Stories of Healings and Testimonies are not to be taken as medical
advice. Always consult your doctor for medical problems.
| Three generations of Blindness Healed | Miracle Baby and St. Gerard | Guardian Angel by my bed | God is in the Details | Chiropractor Cracks the Hard Case |
Three generations of Blindness Healed
Testimony for Healing Masses
One day, I was reading to my 6 year son about Daniel Boone, one of the early pioneers of the west. As I read this story to him, two things happened. First some other important motherly duty was happening and calling me, and second, I asked him to grab a paper off the floor for a bookmark. He did grab the paper, and as I shoved it into the book, I did a double-take, because the paper was from our junk mail, and it was a prayer to St. Odelia, patron of blindness. The reason that I did a double-take was that the place in the book that I had stopped reading was about Daniel Boone finding herbs for an Indian with sore eyes. Then I got this feeling, and it was a peaceful presence. So I thought now who in our family is in need for healing for eyes? And then I thought of my 89 year old grandmother, who my mother was very concerned about because Grandma was struggling both with Alzheimer’s and with high eye pressure, which can lead to blindness.
So, I called my mother, and told her that I thought that Grandma had received a healing for blindness. Now, you have to know that I have never before or since called my mother to proclaim that anyone was healed; it was the highly unusual sequence of events that had prompted me to make the call. I had learned that in order to actually be healed, we need to “claim” it. So if things even look remotely like a healing, then we just need to claim what ever progress has been made. Well, we had asked for a series of masses be said for our family for generational healing, and this generational blindness was not something that we really thought to ask for healing for, because there were many other issues that seemed more important. So, when I said this to my mother, she was both hopeful and skeptical. She said “Well, we will see. I need to take her to the doctor tomorrow because yesterday I had taken her and the doctor said her eye pressure was dangerously high. I am taking her to the Doctor tomorrow again.” It turned out that Grandma had not taken her medication for her eyes for some several months due to forgetfulness, and the doctor felt that because of the length of time that had elapsed in not taking the medication, that there was a good chance that she could go blind. Macular Degeneration causes blindness, and that is what my Grandmother has.
I was born with a mild form of color blindness, and mine had to do with the color pink. I could see reds just fine, but pale pinks looked like white or grey to me. I could see every other color pretty much the same as most folks. My father, uncles and both grandfathers were born with color blindness. For these men, colors for them that are fine are the blues and yellows, some reds and greens. Usually reds and greens look like grey or brown or green or red. Somehow my brother escaped this plight, and both I and my sister inherited some mild problems. My grandmother has macular degeneration, which has to be monitored very carefully with medication.
“And the Blind See...”
The first person in the generations to be healed was my grandmother. The very next day, my mother took her to the doctor, who proclaimed my grandmother’s eye pressure to be only one point above normal, which was a dramatic healing for her. We were so grateful, as my Grandmother has Alzheimer’s, and being blind at the same time would be terrible. Several months after this first knowing that Grandma would be healed, I took my four-year-old son and friend to the Magic House. This is a special museum in St. Louis that is very popular with visitors from out of town. Many hands-on exhibits intrigue adults and children alike. While there for the probably hundredth time, we stopped to look at the charts for color blindness, and we had done for all of our other visits. Previously, I would cheat and read the solution, or answer, of the letter or number hidden in the green and red dots. On this day, I could see! I was stunned! It was as if a switch had turned on. “And the blind see...” kept going through my mind over and over again. All the letters and numbers very clearly jumped out at me. I excitedly shared this with my little son, but of course he did not comprehend what had happened to me.
That night, with enthusiasm undying, I called my parents to share my joy. Imagine my surprise when my mother told me that the last time my completely color-blind father went to the Magic House (in the past month), he was able to see all the numbers save one! So he too, was partially healed of color-blindness!
So, this is how the Lord showed us the tremendous power of the generational healing masses, and how our family was healed through three generations for blindness. We are so grateful to Fr. Hampsch and his cohorts who say these masses for people.
I was heavily pregnant with my sixth child. My due date was approaching, but I was not too concerned that the child would come early. The other five never came early, so why would this one? They were always at least a week late. My contractions were 3-4 minutes apart for at least a day, and I busied myself cleaning the house and making homemade soup for some reason. I think they call that reason nesting, and it seemed to affect me more than once when I was about to give birth. It was a state of excitement, preparation, and anticipation, much like one feels when the air has the scent of snow, and the sky is grey, and at any time, a beautiful snowflake may fall down as the first in the season.
My husband knew better than to try to make soup with me, as he knew I was both contracting and nesting, and he knew that if he did not go to bed, then two people would not get any sleep. So, I labored on this soup of love, making it completely homemade, and several times kept thinking that I should forget it and go to bed, then I knew that this soup would get wasted. So finally, at something like 2:00a.m, I laid my weary bones down to bed. We had a waterbed at that point. I slept like an absolute rock for one hour, then, oh know, something was happening that never had happened to me before: my water broke! We both knew that we had better hurry to the hospital, because they all come quick once that happens, so off we went, my husband thankful that at least he got a few hours of sleep.
