Mother Mary stood over me, with one hand on my left
shoulder and the other palm lifted up toward God as she prayed for me.  She asked me what was wrong.  I said, “I don’t know,” and I cried aloud in
the chapel (luckily I was the only one in there).
            She said, “You’re hurt and
angry.  Why are you angry?”
            I kept crying and said, “I don’t
know.”
            She continued, “You’re angry at
yourself.”
           I said, “Yes” and choked down a
sob.
           She said, “Tell your Mother
everything.  Why are you angry at
yourself?”
          “Because I can’t do this.  I’m miserable here.  I’m bitter and I only see girls as burdens
now.  I hate my sin and myself.  Yes, I’m angry at myself and that God is not
giving me what I need.”
                “What
do you need?” she asked.
                “I
don’t know,” my common answer.  “A
husband, a Simeon, or someone to help carry my cross.”
                I
don’t remember the rest of that part, but what I remember next is her saying,
“Jesus, come and minister to this child.”
                Jesus
came and held my folded hands and said, “I love you.”  I cried again.
                Then
I remember being invited to the throne room by God himself and I physically
shook my head no and wept, telling God I am not worthy, I cannot enter his throne
room.  He said it’s a feast He has
prepared for me—for me, the honored
guest, and I couldn’t believe it!  He
wouldn’t take no for an answer and I appeared at a feast, a table of food and
wine in the middle and a long table on both sides where people sat.  Someone invited me to join them at an empty
seat.
                Then
God showed me a mirror.  He said, “What
do you see?”
                I
cried again because I saw in myself nothing good.  I saw pain, lack of joy, loneliness.
                He
said, “Child, look again.”
                When
I looked again I saw people forming a V behind me, like the shape of birds
flying south, but I was the point, the head. 
St. Michael was at my right and angels were behind me.
                “See,
you are NEVER alone,” He said.
                Mother
Mary appeared again with the motherly command, “She needs to be ministered to
and she needs healing.”
                God
confirmed, “Come to Me and you will find rest. 
You need DO nothing.  You need to
find what joy looks like.  You cannot do
that if you don’t come to my feast.” 
Then I pictured the feast, the laughing, the music, the dancing, and I
pictured Jesus doing my ‘shake baby shake’ dance.  Now THAT made me laugh!  God commanded that I come to his feast every
day for the next week.
                When
Mother Mary appeared again, she was washing my feet.  And I thought of my own mom.  Mother Mary reminded me that my mom is like
her at Calvary.  That my mom weeps for me
as Mary did for Jesus.  That my mom is
walking this road with me even though I can’t always see her, just as Jesus
didn’t always see his mother, but she saw him. 
Mary told me to give my burdens to my mom, to tell her of my suffering,
so she can take it from me, she can help give me courage.  “Your mom is a powerful prayer.  Let her fight for you.”  As she finished washing my feet, she led me
to a room of beds, all white, and told me to lay down and rest.  Then she left me and continued ministering to
others at their beds, fallen warriors, those getting recovery to be sent back
out into battle.