My Mouth Will Tell of Your Righteous Acts
My mouth will tell of your righteous acts,
of your deeds of salvation all day long,
though their number is past my knowledge.
I will come praising the mighty deeds of the Lord God,
I will praise your righteousness, yours alone. Psalm 71:15,16
If you would like to submit a testimony to tell of His righteous acts in your life, please click here.
Conversion
I was baptized Catholic as a baby but not raised Catholic. In my late 30’s I felt I was being called to join the church and it had to be Catholic. When I would mention this to someone, they would question me with “why”. I couldn’t explain why and as the feeling got stronger, I thought, “Why not?”
On my fortieth birthday I showed up at Newman, sat in the middle, stood when others stood. Had no idea what was going on, but as I sat there the tears ran down my face and I knew I was at home, where I belonged. I kept going, attended classes and was welcomed into the church.
At age 42 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I then understood why God was calling me and saw how the Holy Spirit had been working in my life. It’s now been over 20 years and He continues to be by my side, helping me through some very hard times. Philippians 4:13 – “I can do all things in him who strengthens me.”
Thank you, Lord, for always being with me and never stopped calling my name.
— Karen Graham
Hi, I am Deacon Ken Berry from St. Joseph Parish, Edina, MO. As the Bishops Liaison to the Catholic Charismatic Renewal for the Diocese of Jefferson City, I was asked to write my testimony for the Renewals quarterly newsletter.
Starting at the beginning I grew up in Calhoun, a small town in West Central MO. It was in my youth that my faith journey began. I attended a small Southern Baptist Church while growing up. My parents were good Christian parents and we always attended Sunday School and Sunday worship services on a regular basis.
It was when I graduated from high school that I began to drift away from the church. I attended college for two years after high school and during that time began to drink some. Since this was the Vietnam War era, I was mainly going to college to avoid the draft. As I was flunking out of college I left school and immediately received my draft notice. Being the smart person that I am I thought I could join the Army for four years and escape from going to Vietnam. So rather than allow my self to be drafted into the infantry I enlisted for four years in the Army Security Agency. After my training my first assignment was, you guessed it, Vietnam.
During my year there I began to drink heavily, mainly I think to hide my fear and my loneliness. The booze was cheap and I dranked more and more. After Vietnam I was sent to Germany for two years. And what do they drink in Germany? German Beer. I drank German Beer like it was water. When I was discharged from the Army in December 1971, I was a full-blown Alcoholic.
While in Germany I happen to meet my wife Marianne who is from Massachusetts and who was visiting her twin sister, who was married to one of the men in my unit. This began a two year long distance courtship. Marianne happened to be Catholic. We were married May 28, 1972. After our marriage and after attending Sunday Mass and Holy Day Masses with Marianne for 13 years, I joined the Catholic Church on Holy Saturday 1985.
In the fall of 1987 our priest at the time began to talk about having a Life in the Spirit Seminar and wanted my wife and me to attend. We had never heard of the Catholic Charismatic Renewal and had no idea what a Life in the Spirit Seminar was. My wife agreed to go and after much encouragement I reluctantly agreed to go. I attended the first four sessions; (the seminar was one night a week for seven weeks). What is called Baptism in the Holy Spirit happens on the fifth week. It so happened that the fifth week was stag night at the Country Club and I was invited to that, so I missed the Baptism in the Holy Spirit.
I remember coming home from the Country Club and my wife sitting in the living room, (she had been prayed over for Baptism in the Holy Spirit) and I asked her if she could pray in tongues, which is one of the gifts a person often receives when they are Baptized in the Spirit. She said no she couldn’t and I said well that doesn’t surprise me. You see I thought all this business about praying in tongues was a lot of foolishness, and had been making fun of it through out the seminar. However nine days later when my wife received Holy Communion at Saturday Night Mass, she received the gift of tongues. But she was afraid to tell me as I had been making so much fun of it. She did finally tell me and I said, “I want to hear you.” She prayed in tongues for me and I said, “Do that again.” I was astounded. You see I realized that it was real, because I knew that my wife would not lie to me.
