JMB left this comment on yesterday’s post:
“My husband and I ended up in a small town in NJ. We moved in just before Memorial Day weekend. My husband comes home from work that week and says he met a neighbor and invited them over for a bbq that weekend. I freaked out. Anyway, we ended up becoming great friends. He was a daily communicant and she was a convert. He was the happiest, funnest person that I had ever met. We laughed. We drank together. We.had.fun. Six years later, he perished in the Twin Towers. To this day, I credit him for my reversion. If he could be so joyful, so happy and at peace, I knew in my heart it was the Eucharist. He drew me there. You never know who you touch. You just never know. Be happy and joyful.”
I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
I've been thinking about it too! I went to comment yesterday, and all the whoosh went out of my sails when I read that one.
Wow.
And you know what? I bet there are tons more stories out there.
Blessings to you, my friend!
🙂
WOW!! What a beautiful story! Just absolutely beautiful!
"God's will be done."
My Dad died January 2nd and was buried on the feast of the Epiphany. Three days prior to his death, my parents sat with Drs. for what seemed like hours. The Drs. explained patiently and repeatedly that they could probably buy him more time if Dad would agree to CPAP and my Dad simply smiled, held Mom's hand and said…"I want God's will to be done." After he was transferred to palitive care, the Dr. spent nearly an hour speaking with my brother. Telling him that he had never met a man so completely at peace with his coming death. It became a constant refrain among his nurses and Drs. You just never know when or how your faith will touch others.
The priest who gave my Dad the sacrament of the sick. The fourth priest actually during the eight weeks Dad was in the hospital said, "We all hope for a happy life, but if we are truly blessed we are given the gift of a happy death." My Dad had a happy death. All was well between my Dad and God. He and my Mom attended daily mass, they cared for the church's votive candles. Mom on Mary's side and Dad on St. Joseph's. My Dad spent two hours every Thursday in eucharistic adoration and requested we not hold his funeral on that day and bump adoration. A convert to the Catholic faith, my daughter told the story of one Sunday morning while visiting Grandma's she asked Grandpa if she had to go to mass. Grandpa replied, "YES, you've got things to pray about. I've been making a list!" We all laughed because it was such a typical Grandpa moment. But, it spoke volumes of who my Dad was, God, the eucharist, and humble service to The Lord.
My Dad died a peaceful death and was laid to rest with great rejoicing among the tears and I have no doubt it was his devotion to the Eucharist that made that possible.
Wow.
Amazingly beautiful! God is so good.
Totally GOD!
There have been people that have come into my life and changed me for the better. I think it's an important reminder to everyone that ANYONE is capable of touching someone else's life … quite possibly in a profound good way.
Hi Margaret,
How surprised am I, to pop in and see my comment highlighted! Wow. I guess I was inspired to write that because I really believe that it is joy that radiates from the Eucharist that brings people to God. I have yet to meet a daily communicant who is miserable. It wasn't until we met our friend that we saw that one could be young, successful, holy and fun at once. He changed our lives as we know it. Thank you! Jennifer