It really isn't just about me!
Back in the spring of 1996 I was not a happy camper but by all rights I should have been. I had a great husband, great kids, nice home, rewarding job ---but I was restless and uneasy. Each day was a monochrome blur--- one day bleeding into the next. After finally achieving all the things I thought would make my life perfect instead of contentment I felt empty. I found myself constantly asking "what is wrong with me?" Through a series of "coincidences" and unusual experiences I had begun drifting back to the faith of my childhood--- Roman Catholicism, after forays into various other spiritual "paths". The last such journey had been through the a mix of new age, neo paganism and occult. I had one defining experience in which I now believe I was allowed to experience "evil" as a force (previously something that I was sure was just a scare tactic to keep "religious" people in line). It was enough to stop me from delving further into the arcane studies I was pursuing. Shortly after that when walking through the lobby of the Catholic hospital I was working at I would pass the gift shop and see the rosaries in the window--- each time I went past them I felt a strong desire to pray the rosary--- something I thought was bizarre--- The last time I had done that was probably 25 years earlier--- I couldn't even remember how to do it. This went on for about two months and finally one day I told one of my fellow nurses, whom I knew was devout, about this strange inkling--- I told her I want to do it but I don't remember how. She got excited and told me not to worry she would bring me some tapes and a rosary--- the very next day they were sitting on my desk! I began praying the rosary with the tapes and during that 15-20 minutes I would feel peace--- it was like my soul would quiet and I felt relief. This friend then started to invite to go to Mass after work--- I declined because I wasn't quite sure I was ready to make that leap--- one day she asked again despite all my refusals and she added "Friday is my birthday and it would make me happy if you would go with me." What could I say---she had been so kind to me. Well--- when we got to Mass not only was it her birthday it was the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi--- I am named after him--- Susan Frances---well actually I am named after my grandmother but she was named after St. Francis. My grandmother (circa 1906) was one of the first babies to be cared for at St Francis hospital in Evanston IL. My great-grandmother developed typhoid fever after giving birth to my grandmother and so both were taken to the hospital to be cared for--- they were there for three months. When it was time to leave my Protestant great-grandmother asked the nuns what she could do to repay them for caring for her daughter while she recovered from her illness--- their request--- name your daughter Frances. My grandmother had been named Bergliad Matheson---she became Frances Matheson that day. After that every child on that side of the family was born there--- up until my generation--- my aunt went to nursing school there--- and I worked there for 12 years. Although my great-grandmother and grandmother never converted to Catholicism interestingly my grandmother married a Catholic man and promised her future mother-in-law that the children would be raised Catholic--- and they were--- and so were the grandchildren. Anyway---- I knew that it was not a coincidence that the first Mass I attended after 25+ years was on the feast of St Francis of Assisi--- it got my attention. Fast forward ahead about six months--- I was still praying the rosary but had not attended Mass again and then one dreary Friday afternoon in early April I was feeling really down--- I sat at home for a while but then couldn't stand being in the empty house (husband and children were busy) so I got into my car and drove to a Catholic church. I just wanted to go in and sit for awhile. When I pulled in there were a lot of cars in the parking but I didn't think much of it--- until I walked in and saw the Church was packed--- there was a big wooden cross standing in front of the sanctuary. I sat way in the back and listened--- I realized it was Good Friday. Then people started going up to the cross some knelt before it, some hugged it, some kissed it and others just patted it gently. I got in line and started to make my way to the cross--- when I got there I reached up and put my hand on the cross beam and suddenly I was overwhelmed and tears began running down my face--- I was embarrassed because I didn't know what these people would think of me so I hurried back to my pew and knelt down--- suddenly all I could say was "I am sorry, I am so so sorry"! Over and over I said it finally the tears stopped. Just before I stood up I had the sudden understanding that what grieved Jesus the most was that I had not brought my children to Him. I knew it with such certainty that right then I promised Jesus that I would do whatever He asked of me if He would help to bring my children into the faith. I do not think I have ever prayed anything more sincerely than that--- and within 3 years not only did my 18 year old daughter, 21 year old son receive the sacraments my unchurched Presbyterian husband had converted as well. Jesus heard me and answered me in a huge way--- my own personal miracle. Easter 2000 after my marriage situation was rectified my whole family, husband and children received Holy Communion together for the first time as a family--- it was such a wonderful and precious gift. The following Friday I was giving thanks during my Holy Hour and as I prayed I had an interior vision (I had never experienced such a thing before!) I saw the Blessed Mother holding a blond child with longish curly hair--- but she wasn't holding the child as we usually see with the Christ child facing out towards the people--- this time she held the child against her shoulder with her hand covering the back of the child's head--- in a very tender yet protective manner. I was startled, it only lasted a second but it was so vivid I recall all the details all these years later. After years of praying with this image I have come to believe that she was telling me she has been with me all along--- as a mother myself I know mother's just cannot give up on their kids.
I was thinking of all this and how ten years ago my conversion or reversion-- seemed to be all about me--- and of course , at first, it was about me but over the years I have come to see coming to Jesus is not just a personal journey--- This past Sunday was the Rite of Election and my son's fiance's mother and sister became members of the Elect. Last year it was my son's fiance who entered the Church--- I was marveling at the the chain reaction my coming home has begun. First me, then my kids and husband, my mother-in-law, my son's fiance, now her mother and sister--- and as I look forward there will hopefully be grandchildren, and family members influenced by the new converts this year--- and so on and so on--- What joy it gives me to think that my coming home to Jesus not only gave me whatI was longing for--- but also plays a part in bringing to Jesus what He is longing for.








