually the devil himself alighted on the book, to prevent me from finishing the prayer. I made the sign of the Cross and he went away. I then began again and he came back. I think I began that prayer three times and not until I had sprinkled some holy water on him could I finish it. At the same moment I saw several souls coming out of purgatory: their time there must have been nearly up and I thought that perhaps the devil was trying to impede their deliverance.

Saturday, 12 May 2018

Thats HIM!


Not long ago, somewhere in the hinterlands of Mindanao, a grim tragedy happened. A frustrated father shot dead his wife before finally turning the gun on himself, pulling the trigger. The entire scene was witnessed by a lone survivor, a seven year old boy---the couples only son.

They were so impoverished that his parents thought it was the only way out. Relatives from both sides grieved and pitifully wanted to adopt the orphaned child but they were also very poor. Fortunately, a priest from a nearby town agreed to look after him in his parish locality. 

It was difficult for volunteer workers in the church to communicate with the boy because he seemed to be always in a state of shock. Teaching was not any easier since he did not have any educational foundation at all, sad to say, illiterate.

One afternoon, while the young lad was attending Catechism class the Church was conducting for the less fortunate children in the neighborhood, the teacher was showing an enlarged poster of Jesus Christ. 

As he was going around the room, he asked his class,Do you know who this is? Every child had a puzzled look as they silently stared at the photo. Suddenly, amid the eerie silence, the boy stood up with eyes wide open and pointing to the poster, Thats HIM! He was the one who was with me at the moment my parents died, he screamed repeatedly in his native dialect.

Everybody in the room did not know what to say, especially those who knew of the boys history.

The Water Prison....a story from China


By Bishop John Tong

People have reason to be afraid of water, as those who have experienced the water prison realise. What is a water prison ? Imagine a small, dark dungeon with a narrow concrete table or altar in the middle of it.

The room is flooded so that only the table is above the water level. The guards take two stubborn prisoners who need to be taught a lesson and put them on the table every morning. The prisoners sit on the concrete, back to back, with no space to move until bedtime.

After 40 days the men should be either crazy or ready to sign any confession, if they have not already fallen into the water and drowned.

A Catholic Priest was put into a water prison. His companion complained and cursed from the first day, but the Priest decided to meditate and make a private retreat.

Before long the non-Christian prisoner became curious as to how his partner could be so serene under such circumstances. He began to ask him questions.

The Priest took the opportunity to explain the Gospel and the teachings of the church to him and eventually the catechumen asked 'There is water here, what is to prevent me from being baptised?'. And so the Priest baptised him, there & then, just as Philip baptised the Ethiopian eunuch in the Acts of the Apostles.

The Non-Christian had at first been afraid of the water around his small table, but not when the Spirit came.

Friday, 11 May 2018

The power of intercessory prayer.. a story from Poland (from St. Faustinas diary)


In the evening, when I was in my cell, I saw an Angel, the executor of divine wrath. He was clothed in a dazzling robe, his face gloriously bright, a cloud beneath his feet. From the cloud, bolts of thunder and flashes of lightning were springing into his hands; and from his hand they were going forth, and only then were they striking the earth. When I saw this sign of divine wrath which was about to strike the earth, and in particular a certain place, which for good reasons I cannot name, I began to implore the Angel to hold off for a few moments, and the world would do penance.

But my plea was a mere nothing in the face of the divine anger. Just then I saw the Most Holy Trinity. The greatness of Its majesty pierced me deeply, and I did not dare to repeat my entreaties. At that very moment I felt in my soul the power of Jesus' grace, which dwells in my soul. When I became conscious of this grace, I was instantly snatched up before the Throne of God. Oh, how great is our Lord and God and how incomprehensible His holiness! I will make no attempt to describe this greatness, because before long we shall all see Him as He is. I found myself pleading with God for the world with words heard interiorly

As I was praying in this manner, I saw the Angel's helplessness: he could not carry out the just punishment that was rightly due for sins. Never before had I prayed with such inner power as I did then.

Also..."Through fasting and prayer one can stop wars, one can suspend the laws of nature." Our Lady of Medjugorje (7/21/82)

Thursday, 10 May 2018

Generosity in the Face of Need ..a story from Eygpt


An old man and a brother led their life together. Now the old man was charitable. It happened that there was a famine and the people came to his door seeking alms, and in charity the old man gave to all who came. Seeing what was happening, the brother said to the old man, "Give me my share of the loaves, and do what you like with yours." The old man divided the loaves and gave alms from his share.