I did attend the final two sessions of the Life in the Spirit Seminar and began to attend the weekly prayer meeting that our priest started. Father then began to talk about taking a Greyhound bus full of people to the National Catholic Charismatic Conference at the University of Norte Dame, South Bend Indiana, over Memorial Day weekend, 1988. My wife and I decided that we would go to that conference.
The bus would leave on Friday morning so I had to take my two young children to my parents’ house after work on Thursday afternoon for the weekend. This was a 200-mile trip each way. Before I left Edina I purchased a quart bottle of Jack Daniel’s Bourbon and drank on that bottle all the way to my parents’ house and all the way back which was an 8-hour round trip. When I got back to Edina about midnight that night I had about one drink left in the bottom of that bottle.
You see my drinking had continued over the years and had gotten to the point that I was a hopeless alcoholic. I drank everyday. My biggest fear was that I would run out of Jack Daniel’s over the weekend, because at that time you could not buy alcohol on Sundays.
The night before I took my children to my parents for the weekend, which was Wednesday night I went into our church in the dark, and knelt before the life size crucifix that hangs over our alter and I prayed. I said, “Lord Jesus I am going to that conference at the University of Notre Dame and when I get there I am turning my life over to you. You can do with me whatever you want to. I can’t go on living my life the way I am.” You see I had hit bottom. My wife had found me laying in our back yard at 2:00 in the morning laying in my own vomit. This was the first time in 20 years of drinking that I had failed to make it to bed under my own power. I knew I had a serious problem, I didn’t know what to do about it. The only one I knew to turn to was Jesus Christ.
We went to the Conference, and on Saturday I attended a Life in the Spirit Seminar and when I was prayed with for Baptism of the Holy Spirit. I spoke in tongues. The closing Mass at that conference included a healing service. During that healing service Jesus healed me of my 20 years of alcoholism. Bishop Sam Jacobs was on the Platform and was getting Words of Knowledge. He looked right at where I was sitting and said that someone was being healed of alcoholism. I remember sitting there, the tears rolling down my face, and feeling this tremendous weight, this tremendous burden being lifted from me. That was 20 years ago and I have not had a drink since, nor have I had a craving or desire to drink. You see I got on that bus that Friday morning sick and hungover from drinking that bottle of Jack Daniel’s while taking my kids to my parents’ house. I got off that bus on Sunday night a free man. Jesus had set me free.
My wife and I had went to the conference early after lunch on that Sunday afternoon to save seats for the closing Mass, seats for those on the bus with us. While sitting there we smelled this intense smell of Roses. I didn’t know it at the time but my wife had made a novena to St Theresa the Little Flower. St Theresa was interceding for me.
The Charismatic Renewal has changed my life. If it weren’t for the Renewal most likely I would be dead by now, as I was drinking myself to death. Remember the one drink I had left in that quart bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I kept that bottle for several years in the brown bag that it came in, stored away. Once in awhile I would take it out and look at it and put it back and say, “I don’t need you anymore. I have found someone better. I have found Jesus Christ.” The Charismatic Renewal is why I am a Deacon, it is why I do all the things I do to serve the church. It is why I am involved in the Residents Encounter Christ program, taking the Good News of Jesus Christ into prison. The Charismatic Renewal brought the light of Jesus Christ into the darkness that I was living in. May this testimony help bring the Light of Christ into the life of someone you know who is struggling with darkness. May they know the healing presence of Jesus in their life. Amen.
— Ken Berry
Edina, MO
I was fortunate enough to have been raised with some very loving Christians in my life. They did, and still do, exemplify the Lord’s command to love God and love neighbor. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were Pentecostals, and my grandpa was the Pastor at the church we attended. There were periods of unbelief, and not living up to the directives of the faith, but for the majority of my life I would have considered myself a Protestant. Though, there was a verse that stopped me in my tracks during my first readthrough of the Bible that caused me to question if Catholicism was true. It was John 20:23 where Jesus is telling the apostles that whoever’s sins they forgive are forgiven, and whoever’s sins they retain are retained, but I put that on the backburner for a while.
