Something happened this week, beginning with a Feast of the Assumption Mass, that was quite remarkable.
This Holy Day holds a special meaning for me, with my own mother.
Every summer, our family would go to New York to visit my mother's relatives. It was great fun, as my Grandfather (straight from Sicily) lived
in Coney Island.
On August 15th, my mother would be sure to take me to the beach, telling me that we should "take a dip" into the ocean to honor that day. It's funny-we never went to Mass, but it was a yearly ritual.
August 15th is the only Holy Day I could ever remember. It was the only one ever mentioned in our family.
This mystery was somewhat solved when I saw an Italian Princess on The Journey Home program. She said that Aug. 15th was a greatly celebrated holiday for Italians, with much festivity attached to it. That explained it.
I went to a 7pm Mass, celebrated by a Mexican priest. His homily was simple; go back to Mary-she will help you. His word hit my heart. I'm in very tough circumstances right now, and I knew I needed "extra help." I also knew she would be there for me.
Next day I said the Rosary. I flipped on the TV, and a guest on EWTN was describing how halfway through a Rosary, he had a revelation about himself that opened his eyes to God.
Within a few hours I had a revelation of what to do about a situation in my life that seemed to have no solution. How do I know it's God? Because although the facts of this matter had existed for months, I could NEVER have put it together as a plan for my life the way He did for me at that moment.
I knew that I knew that I KNEW I had to try God's plan. I'll keep you posted. There are many steps involved, but if it's God's will, He will strengthen me.