I was one who stubbornly refused to try an epidural. I am not really sure why. It just seemed too scary to me, and even though I knew that the risks were small, I just could not bring myself to do it. So, this time I had studied extensively the Bradley method, and we had worked with a coach who was also a doula. We had a birth plan this time, and I was surprised that we had to bring our own tape player, so that we could play the music that we wanted, because everyone always watched TV when the baby was being born. So, I pretty much planned that it would be all natural, and that I did not want too many interventions. A friend of ours had a relic of St. Gerard, who is the patron saint of mothers, and we had borrowed it. When we went to the hospital, we brought it with us, and I kept it near my heart and above the baby, during the whole delivery. The doctor was further away from the hospital than we were, and thank God, that night he was already there.
Earlier in the pregnancy, the baby seemed to stop moving as much as my other five children, who were very active in utero. I mentioned this to our Doctor, and he ran a test strip, which he looked at and said that everything was fine and to not worry. So I did not, but I knew that this was different than my other pregnancies.
Well, it was a good thing that the Doctor was already in the hospital, because when it was time to give birth, the baby came a little faster than we all thought. I told the nurse to get the intern, because I was so ready to give birth, and at that point I did not care who caught the baby. The nurse looked at me with a quizzical look, and said, well we don’t have any interns, then she grabbed the doctor who happened to be running into the room at that moment. He came in and delivered the baby, and when he was born, our precious Joseph, the doctor proclaimed him to be a miracle baby. I was amazed as we looked upon the cord, which was tied in a tight knot. Dr. Dixon told us that the baby had done this in utero, about six months ago. This was when Joseph had significantly slowed his activity down. He also had had the cord around his neck, and without any monitors or any intervention he was born quickly and safely, with my relic of St. Gerard near my heart. It was like the angels and the Blessed Mother held him in utero for six months so that he would not move too much. One false move, and he would have been brain damaged or dead. A miracle baby indeed, with a little help from St. Gerard!
Help in times of trouble
One time I was going through a very tough time in my life. I mean, I don’t think that really most people have ever been as down as I have been. I suffer with jags of faith daily, and I frequently say “I believe Lord, assist me in my unbelief!” like Peter when he was walking on the water and started to sink. During this time of great difficulty and darkness, there were nights that I could not even go to sleep because I did not think that there even was a God. For I had suffered so much...
On this particular night, I anointed my head with holy oil, and lay down to go to sleep. My eyes were half open, and I felt someone to my left. There was no one else in the room. I could see, very vaguely, in a faint outline form, my guardian angel kneeling next to my bed, with his head bowed. I have no idea why my angel was kneeling, but I thanked my angel for being there for me, especially during this time of acute darkness in my life. The angel was facing the north wall of our bedroom, where my crucifix hangs on the wall. It was like when my eyes were half-closed I could see the angel clearly, but when I opened them all the way I could not.
I teach my children to say this prayer about our angels:
“Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here, ever this night (day), be at my side, to light, to guard, to rule, to guide.Amen.”
The setting for this story is in
the days before cell phones. Although
the day was grey outside, my heart was happy because an old friend was going to
come visit us, so I busied myself in getting the house tidied up and ready for
some visitors.
As a new home-schooling mom, I very
much enjoyed being with my new family.
My girls were really too young to be home-schooled just yet, but I was
meeting up with a friend of mine who had introduced the idea to me. At this point, we had a family of four, my
husband and I and two precious little girls, my daughters being 3 years and 18
months. My friend, Kate also had a
little girl. Kate and I had met in a
mid-western college, where we both got our bachelors degrees. Kate is the daughter of a minister, and was
always very soft-spoken but firm. Her
dark brown eyes always show how intent she is with trying to please the
Lord. I still remember the day we spoke
on the phone, and she shared with me about home-schooling. The whole concept was completely foreign to
me. Yet she inflamed in me this
desire....
Our appointment was to get together for lunch at my house at 11:00a.m., and sometimes it takes a while to get two little children and new Mom up and ready in any reasonable time. I knew Kate enjoyed good food like I did, and starting thinking about what I was going to serve them. It was maybe 10:00am when I realized that really they were coming for lunch, and I did not have any fresh veggies. I wanted to make this stir-fry recipe, and I needed more vegetables.
We had a fresh vegetable stand that was about 15 minutes away real time. However, when you do the math , and add up the time it takes my two little girls, Melissa and Rachel, who were both in diapers, then add getting into the car twice, and getting out of the car twice, standing in line, well all of this very quickly added up to an hour. I did not want Kate and her little one to arrive at our house from out-of-town and us not be there. I did not want to leave a note on the front door indicating that we were gone, because I thought that it was imprudent and giving out too much free information for any passers by. I did not want to offend her, and I so much wanted to be able to make a special lunch for all of us. So, even though it was 10:00, and I would be cutting it real close, I decided to risk it and run out to the vegetable stand. I put some vague note on the door anyway, and we all rushed out with a prayer.