Around two years ago I started getting really into Christian apologetics, and was taking seriously the precept to “Always be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). I was at work learning how to prove my own beliefs, and disprove others; such as atheists, Mormons, and Jehovah’s Witnesses. This was also around the time that Justice Amy Coney Barrett was nominated to the Supreme Court, and the media constantly bashing her for being a phrase I had never heard of; a “Charismatic Catholic.” Certainly Catholics were much too formal to have any charismatics? As I investigated, I learned that there were indeed Catholics exhibiting the same gifts of the Holy Spirit as I saw in Pentecostal Protestant communities. Not only could they not be the anti-Christ or whore of Babylon, they must actually be favored by God! This notion contradicted some of the anti-Catholic sentiments I had heard growing up, so I knew I must look deeper into it.
The rest is really history. One by one the Protestant doctrines I held that contradicted Catholicism fell. I found out about Catholic specific miracles I had never heard of before (Marian apparitions, Eucharistic miracles, incorrupt Saints, etc.), and saw that they make a very strong case for the Catholic faith in and of themselves. I also had a few supernatural experiences myself regarding Mary. I began looking into the early church fathers, and seeing all of the very Catholic things they said on apostolic succession, Mary, the Eucharist, and baptismal regeneration. In the Bible I began to see Catholicism more and more. Jesus establishes Peter as the rock in Matthew 16, paralleling the prime minister to watch over the kingdom while the king is away in Isaiah 22:22. John 6 seemed to undeniably affirm the real presence. Mary was found in Revelation 12 as the Queen of Heaven, and as the new ark of the covenant in the beginning of Luke’s Gospel. I knew I had to follow the evidence where it led, and started RCIA shortly after.
— Joshua Davis
St. James, Missouri
Today I am grateful to be an alcoholic and drug addict. At various times in an alcoholics anonymous meeting I’ve used the phrase “burned my life down.” I have “burned my life down” many times to varying degrees. I will spare the details of specific events throughout my life where God has stepped in and saved my life. Instead, I will share some of the events over the last three to four year period where I have consented to His Grace.
About four and a half years ago a series of unhealthy and egocentric decisions led me to being evicted from a house I was renting in a rural area of central Missouri. I thought it was a good idea to find refuge in an old farmhouse with no running water, toilet, bathroom or heat except for a wood burning stove. There was only one semi-livable room. It was fall and I was still able to work a couple days a week so I made enough money to stay full stocked with ample amounts of drugs, alcohol, cigs and a meager amount of food. A woman that I had a volatile relationship with stayed with me part of the time. I will call her Elizabeth. Living in a situation that any normal person wouldn’t stay the night was not only my new normal, but I thought it was romantic. To my thinking a series of unfortunate events led me to my mother’s basement in St. Louis by the dead of winter. I was finally determined to get sober although I had been half heartedly at times trying for the previous three years. For the next three months I tried with short periods of sobriety. But it was Tim’s will and program and not God’s.
Fast forward to May and my decision to say screw it and find myself while kayaking for a few weeks on the river. Back in the country at my drug dealer buddy’s trailer I would start out. Then a car crash where I rolled the vehicle four times and miraculously walked away with some broken bones and temporary internal injuries. Naturally, I didn’t go to a hospital or doctor. So instead of kayaking and finding myself, I found myself homeless again, this time in a tent by a creek with no water unless it stormed. You would think that should have been a strong enough sign that I had to give up control. The five or six times in jail over the previous three years and numerous times getting fired and other events that I don’t want to go into failed to loosen my grip, but this should have. Drug consumption increased to absurd levels. Like they weren’t before? I found myself with no kids, no girl, no car, no job, no money, no home, no real relationships, but I did have access to all the dope I could do.
Three months later walking down a dark gravel road with a billion stars in the sky I broke down. I had been broken before but this felt different. I made a decision — to stay clean and pass a drug test in order to get a job at a place that fired me a year earlier. But I failed after being clear for nine days. That shouldn’t have happened, or so I thought. The type of drug I was doing doesn’t stay in your system that long unless you are doing a ton of it. But after 21 days I passed, and only God knows why they hired me back part time even after I broke my foot the day before I was to start. God had lifted the obsession to use even though there was dope all around me.