Now many people hastened to the old man, learning that he supplied everyone, and God -- seeing that he supplied everyone -- blessed these loaves. But when the brother had consumed his own food he said to the old man, "Since I have only a little food left, Abba, take me back into the common life again." The old man said, "I will do as you wish." So they began to again to live in common. 

When scarcity came again, the needy came back seeking alms. Now one day the brother came in and saw they were short of loaves. A poor man came, and the old man told the brother to give him alms. He said, "It is no longer possible, father." The old man said to him, "Go in and look." The brother went inside and found the bin full of loaves. When he saw that, he was filled with fear, and taking some he gave to the poor. In this way he learned the faith and virtue of the old man, and he gave glory to God

Wednesday, 2 May 2018

Never Miss an Opportunity to show Mercy ..

an extract from St Faustina’s diary , Divine Mercy in my Soul


..+ Jesus came to the main entrance today, under the guise of a poor young man. This young man, emaciated, barefoot and bareheaded, and with his clothes in tatters, was frozen because the day was cold and rainy. He asked for something hot to eat. So I went to the kitchen, but found nothing there for the poor. But, after searching around for some time, I succeeded in finding some soup, which I reheated and into which I crumbled some bread, and I gave it to the poor young man, who ate it.

 As I was taking the bowl from him, he gave me to know that He was the Lord of heaven and earth. When I saw Him as He was, He vanished from my sight. When I went back in and reflected on what had happened at the gate, I heard these words in my soul: My daughter, the blessings of the poor who bless Me as they leave this gate have reached My ears. And your compassion, within the bounds of obedience, has pleased Me, and this is why I came down from My throne – to taste the fruits of your mercy.

Miracles in Naju ... a story from Korea


On the day we first visited Naju, the Blessed Mother was weeping lots of tears of blood through her statue. We cried loudly for a long time, repenting our sins and our indifference to her, who was actually so close to us all the time.

Since then, we have visited Naju frequently, filled with the desire to see the Blessed Mother. On October 19, 1990, we attended an overnight prayer meeting for the first time. While listening to Julia relaying the Blessed Mother's messages, I could not control myself and wept so much, repenting my sins. When Julia prayed for me at the end of the prayer meeting, I felt her hand as hot as an iron as she touched my chest. I also felt an intense pain on the left side of my chest, which lasted until the next day. But, on subsequent days, my health improved visibly every day. 

My diabetes, which had afflicted me for thirty years, was gone! I stopped all the medication, but felt as light as a feather in my body. Now I can eat anything: rice, candy, chocolate, etc. My twenty year-old arthritis was also cured. Before, I had trouble bending my knees. Excess water had to be drained out of my knee joints. Now, it is all history. My mother had her first stroke in October 1991. She was in a hospital for three months. But, on May 1, 1992, she had another stroke. Doctors said that it was hopeless. The whole family (there are twenty-five of us) gathered, expecting the worst. But, because my mother loved the Blessed Mother in Naju so much, we informed Julia. She came at about 10 p.m. on May 3. We were shocked, when we saw Julia begin praying for my Mother's recovery. Everyone had already given up hope. My mother remained unconscious. A while later, as Julia continued praying, my mother opened her eyes and, looking at Julia, said, The Holy Water! and, Forgive me.

Julia prayed so fervently. She prayed for each of us, too. She left a little past midnight. My mother continued to recover and ate some food. By daybreak, she became fully alert and spoke clearly. All of us were in such a shock that we could not even speak well. Our nine brothers and sisters were all married, but had different religions. We had lots of distrust and tension in the family. Now we cried and repented. Instead of blaming each other, we all admitted our own faults. This was truly an amazing miracle. We embraced each other and cried loudly asking for forgiveness. 

We offered up our endless gratitude to the Lord and the Blessed Mother for the restored peace in our family. In fact, my mother was always sad about the different religions and tension among her children and offered rosary prayers for each of us from 3:30 a.m. every day. God allowed this grace of conversion and restoration of peace in my family because of the prayers by my mother .Through Julia's prayers for each of us that night, my eighty-three year-old father-in-law was cured of an intestinal inflammation, which everyone had said was incurable. Four others were cured of various sicknesses like ulcers, arthritis, and pleurisy. My whole family converted because of these amazing miracles. We all came back to the Blessed Mother in Naju and began a life of prayers.