The vulnerability of the sick and disabled is a great strength. Their receptivity to earthly love makes them powerful conduits for the heavenly kind.
I’m sitting in Panera and 14 seconds after I typed the last word of this book about my pilgrimage to Lourdes, I hear singing in Latin. It sounds like the rosary being sung in Lourdes. I mean, it sounds EXACTLY like the rosary being sung in Lourdes.
Sometimes discernment is hard. But sometimes, God just throws up his hands and does it for you. (Twice, if necessary.)
More than a year ago, a ridiculous dream formed itself in my heart. On May 5, 2018, it actually happened.
Brokenness lived under the blessing is transformed into a gift, not a burden. Every year in Lourdes, I get to relearn this.
In which we fly across the world to serve the sick and end up joining their ranks instead. In Lourdes, there are no accidents.
God has drawn beautiful goodness forth out of the rubble and ashes. He makes ALL things new, even the raggedy souls of beaten-down special needs mamas.
In which we address the elephant in the room and the million dollar question: What happened AFTER the baths?
Awkwardness! Confusion! Doubt! Our time in the baths was the beginning of the story, not the end.