Stories of Faith

July 3, 2024

Close to 40 years ago at my yearly retreat, I literally was “hit between the eyes” by God. I realized, as I never had before, God’s deep, personal, passionate love for me. I went into that retreat convinced God’s message to me would be “Shape up, Margaret!” but it was totally the opposite.

This retreat was a deeply transformative time for me, not only then, but even to the present day—I realized more deeply than ever before who God truly was. To try to explain this a bit more, I need to let you know about another experience that occurred at this same retreat. At the beginning of the retreat, each participant was given a rose. The one I received was a pink rose. The person next to me told me the symbolism connected to each rose’s color. She told me that a pink rose meant “to remember”.

This retreat was powerful for me—a real “God experience” unlike any before. But being me, I needed proof. Well, it most definitely came roaring forward like a storm in many forms. Literally, the homilies, the scripture given to me to pray over, the songs sung at Mass, etc. were the same message to me: “Remember, what you are hearing/experiencing Margaret is true. Believe.”

The day I left the retreat (my first pink rose had died by then) I was met by a friend carrying three pink roses! By the time these roses had died, another person plucked the last rose left in his garden for me. It was pink.

When that one died, school was just starting, and a student came rushing up to me that first day with a gift–a pink rose. Yes, you are getting the picture here. Literally, for almost six months (or more) every time my pink rose(s) died, another arrived to take its place. A miracle in my hand. Talk about the generosity of our God!

I remember walking into a religious goods store about six months after the retreat and finding a plaque with the words: “A Rose is God’s Autograph” and the color of the rose on the plaque? Pink, of course! A subtle reminder for me just in case I had forgotten or didn’t believe God’s message. Right?! His loving devotion to me continues to this day. I have since received pink roses at needed times of conviction and/or affirmation.

P.S. The message of the pink rose has slightly changed over the years. God has deepened it from “calling to mind and believe what I have said to you, Margaret” to “Help Me, Margaret, to re-member My people.” I do believe and embrace God’s call to being a “bridge-builder”—assisting persons who feel alienated from God, from the church, etc. to come back home to Him. This has been and continues to be my sacred gift God asks me to offer others on His behalf. Gladly, I remember and do so without any holy hesitation.

-Sister Margaret Johnson, O.S.U.

May 20, 2024

God is life. God is in our lives, and moves through our lives in everything and everyone we encounter, day and night. And most people don’t, or can’t, see God. Sometimes, our lives are moving so fast that we can’t see, hear, or feel God. Realizing that he is in our lives, in everything, is so critical for us to find joy in a life for God. It was a very long day. That started off with a very long morning. Me and my family left the house that day angry. Angry at each other for reasons we then thought were important. I made it through the day dragging my feet, wanting school to end, but not wanting to go home either. Finally, school ended, and I was free to go home. But first, I had to head to our school’s Hallissey practice. Hallissey is a Catholic tournament where catholic schools around the state of Idaho compete in basketball. I was not doing as well as I normally do. None of my shots were going in, and I was committing many turnovers and bad passes. At last, after a grueling hour, practice had ended. I was the last to leave. I stayed late to shoot around, trying to fix my shot. I believe that I had so much on my shoulders that it was affecting my gameplay, and how I handled the ball. After I was done, I quickly changed and grabbed my backpack, and walked out the door. I started walking down Lincoln Street, and I put my earbud in and tried to turn on my music. My music usually connects right away, but for some reason, it was taking longer than usual. I had walked almost all the way down Lincoln Street when it finally turned on. The first song that came on was called “Far Away” by Lecrae. This song is about how God is not far away, but really He is close. In many shapes and forms. As I turned left, to continue my walk home, I stopped and looked up. I looked at the sky, and the clouds, and the trees, and the sun. I felt the wind on my back, and I realized that I was being talked to. God was telling me that He is above everything, and that He is in everything, and that I will be okay as long as I recognize that God is not far away. As I continued on my path, I thought about how God is with me always, in everything I come across in my life, and that God is truly not far away.

-Jonah
St. Mary’s Catholic School Student

May 20, 2024

I looked for Steve to say good night.
When I found him, I walked over to him, and he turned to face me.

Again, that double take.
Again, it wasn’t our father turning to face me,
It was my brother.
You see, my brother looks exactly like our dad,
How he moved and walked and talked.
You see, my brother, like our dad,
And unlike me, isn’t a talker.
So, I blurt out: “I’m so glad I’m here, I’m so glad I stayed at your house, it was such a great
party, it was wonderful to see so many people who love and admire you, I’m so proud that I’m
your big sister.”

