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ON THE FEAST OF OUR LADY OF GUADALUPE<\/p>\n
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Exactly nineteen years ago to the day, I consecrated my entire life and ministry to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Since then, she has enclosed me in the secret garden of her heart, and like a good Mother, has tended to my wounds, kissed my bruises, and taught me about her Son. She has loved me as her own\u2014as she loves all her children. Today’s writing is, in a sense, a milestone. It is the work of a “Woman clothed in the sun laboring to give birth” to a little son… and now you, her Little Rabble.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n IN<\/strong> the early summer of 2018, like a thief in the night, <\/em>a huge windstorm made a direct hit on our farm. This storm<\/a>,\u00a0<\/em>as I would soon find out, had a purpose: to bring to nothing the idols that I had clung to in my heart for decades…<\/p>\n <\/p>\n CREATING VOIDS<\/p>\n After my sister’s death when I was only nineteen, almost overnight, I subconsciously began to look for comfort in other ways than in God. Although I continued to go regularly to Mass and Confession, I found myself seeking solace in the touch and affection of the girls I was dating. But that inevitably led to trouble. Alcohol increasingly became a “reward,” a way to “unwind” at the end of a week. Or I would turn to sports, to wasting time in front of the TV, or to food and coffee. I would occasionally have a cigar or puff a pipe. Later, when I married Lea, I sought comfort through our marital union, sometimes crying in her arms, wishing the moment would not pass. Even nature became an attachment for me; it became my place of comfort, the lap on which I would rest instead of the Father’s.<\/p>\n You see, when I was seven years old, I invited Jesus to be my “personal Lord and Savior,” which He has remained to this day. I loved God too much to “turn on” Him; I knew that He probably had a plan in all this sorrow; I knew that, to renounce my faith, would be a disaster in itself… So, I still believed and followed Him. But I no longer trusted<\/em> Him. I could trust these comforts. They were tangible, in my control; they couldn’t betray me; they couldn’t turn my world upside down, so I thought.<\/p>\n Remarkably, in the midst of this “minor rebellion,” God called me into ministry in the mid-90’s. He began to do much to heal my trust in Him. I was committed to daily prayer, frequent confession, spiritual reading, spiritual direction and so on. These would often bring great spiritual consolations and the presence of God. I was learning to trust in His Divine Mercy. But still, I hung on to these other comforts. They were reliable, predictable. They were there when I was stressed or lonely. I thought I could love both “God and mammon.”<\/em> [1]<\/sup><\/a>cf. Matt 6:24<\/span><\/span>