There were so many times God stepped in during the 60 days at the dope house before another miracle happened. I was able to move into the basement of Elizabeth’s grandmother’s house. I went to an AA meeting in Vienna, MO and got a sponsor. This time I relied entirely on God. I had been beaten and utterly defeated. I followed my sponsor’s directions, not my ideas. I had to trust God completely.
In the two years and eleven months since my last drink my old life is unrecognizable from my life now. Two of my children, Elizabeth, and three dogs live with me in a house I rent. I have a truck and the best job I ever had. The three jobs I had since getting sober have prepared me for the one I have now. I had to learn through experiences and how to handle them with God as my guide. Not all were pleasant. But they were lessons God knew I had to learn to do His work.
Why am I grateful to be an alcoholic and drug addict? Not everyone gets reduced to the point where God is the only thing left. The funny thing is He’s been there all along. I just couldn’t see it.
— Richard McCarthy
Columbia, MO
Healing
My name is Rory, I am a junior and 16, nearly 17, years old. On November 19th of 2024, I suffered a serious concussion. I passed out in my anatomy class and hit my head three times on metal (kind of a pathetic concussion story I know.) For two months I struggled with severe dizziness and was unable to walk further than a quarter of a mile. I was unable to attend school the rest of the semester.
After Christmas I started to recover from my concussion. Then on January 11th I caught some flu-like disease, but never got tested for what it was. Slowly after that I felt myself worsening. It started with severe dizziness and barely being able to get around school then progressed into something worse. No one would have guessed how severe my condition was by looking at me, and lots of people were wondering why I kept cancelling plans, or not showing up to school or lifeteen. The truth is I was struggling to even walk anywhere.
At this point the doctors thought I had a concussion (this was January to the beginning of February). They started to treat me for my concussion by giving me medications and sending me to physical therapy. All of these things only worsened my condition and left me hopeless. Around Valentine’s day I was unable to even get from my bedroom to downstairs in my kitchen. It felt like some invisible force was knocking me over whenever I walked. I also had trouble speaking, I was slurring my words and forgetting things such as how to start our dishwasher, my siblings’ ages, or how to maintain eye contact in a conversation. I continued to decline to the point I could no longer sit up on my own and had to crawl around my house to get around. We thought I had a tumor or brain bleed.
On February 28th my parents took me to the E.R. since things had gotten so bad, and after 9 hours there it was revealed I had no tumor or brain bleed, but doctors didn’t know what was happening. I was unable to get into any doctors in Columbia until the end of April and felt hopeless. I missed around three weeks of school. Since I could no longer walk my parents got me a wheelchair for school; however, I could only stay sitting up for so long so was unable to get through more than two class periods at school. I was in such a low place not being able to run track, see my friends, and just perform basic day-to-day activities.
My parents managed to get in contact with two neurologists, a concussion specialist, a cardiologist, and my pediatrician. No one could agree on what I had. They suggested it was a chronic issue, a rare brain infection, brain damage, a severe concussion still, or Orthostatic Hypotension which was the best case scenario since it’s a temporary blood pressure condition where blood drains from your brain but it fades eventually. I felt hopeless at this point. I was at such a low point and wondering why God was allowing this to happen to me when other teenagers didn’t have to go through this. I wanted to give up completely on my faith.
I also got started on this medication that was supposed to help treat the blood pressure issue, but if it didn’t work after a few weeks the doctors were going to assume it was something more severe. After a week the medication wasn’t working, so we upped the dosage. After 24 hours it still wasn’t working and I was beginning to freak out. My parents were discussing putting me on a strong depression medication at this time due to how depressed and angry I had gotten.
