One aspect of the Church I have always found comforting is her timing. The Church makes proclamations of light and truth amidst the darkness and confusion of certain time periods. For instance, the specifics regarding Jesus’ natures within the Incarnation were not spelled out until the Council of Nicaea in the fourth century. It was timed as such because that is when confusion began to arise throughout the world. People within the Church were making the claim that Jesus was not fully Divine, but a sort of super-human (the heresy of Arianism). To combat this falsehood and confusion, the bishops made many official declarations at the conclusion of this council, one declaration specifically ironing out any confusion about Jesus’ two natures as both God and Man . . . because in the midst of darkness and confusion, the Church spreads light and clarity.
Similarly, in the thirteenth century, a priest found himself confused and doubting the True Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. This was during a time in Church history when many theologians were promulgating these doubts. God gifted this priest a profound answer to his doubt: a Eucharistic miracle during the moment of consecration while he celebrated Mass. This miracle, combined with the ongoing efforts of the mystic Saint Juliana of Mont Cornillon, led Pope Urban IV to institute the Feast of Corpus Christi universally just one year later . . . because in the midst of darkness and confusion, the Church spreads light and clarity.
My Own Time of Darkness
When I was nineteen years old, I found myself living in the darkest and most upsetting year of my life. An on-again, off-again manipulative relationship caused me to lose many friends and confuse my spiritual life. Without realizing it, I tied my perception of God to this abusive significant other who was constantly placing all fault on me. New to college and enrolled in a highly competitive nursing program, I was majorly stressed and struggling to keep up with its demands. Additionally, I knew no one in the city and was no longer surrounded by the close-knit family and small-town community which had supported me my entire life. I was a true mess, upset to the point where I thought maybe it would be better for everyone if I was just “gone.”
Already feeling unable to carry the load of all my wounds and burdens, another blow came into my life when I returned home for Christmas break. Catching up with my best friend over lunch one day, she shared shocking news with me regarding my little sister. Mary had started dating someone months prior and had been living a secret life laden with sin since then. This friend brought no judgment along with the delivery of the news, only serious concern for Mary’s well-being.
As I drove home from the restaurant I remember crying out to God and thinking, “Not this too! I can barely handle all the issues I’ve got.” I was angry and overwhelmed, and I had no idea what I was going to do. “Do I tell my parents? Do I talk to Mary first?” These were all streams of thought running through my head as I walked up the stairs to my bedroom.
The Holy Spirit made it clear, though, as Mary entered our shared bedroom only minutes after me. A question regarding all I had heard spilled out of my mouth. Mary, caught off guard, turned around to hang something in the closet before denying what I’d heard. As she turned around again I calmly asked her, “Why are you lying to me?” At that, Mary burst into tears and exclaimed, “Because I don’t want you to hate me!”
That was a pivotal moment in my life. It revealed God’s profound love in a way I had never experienced before. I held Mary, crying in my arms, assuring her of my unconditional love, and I realized how God feels about me—and all of us. Our sin does not diminish His love for us. Just as there was nothing Mary could ever do that would make me stop loving her, there is no sin so great that God stops, either.
Mary and I had a brief but direct conversation. She admitted faults, failings, and struggles to stop. I supported and empathized as best I knew how, while also encouraging her to keep struggling and fighting to break the cycle, reminding her that she was one of the strongest people I know.
“You aren’t going to tell Mom and Dad, are you?” Her tone suddenly became quite hostile.
“Not immediately,” I responded. “Only if things don’t get better.”
She looked at me with hatred in her eyes. “I will never speak to you again if you do,” she threatened.
The words cut like a knife, and my reply came out muffled:: “As much as that would kill me, I care a lot more about you being in Heaven than about you speaking to me in this life.”
Reconciliation and Prudence: Light Dawning
I don’t remember Mary’s response to that statement, but I do remember my mom calling up the stairs that she was headed to Confession and extending the invitation for people to join her. Once again, the Holy Spirit was leading, as I had no idea whether I had made the right decision and I needed spiritual guidance. Quickly, I ran down the stairs, out the door, down the street, and found myself in a confessional.
After receiving my penance, I asked Father for advice and spelled out the situation for him. Peace of mind flowed from his response:
“Do you remember that time in the Gospel that Jesus spoke to a situation like this?” he asked.
Obviously, I didn’t. He directed me to Matthew 18:15-17, which reads:
If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained that one. But if you are not listened to, take one or two others along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.