Our trip to the veggie stand was uneventful. I always loved going there, and standing in the fresh air, watching all the people rushing about, some carefully contemplating their pick, and even a few haggling about the prices. My girls were as good as gold, and I can still see myself looking at the bin of colorful peppers, and selecting first this one, then that. I bought broccoli, garlic, pea pods, mushrooms (always pick the closed ones, they keep longer). I also purchased some other vegetables, each time, although being careful to choose quality, I had quickly determined how much to grab and which ones, because I wanted no delay. When Linda added up how much I owed, I did a double-take. For me it spoke volumes, and when she told me how much it was, I could really feel God’s presence. I owed her $7.77. We both laughed when she told me, but I was amazed that my angel had guided my hand to each and every vegetable, and picked up exactly the ones the Lord ordained so that I could learn a lesson.
I can still see that brown bag that she did her math on, and I had bought no small number of all kinds of vegetables. It filled me with awe to think that my angel guided me to those vegetables. What if I had chosen to get one more mushroom? Or less broccoli? When I think of the statistical odds of just randomly going about and coming up with this number, I think that it is almost impossible. The last thing on my mind was price, I knew they were all good deals, I just wanted to hurry so I could arrive home before Kate. I was guided through my whole grocery list, with the desire to feed my guest good food, and it just pleases me so much to think that SOMEtimes my guardian angel and I are like one.
To me, the 7.77 was symbolic of God. The Bible is filled with so many examples and analogies of the number seven and God. I knew then that the Lord guided me and wanted to say “I am with you always, even in the little things.” And “Trust in Me.” And “Who is it that added one day to their life by worrying?”
Of course, we arrived home with plenty of time to spare. It turns out that Kate was running late. And of course she would not have rushed off without seeing me. By the way, she loved our lunch...
Chiropractor cracks the hard case
When I was a young mom, I had two little girls, with another baby on the way. I was actively involved in a Christian Church program for mothers and children. I felt I had really fallen away from my Christian Catholic roots while participating in this group. Being an outspoken person at the time, they selected me to be a leader in the group. After doing this for about a year, the leaders were all meeting on a Saturday. I had my small Dodge Colt, and had three very small children in the back. My girls were 3 and 2, and my son was 8 months.
It had started to rain after a very long dry spell. This event happened prior to anti-lock brakes. I was driving down a very large hill. At the top, I saw an accident at the bottom of the hill. Feeling sorry for those folks, and yet traveling down-hill, it took me several seconds to realize I was in trouble also. Even though I had the length of two football fields to stop, the road was slicker than ice. I tried pumping the brakes, and nothing happened. I assessed the situation at the bottom of the hill, and laid my hand on my horn to warn the people at the bottom, while I tried to turn into the next lane. I figured, if I ran the light down there, probably no one would be coming down this side street that was rarely used. It was so strange. My steering wheel locked up also, and would not allow me to steer by going into the other lane. I truly believe to this day that the Lord allowed me to run into these poor people at the bottom of the hill.
Fortunately, we were all intact. My children were all fine. The other people appeared fine. I was distraught. I had no cell phone, although very few people did have them then. I flagged down a sweet soul who let me call my husband. Carrying my baby around in the car seat, plus being in the accident itself, radically threw my back out.
My mother recommended that I go to this Chiropractor that
she went to in
Dr. Smith when he was working on me told me about this little saint just a block away who had her remains buried in a tomb in a church. He proceeded to then tell me how her body was incorrupt. I asked him what this meant. He then told me that this was a qualification for sainthood according to the Church. I later learned that he was incorrect about this part of his story, but what amazed me is that her body was incorrupt. This Dr. Smith used to be the coroner for the town. Anyway, his own father was asked to be the witness when St. Rose Phillipine Duschene was exhumed. When they opened the casket, her body was as fresh as if she had just fallen asleep. He said there was a fragrance there of some heavenly sort. This information just blew me away. I really didn’t believe in God, much less about some saint that even though was dead for a number of years, was incorrupt. I was pretty incredulous, but then he told me I could tour the church and view the pictures they took of her when they exhumed her body years later. This just amazed me. He then told me that if I went on a pilgrimage to her tomb, and said a prayer to her, especially on her feast day, that I would be granted special graces. Shortly after this visit with Dr. Smith, I returned to go visit this saint. I was granted an incredible favor. Two favors of extraordinary fashion. I can only say that they defied the natural laws of man. And of course the prayers that went with this visit were answered in short order. God went truly out of His way to show me that He is God and Lord over all, even things that are ludicrous to man.
The hard case to crack was me, and this doctor had a very profound impact on my life. I told this story to anyone who would listen, and it was amazing how I went from a non-believing person to a person filled with faith. Dr. Smith affected many people, and told all who would listen about St. Rose Phillipine Duschene.
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