That’s when Mrs. H invited me to Y Disciple on March 14th. She asked everyone there to place their hands on me and pray over me. Three hours later I was walking almost normally. Between November 19th and March 14th, there were only three weeks where I had been able to walk “normally” (normal as in I could walk a mile without falling over). The doctors were in shock because A) it meant that I didn’t have any of the more severe conditions but rather the Orthostatic hypotension and B) I recovered faster than I was supposed to from the Orthostatic Hypotension. Since March 14th I have been walking almost normally and am starting to make a full recovery.
— Rory
I experienced a great improvement in my right knee pain, which has been painful for a few years since tearing my medial meniscus and some sub-patellar (knee cap) cartilage for a 5th time. I have had 3 surgeries on this knee and know I have bone on bone areas. Well…while on a healing prayer call with the Encounter Ministry team about a month ago after attending the Encounter Ministry retreat in Kansas City in late January. While the team prayed over a Zoom meeting for my knee, I felt a sudden, painful and sharp stabbing in my knee. I had quietly been listening, but yelled “OUCH!” Unexpectedly! It HURT as if I was struck by lightning or pierced with a fire-hot poker! My knee then felt odd/different, and the next morning felt good without swelling. The lead person on the call said, “your cartilage is going to grow back.”
Since that time, I have been walking at work when able to get outside on breaks and have begun doing weight-bearing exercises at the gym which I have not been able to do for two years! It’s fun, and feels good to be so much more active again.
— Amy
After becoming a severe alcoholic and drug addict, I thought my life would soon be over. I didn’t expect to live past 30, and I almost didn’t. At the age of 22, I nearly died from alcohol poisoning, and I sustained a traumatic brain injury as a result. The pain was overwhelming, and it never went away. For seven years after the fact, I was bedridden. Having seen numerous doctors, received endless medical tests, and been placed on a host of medications, I saw no way out. I was stuck somewhere between giving up and fighting just to take each next breath.
Then I hit rock bottom. I told God I couldn’t do it anymore. He could either take my life or heal me, but it had to change. Sobbing, and feeling the weight of my entire life pressing down on me, I closed my eyes and gave Him my life. He decided to take my life AND heal me.
What happened next is hard to explain. I was allowed to see my life up until that point, but from the perspective of how it actually happened, rather than from my own point of view. God showed me how my anger had ruined my life, and how I had caused so much pain for others because of my anger. He showed me that each person in life brings their own trauma to the table in their interactions with me and that, if I could have seen this, I had a chance to have compassion for them and help them, rather than destroy myself and spread suffering.
So when I say He took my life, He did. He showed me that my life is not about me, it’s about the person next to me. In so doing, the Divine Healer remedied my spiritual illness and gave me strength to pursue what was necessary to become physically well. I experienced all of this and more, while understanding that God was totally forgiving me and that He loves me.
I have been sober from alcohol for over a decade, and I stopped my last addictive medication in 2017. I started working again in 2018. I have since begun to see my family again, and God has placed good friends in my life.
When I lost everything, Jesus was there. I was held in the arms of Love and Mercy Himself.
— Jon W.
My name is Lisa LoPorto, and this is my story. I had my second brain bleed on May 20, and my husband drove me to the hospital. I knew from the pain that it was bad. I just kept saying, “Jesus, help me! Jesus, help me!” Then, when I began to lose consciousness, I began to pray, “Jesus, forgive me! Jesus, forgive me!”
I have no memory of arriving at the hospital. A priest arrived to give me Last Rites. There was a period when I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep. I knew it would be easier to die, and I felt the presence of past relatives. Then God let me know I would be my choice—that I could pass on or stay alive. I said, “No, Larry needs me.”
When I came to, I was intubated and strapped down on my bed. I felt that I couldn’t breathe, and it was as if I was on the cross. Then I heard Jesus’ voice in my head. “Do you see what I endured for you?” he said. “Do you understand what I’ve done for you?” I felt invited to share his suffering. Then I realized the hospital was like a cathedral. My priest told me about a priest who said each patient was like a bead in a rosary.