“You did what Jesus instructed,” my pastor assured me. “Take peace in that. Though teetering, she was somewhat receptive to what you had to say. And you did tell her that you would tell your parents if necessary. To me, it sounds like you are doing the right thing.”
Full of gratitude for the grace of the Sacrament and guidance, I did find peace. However, it also made way for another problem to arise: how was I going to help Mary? In a few weeks I’d be returning to campus and she would remain at home finishing up her senior year of high school. This was in the days prior to ample WiFiand free text messaging. Besides that, Mary did not yet have a cell phone. How would I know what was happening? More importantly, how could I assist her without being there?
Remembering a renowned Catholic speaker with a story similar to Mary’s, I reached out to him through his website asking him for help. His email response was incredibly fast:
“The Eucharist is the most powerful prayer we have on this earth—and the most powerful times are at the moment of consecration and the moment you receive. I would encourage you to go to Mass as often as you can, and pray for Mary during those two moments,” he advised.
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The Eucharist: My Light and Clarity
Desperate, I did exactly as he had suggested.
Despite my intense schedule, I was able to attend daily Mass every day. And every day I poured my heart out and pleaded for Mary at the moment the priest lifted the host and chalice. I did it again at the moment Jesus’ Precious Body and Blood touched my lips. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I repeated my prayer, entrusting my dear sister to the God who loves her more than I.
Gradually, things with Mary took a turn for the worse instead of improving. Issues popped up at school that led to a suspension, she repeatedly snuck out in the middle of the night, she even tried to run away at one point. After this, I knew it was time to tell my parents, and I phoned home revealing everything to my mom and dad. Their loving and firm action was immediate—and Mary erupted like a volcano.
In the following months, she was incredibly volatile. Our home was filled with torment and turmoil, and when Mary turned eighteen, she packed up her things and moved out.
Although Mary’s situation had essentially detonated, I realized something profound while sitting in Mass one day. Even with the chaos swirling around me, I was different. The Eucharist had changed me. I was healing from all my own deep personal issues. They weren’t completely resolved or gone—but I had found a source of peace. A remedy for much of my own anxiety, depression, and darkness. Most importantly, my twisted ideas about God and His love for me were being unraveled.
I continued to go to Mass and pray for Mary, and I began to tack on as many “extra” prayers as I could: Rosaries, Divine Mercy chaplets, Adoration, daily sacrifices, etc. I lifted Mary up constantly, praying continuously in every moment throughout the day. I had immense hope in God’s mercy and faithfulness.
Chains Broken: Return Home and Return to Rome
After months of turmoil and heartbreak, small victories arose. Most importantly, Mary returned home to live with my parents. Weeks later, her boyfriend thoughtlessly betrayed her, causing a blow that shattered their relationship beyond repair. Devastated, Mary was most surprised by our response. There was no “I told you so” or “serves you right” or anything of the sort. In truth, we were all heartbroken for her and she was caught off guard by our compassion.
A turning point for the entire family, there was still a long road towards healing, trust, and unison. We all continued the path of faith, seeking support from God’s grace to get us through it all. In time, we all healed, as individuals and as a family.
I continued to go to daily Mass, receiving the Eucharist as often as possible. I felt like I had found life’s secret to happiness: a source of power that could carry me through anything. In His Body and Blood, Jesus had not only saved my sister and restored my family, He had shown me love and faithfulness like I had never experienced before. He did not condemn me in my faults as my woundedness would have had me believing perpetually. Instead, He paid for them with His Blood and gave Himself to me as Daily Bread to sustain me. By His wounds, I was healed, restored, and renewed.
How great is our God!
Have you ever had a profound experience with the Eucharist? Share your story with us in the comments below!
Grace is a regular contributor to the BIS Blog. She had planned to be a nurse until an encounter with Christ in Confession ignited a spark that resulted in an ongoing career as a high school Theology teacher. Though a cradle Catholic, she continues to be amazed at the depth of peace and joy that can be found within the Faith and can’t help but share that passion with others as a teacher, writer, and speaker. Outside of ministry, she dabbles in a bit of everything, excels in almost nothing, and like most moms, cannot survive without at least one cup of coffee a day. Grace resides in Charleston, SC with her hunky husband and their daughter who looks just like him. You can find out more about her here. Read all of Grace's posts here.
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