The Sixth Street Bridge

The Sixth Street Bridge
At the tender age of 17, I walked across this bridge, alone, into Downtown Pittsburgh, with $300 in my pocket that my mother had given me to get an abortion. I went into the Fulton Building (in the picture) and did what I was told to do. I didn't have a choice - if I did, I wouldn't have chosen abortion.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Don't you love it when that happens?

Depends on what you're talking about.  There are lots of things that happen that I love a lot, and lots that I don't love at all.  As I spend more time on this journey though, I've become more and more aware, sometimes painfully, of who is really in charge, and of who wants to be in charge.  It's been a battle for sure.  I know after I publish this post, my hubby will say, "you didn't tell me that happened!"  And he'll be right, because usually it takes me a while to process through things in my own head before I can share in whatever way. 

Mother's Day, as I've written was difficult and blessed at the same time.  I think I'm beginning to realize even more, and this probably comes from me talking a lot to someone close to me about their need to return to The Church, that I am so in love with everything about being Catholic.  I love all of it.  So because of that love, I don't feel half as crazy as I would if I wasn't fully aware of what our God is truly capable of.  If He can forgive me of my sin of abortion, He can do anything.  Who am I to say something isn't possible because I can't prove it or see it or hold it in my hand?

So, let's get to the crazy part.  Whenever I am really struggling with things, and this is more of a chicken or the egg argument - I start to wage real warfare in my head which then starts to manifest itself physically in some ways whether it be fatigue, anxiety, depression, anger, fear, etc.  I'm getting better at recognizing this and stopping it with a quick prayer, a silent cry for help, an imaginary stop sign in my head.  More and more recently though, there have been positive outside influences that make themselves known - like last weekend at Mass when I heard that little voice.  I spent a good part of the week dismissing it, and then I'm reminded that this is not the first time that kind of thing has seemed to happen to me.  I'm not claiming to the be the "Long Island Medium," or some spirit conjurer.  I'm too chicken for any of that.  But, who I am to dismiss what He might be trying to get through my thick skull in a way that He knows will work?  So, as I accept it for what I believe it truly was, it settles into my soul and gives me strength. 

My Dad loves to tell the story about the time he saw two angels in a graveyard.  Clear as day they were and he will swear to it on his life that they were real.  And as he has sometimes walked away from the Church - always to return - he never, ever, lost faith in those two angels that he saw. 

Everyone has a story to tell that's similar, of something supernatural that they can't explain.  And I suppose I'm no different and perhaps my stories are just the same as everyone elses'.  I do have some doozies that will make the hair on your neck stand up or make you laugh out loud at me.  But I don't care.  I will take them for what they are and hold on to them and allow them to do whatever good they are supposed to do. 

So I can't help to think that last evening, another reassurance came to me and truly settled my soul at a moment where my mind started just to wander a bit to the would have, could have, should have, if only... thinking.  I was waiting for a concert to start where both of my children were participating.  As I saw them up on the stage and was filled with pride at their confidence, brains, and beauty... my mind started to go down the familiar path... there should have been three.  At that very moment, I felt a touch on my shoulder.  And it was a substantial tap, almost a slight squeeze, enough to make me turn my head to see who was trying to get my attention - there was no one.

Don't you love it when that happens? 

In a matter of a few more seconds, I turned back toward the stage and felt that it was okay, completely okay... for me to sit there and relish my two beautiful girls here on earth.   I had permission to enjoy the concert without a negative thought to be found in my head at all.

So, I don't know who it was that touched me, real or imaginary.  Grace?  My guardian angel?  A child in the audience playing a prank?  I don't know.  I don't care.  I got the message loud and clear. 

It's okay.

"But if these beings guard you, they do so because they have been summoned by your prayers." ~Saint Ambrose


  1. Sure, if we truly believe in InfiniteGrace... that his grace is unlimited... this is just a mere barest shadow of the true reality of his overwhelming, overabundant love for you... God is good!!!

  2. i do love when that happens...and I am happy for you that it did. May I ask where you attend in the 'burgh, that you love it so? I am not there anymore, but wish this same experience that I have here and you are finding for my family and friends there...

    Have a great Sunday.

  3. Yes, I love it when that happens! You're right, I have had similar experiences too. They are so real. And I know the feeling that people might laugh or look at me in disbelief, but I don't care. I know what I saw, felt, or heard, and it was real. ~Debbie