I’d planned to go on a retreat that weekend. It was to be organized around humility. But now I was learning about humility in a different way. When I was no longer intubated, I learned that I’d lost twenty pounds. I also found that it was impossible for me to swallow. I was told I couldn’t go on to rehab until I could manage to do that. Then a Eucharistic minister came in and gave me a guided meditation. She asked me to try swallowing a little piece of the Eucharist. It was the first thing I could swallow, and I feel that it healed me. I could swallow anything after that.
I feel that I’m alive because of the Eucharist, and the ministries of the Eucharistic minister and the priest. I feel blessed that I survived. Now I’m sharing my healing story.
— Lisa LoPorto
Columbia, MO
Update:
I want to tell you that Jesus is real. The Eucharist is really the body,blood, soul and divinity of Jesus the divine healer is real.
Here is my story.
I suffered a small stroke in 2015. Fr. Richard Litzau was pastor then. He and Sister Karen visited me while I recovered. It took about three months but I went back to work. I had no consequences then.
Fast forward to 2023. I had another stroke. This time it was very serious. In fact, I wasn’t expected to make it. Larry rushed me to Boone Hospital. I lost consciousness in the car. I remember saying over and over “ Jesus be with me”. Before I lost consciousness I remember saying “ Jesus forgive me”
All went black. I was told later that I was taken into surgery . I had a hemmoragic stroke. I had an AVM.
Because of the blood that was filling up my head cavity, my brain had shifted. Larry called my sister saying I might die that night. My sister told Larry to call my pastor. She started a prayer chain with my family. Fr Dan came to the hospital and prayed over me. I survived. When I woke up I was intubated and my arms were tied down so I would not pull out my tube. I remember hearing a voice in my head say “ Do you not see what I have done for you? I couldn’t breathe either. I could not move either.” Then I heard”this is my Cathedral .” I understood the voice was Jesus. The cathedral was Boone Hospital. I was to pray for the patients and all that worked there.
I don’t know how long I was in the hospital. The stroke affected my right side. Also, I lost twenty ponds because I could not swallow ( not a diet I recommend!) Sandy Dierks came over with “ a little piece of Jesus” to swallow. She gave me the Eucharistic Lord and a meditation to pray. Healing happened. I could swallow anything afterwards. My husband,Larry saw what happened. He teared up. Then the nurse that works with me and does the swallowing test came in my room. See what God did there?
After two years of prayers and being on the prayer list at Mass and in the bulletin, I’m still making progress everyday. I walked with Larry on the MTK trail that ends downtown by campus. I walked and saw crosses on the trail in the form of twigs just for me.. I still see them. I take pictures of them and point them out to my husband. I still can’t drive because of equilibrium and balance issues but I pray with expectant faith that I will be completely restored.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to tell my story to whomever will listen.
P. S. I recently went for a follow up visit to Barnes Jewish hospital. I had an ablation done on my AVM last year. I went for an angiogram. What was to take an hour and 1/2. took thirty minutes. The Doctor doing the procedure could not find anything.
I am still in complete shock and awe. Praise Him!
In March of 2015 my husband and I learned we were expecting our fourth child. This was an unexpected, yet welcome blessing.
When we reached the 20 week appointment and biophysical ultra-sound, my doctor sent me to the Women’s and Children’s clinic in Columbia because they had better facilities and our insurance would cover it. The appointment was uneventful, we didn’t even meet a doctor. Just an ultrasound tech, and us. We learned we would be having a boy. In this day and age with doctor offices and hospitals having patient portals it is not unusual for test results to show up there before a doctor calls about them.
As was the case with our ultrasound results. I was at work when I saw the email saying ‘test results have been posted on your portal’ and I clicked on it not expecting it to say anything out of the ordinary. Shortly after reading what was on the report I immediately looked to Google for help. ‘Dolichiocephaly with early craniosyntosis’. As I was hitting print my phone rings and it is my doctor calling. She knew immediately I had already seen the test results, she apologized for those being posted before she had a chance to call us and speak with us. She told me not to panic, not to Google it (too late) and we set up a time to come back into her office to discuss what would happen now.