Then I stopped because I noticed him looking down at me
Looking down at me with our father’s eyes and smile.
And I did something different:
I stopped talking and I looked up at him.

It was like our father entered his body
And expressed his love and admiration for me,
Without saying a word.

So, I stood there before him,
he looking down at me and me looking up at him.
And I took it all in.
I took into my body their love for me.

The day Steve celebrated his retirement from a job he loved,
Running into burning buildings to save lives.
Eleven years, to the day, that our dad died.

Then he left Steve’s body,
And it was his eyes that looked down at me.

-Christine Meyer

This poem is about my younger brother Steve Wombacher on the occasion of his retirement from
being a firefighter and paramedic in the summer of 2023. It describes a spiritual experience in
which the Lord allowed me to experience the love of both my brother and our deceased father. It
was so significant; I was moved to write a poem about it. I believe that God sometimes allows us
to grieve our loved ones in this way, much like believers have experiences of apparitions of the
saints, especially of Mary. I even shared this poem with my five siblings, and they loved it,
including Steve, who said it was an honor that I wrote about him in this way.

May 09, 2024

The day was cool with a hint of color. The sun was full of life, cooling breezes swept leaves off
the ground. Birds were singing as they made their way South for the winter. It was fall. The year
was 2021.
I got a call from my grandmother asking if I could walk over and help her. It was something I did
a lot, so I didn’t really want to, but I accepted anyway because I needed to get out. As I began
my journey through the bittersweet streets of my hometown, I took a deep sniff of the afternoon
dew.
I continued to walk down street after street until I got to my grandmother’s house. She wanted
me to cook her a nice meal for her dinner. I cooked her some garlic chicken pasta, it was very
delightful, and she loved it. Once I had made her food, I proceeded to get her mail for her and
take out the trash.
After I finished helping my grandmother, I started to make my way back to my house when I
heard a faint noise in the distance. As I closed in on the noise it stopped, I looked all around to
see what was making the sound. I looked left and right, up and down; I saw it, sitting high up in
a tree. It was nothing but an owl minding its own business. Owls were not a common sight here;
they were quite rare. For a while I just stood and watched it.
Something felt different about this elegant creature. It had some sort of warm presence. I felt as
if it were watching me, protecting me as I passed. I continued to walk home appeased by its
presence. I felt like God was close and with me during this excursion.

-Cohen
St. Mary’s Catholic School Student

April 08, 2024

I have been attempting to do contemplative prayer. My spiritual director explains contemplative prayer as “wasting time before God”. The idea is to be quiet and love God and let God love you. That is it! Seems simple BUT it can be challenging especially when there are a million things going on in your mind and in your life.

One day, I was trying to relax and just be with God, but my mind drifted to thinking about my son Mark. Mark is considered a minimally speaking autistic person which means he can say words or phrases but may not actually mean what he is saying. In 2023, our family began a spelling journey with Mark. The ‘journey’ was to teach him to spell so he could communicate more verbally with others. At first, it was Mark and I in the spelling sessions and then Mark’s dad Henry joined in the learning last December. Please understand that speech is different than language. Yes, my son Mark can say certain words (speech), but he cannot make his inmost thoughts known (language). It is our hope that spelling will provide Mark a path for him to “open up” his interior dialogue. This would be life altering for not only Mark but for us as a family.

Mark and I attend weekly spelling sessions to learn methods to communicate. A mental narrative I’ve adopted during our spelling sessions is to presume competence and know that Mark hears and understands everything I say to him. I am also, outside of our spelling sessions, working on making more of an effort to build our mother-son relationship. He has spelled that he wants this! Of course he does! I don’t know many humans who do not want relationships with others. Yes, I am “with” Mark all day because his autism prevents him from living on his own but am I really WITH him? If I am, how do I do this? The answer I came up with was by spending time with him intentionally—that is how. It might seem to an “outsider” I am just wasting time with Mark, but it is never a waste of time to be with someone you love.

As I was mentioning at the start of my story, I was thinking about Mark during one of my contemplative prayer times. A parallel popped into my mind. When I pray to God, I am talking to Him, and I know He is listening to me. It is the same with Mark. Wow, this is cool! Like with God, when we talk to Mark, he is listening and understanding everything we are saying say to him although he doesn’t respond. I talk to him, and I know that he is hearing me, even if he cannot respond back. In the past, there were times that I stopped trying to communicate with Mark, because I was not getting that immediate feedback, verbal response from him.

Do you ever feel that God is not hearing you?! Keep talking, keep praying! Build that relationship with Him because that IS what God wants for us. Waste time before God—it’ll be worth it!

-Denise Wetzel