Upon that visit she explained what the diagnosis could mean, the worst of it and the not so bad. Her first question upon us was….’ do you want to continue with this pregnancy?’. Now my heart already knew what my answer was, but I honestly did not know what my husband would say….I mean this wasn’t ever something we had ever talked about. And before I could utter a word he answered for both of us…’yes, we are going to continue’. And from there we along with our doctor started planning.
My care and the baby’s care would transfer to St. Louis as they are better equipped for this. We would have to schedule a C-section and the baby would immediately be transferred to a NICU and most likely be sent into his first surgery to start correcting/helping what they could. As time grew closer and with further testing we would learn more about what how badly our son would be affected and what steps we would be taking and when. We had another ultra sound scheduled for 28 weeks.
As reality of the situation set in and the life our little boy could possibly be facing I remember thinking to myself that I had never prayed specifically for him to be healthy. We had always said the standard, we don’t care if we have a boy or a girl as long as they are healthy…..but I didn’t PRAY for it. I took it for granted. I started praying then, not for a miracle, but for God to make me the mommy this little boy would need. He was going to need a good one. One better than I had been.
My husband and I kept this situation to ourselves. There were so many unknowns and we didn’t want to be bombarded with questions we wouldn’t yet be able to answer. It seemed like forever waiting for that next ultra-sound appointment.
When the day finally came, we were back in Columbia, and again we never saw a doctor, just a technician. And she never said a word about the previous ultra sound. She took all the normal pictures and when it became obvious to us that she was finished we finally asked….what about the craniosyntosis and the dolichiocephaly?? She said everything looked fine to her, she would send it to the doctor for reading but it was probably ‘just a bad picture’ last time. Talk about stunned….we left not knowing what in the world was happening.
The following day my doctor called and said she had spoken to the doctor in Columbia and after both of them reviewing both sets of scans they were in agreement that the first set were indicated the diagnosis but the second set showed no issues, and maybe it was just a ‘bad angle’ in that first ultra sound; and our little boy was going to be just fine.
I cannot even explain the myriad of emotions that came that day, and yet the little bit of fear still lingering….what if…. Fast forward to December of that year when we became parents (for the final time) of a teeny tiny perfectly perfect little boy.
On New Year’s Day I received a message from a dear friend. He simply said, ‘at the beginning of last year I picked a couple of people I knew and vowed to pray for them every day of the year. I wanted you to know that I chose you as one of those people and I hope that God touched you in some way last year, and that his continued blessings carry you through this one.’
I know that man saved my baby, and God worked through him and gave us a miracle. He never even knew our baby was sick, and he prayed anyway. God is a great healer and He is good. Every day.
— Laura Alderson
My home growing up never included any talk about God. I remember asking my mother when I was little if there was a god. She was combing her hair and she said that she supposed so. It just did not seem to matter to her. So when I became a Christian in my early teens it surprised me that what did not matter actually became a sore point between me and my parents. However, after a few years my mother gradually became a little more open, but never enough to even attend a single service let alone become a disciple.
Then she suffered a very painful accident. She was thrown from a horse, landed on her back, and ended up in the hospital for a couple of days. When she was released, she arrived home with a metal brace that extended from the top of her torso to the bottom. The doctors said there was a damaged vertebra, she would probably be in pain for the rest of her life, and that her best hope of relief would be to continually wear the brace. She was an active person. The accident proved to be a life changing event.
One night, in incredible pain, she asked me for a back massage. I was afraid of hurting her more so I asked if she would pray with me for healing instead. She said with not a little bit of scorn that she did not believe in things like that. But when she realized that prayer was the best I could do, she acquiesced. And after prayer she hobbled off to bed.
The next morning I was awakened by an excited mother. She was in my room beaming and excitedly saying, “It worked! It really worked! I woke up and all the pain was gone. I moved around and there wasn’t anything!” Then she left my room with a big grin.
So there it was…an unbeliever being instantaneously healed by God from a physical injury from which doctors said there was no hope of ever being normal. She was in church the next service, crying from joy on the front row. For her it was too good to be true. It really worked.
— Sue Yarbrough
Columbia, MO
Consolation
I am humbled to have been asked to share my experience at the recent Marian Conference in St. Louis. My wife and I have been blessed the last two years to have attended this conference. The real life experiences shared by priests and lay persons were so affirming of our belief in the power of the Holy Spirit to convert souls, and of the efficacy of intercessory prayers of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
It’s impossible to encapsulate the weekend experience into a few short paragraphs, but here are some take aways: the Rosary is a weapon against evil. Since its inception it has been used literally to defeat evil in earthly manifestations of spiritual warfare as in the Battle of Lepanto. Miracles large and small continue to this day. At last year’s conference the stigmata appeared on the hand of the priest while blessing salt of exorcism! (I have the photo to prove it!) The denial of objective proof – relativism and rationalization – leads to culture of death: abortion and genocide.
The Marian Conference is full of spiritual experiences which can be shared by married couples as well as individually. It includes inspiring speakers, daily mass, rosary and time for Eucharistic Adoration and reconciliation. The presentations and even the sung Rosary literally brought me to tears on several occasions. Meals and breaks provide an excellent opportunity for sharing faith experiences. If you seek an opportunity to deepen your faith and understanding of Catholic teaching, I encourage you to check out the Marian Conference St. Louis on line.
— Dan Fischbach
Columbia, MO
In September 2004, my son, age 20 was in a car accident that resulted in a severe brain injury. After a month of induced coma, he awoke. He was unable to walk, talk or eat by mouth. His internal injuries were catastrophic.
The hospital he was in was Sacred Heart, a Catholic run organization, which had a priest and chapel in residence 24 hours a day. I thank God for that everyday! One day as I sat by my son’s bedside reciting the Rosary and pleading to my Lord and our Lady for complete healing, I was overwhelmed by the desire to go to Chapel. As I entered my thoughts were not my own, and I ran up to the sanctuary and prostrated myself on the floor below the Altar. I silently cried out “Please, Lord God! With every ounce of strength within me, please heal my precious son! Can’t You see how much suffering he is going through?”
At that very moment, I felt a warmth over me and the wakening by the presence of God the Father, who filled me with the thoughts of Jesus’ mother at the foot of the cross. He said to me, “My precious child, hold on to your Blessed Mother, who suffered greatly, with her son‘s torture and death! She will be your comfort and the best intercessor, on behalf of your son! Find strength through her! She knows your pain!” I was immediately comforted knowing I had someone who really knew my circumstances, and the aloneness and helplessness I felt! Someone who I could identify with, who understood! Someone who could recognize the amount of pain my son was suffering! I felt a peace from that moment on, that God was definitely in control!
My devotion to Mary has been one of thanksgiving and much gratitude to this day! My faith took giant leaps through that experience and continues to be strong and devoted to this day. Thank you, Jesus, my Lord and Savior! The gift of Your Blessed Mother, at that specific moment WAS truly a God send!
—Dawn Crow
North Bend, Oregon
On April 25, 2022 I had hip replacement surgery at Boone Hospital. I was the first surgery that morning with Dr. Anz, the surgeon, at 7:00 a.m.
I woke up during surgery a little before 9:00 a.m. I felt a pounding on my hip. The anaesthesiologist asked me if I felt pain. I said no. She said that they were finishing up and when they were finished I would be taken to recovery. She left and I saw the vision of The Divine Mercy. I thought Divine Mercy was the day before I closed my eyes and opened them again. The vision was still there but only for a few seconds and Jesus was gone. I felt the Divine Mercy was letting me know everything was going to be all right.
That afternoon Dr. Anz came into my hospital room and said, “When I asked you how long have you had pain and you said over 20 years, I found a severe tear in the muscle holding the hip. It was an old tear that never healed and there was a lot of scar tissue.” He said that he tried to mend it the best he could and that my recovery would be longer. It takes eight weeks to heal a tear of the muscle.
I shared my vision with Dr. Anz and he said that it was a first for him. He had not heard of any of his patients having a vision like that.
Because of that vision, I bought a picture of Divine Mercy and it is enthroned in our home. Truly there is a God.
— Doris Schmidt
Columbia, MO