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Magazine Testimonies
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Pilot Magazine Testimonies |
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There was a time when I didn’t fully appreciate the value of Holy Mass, the Sacrament of Confession, and the grace of belonging to Jesus. Your magazine removed the scales from my eyes. It taught me how to trust in God. Now I go to confession filled with faith. I attend Mass with a spirit of intense devotion. After Communion, I experience moments of blissful peace. At work I am less given to quarrelsomeness. I tend to be less conceited, grasping and obstinate. I am able to show greater humility and more kindness. I want to be helpful and share my goods with others. My dreams are also more peaceful. Everywhere I go, I see the Father’s many graces. This sense of closeness with God remains with me all day and keeps bringing me back to the Sacrament. My desire to receive Jesus is so strong that I go to Mass every day. When I am unable to go, I miss Him very much. My close bond with Him seems to weaken somehow. Daily Communion helps me to be patient and pure. I try to pray all the time and ask God for the grace not to sin, so that I can receive the Eucharist as often as possible. Jesus heals not only our souls but also our bodies, only we must desire this very much! A Reader THE POWER OF JESUS IN THE EUCHARIST There is a great power that flows from frequent reception of Jesus in the Eucharist. I have found that, whenever I have problems in life, the very Jesus whom I receive in Holy Communion comes to my aid. You have to discover, trust, believe and understand that the Host embraces the Upper Room, Calvary, the Cross, the Empty Tomb, and the Ascension. In it you truly encounter God. When I was expecting our second child, I went through a very trying time. The results of the ultrasound were not at all encouraging and every doctor I saw seemed to have a different opinion. There was something “unusual” about my abdomen — the specialists told me. Even though I was close to term (which meant theoretically that there was less room in the womb for the baby to move around in), the child was constantly changing positions. As a result, the nurses could never detect a heartbeat. I was told the baby might have water on the brain. My “considerate” ward mates lost no time in informing me of my “course of action.” One in particular, after telling me of the dangers and abnormalities associated with hydrocephalus, almost talked me into it. But I stuck it out, even though at times I thought I would go mad. Feeling desperately alone (the hospital was in a different town from where I lived), I attended Mass at the chapel every day, received Holy Communion, and returned to my bed. I tried not to think about things and avoided talking to my neighbors. I entrusted myself to Jesus, asking Him to help me accept whatever lay in store for me. Then I met a young married woman on the same floor, and she gave me the courage I needed. To this day I do not know how such a young person could be so mature. I gave birth to a big, healthy baby. To me and my family it was a miracle. Jesus had heard our prayers. J. (An LOA reader) |
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DIE FOR THE FAITH
I was traveling to Berlin, seething with anger. I’d failed to secure a seat in second class and been forced to go first class, having paid a lot more than I was prepared to. On top of that, the train was running late. I was in no mood to engage in conversation with the people sharing my compartment. They were a married couple, a little older than I was, and they spoke what seemed to me a funny kind of English. I could hardly make out a word they were saying, but this didn’t bother me, as I had no interest in their talk. We were coming up to the town of Rzepin. The woman told her husband this must be the German border. I understood at least this much and thought I should set her straight, since the border was still 20 kilometers away. Thus, we were drawn into conversation. We traded information about ourselves, our work, and even touched on a bit of politics. They told me they lived in Canada (hence their funny English) and that they were Jewish. The woman had been born in Poland. Her family was forced to leave the country in the infamous year of 1969. Now, after many years, she and her husband had come to visit Poland. They told me they had enjoyed the visit very much. On my mentioning that Poland was enjoying a renewed interest in Judaism, they both laughed. “We’re secular Jews” they told me. “We’re not at all interested in Judaism, so why should it interest the Poles.” I tried to explain that I was also one of those interested, since Judaism lay at the root of the Christian faith. Everything Jesus taught was based on Jewish realities and the Jewish way of looking at things. A knowledge of Judaism was very helpful in understanding our faith. We began discussing Christianity; they seemed to be quite conversant with it. On many points we agreed. For example, we agreed that Jews who accepted Jesus always remained Jews, unlike pagans who had to break with paganism. For all practical purposes, the early Jewish Christians were no different from their fellows, who attended the synagogue, observed the commandments, and prayed in the Temple. The one difference was that they believed Jesus had risen from the dead. On
this point we were agreed. But then the couple told me that Jesus
could not have risen. They tried to explain the disappearance of
His body in other ways. I told them: “Imagine that we are Jews
of those times. We keep the commandments. We’re the same in
every respect. The only difference is that I claim to have seen
Jesus risen from the dead. You may believe me, or you may not. We
continue The husband agreed that mine was an interesting point of view, worthy of consideration. But his wife replied heatedly that the readiness of the early Jewish Christians to die proved they were brainwashed fanatics. Only a sick person would die for an idea. They began talking among themselves, citing examples of religious and atheistic fanaticism, and comparing them with the situation I had presented. Meanwhile, the train pulled into Berlin Zoo Station, and we had to part. I had just time enough to add that, for my part, I had come up with no other explanation for the Apostles’ behavior, and that therefore I had come to the conclusion that they must really have seen the Risen Jesus. That was why I was still a Christian. The Bible says: “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the blood of His righteous ones.” The blood of Christ washes away our sins and the blood of the Apostles confirms that their witness to the Gospel was sincere and true. If they had been bent on serving their own interests, they would not have sacrificed their lives for something they knew was untrue. Mirek |
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I was pregnant for the second time and delighted about it, for I wanted this baby. I felt very well. My doctors assured me the little one was developing normally. In my fifth month, I came down with what I thought was a case of stomach flu. I began vomiting, and experienced severe abdominal pains. Finally, alarmed, I checked into the hospital. There I spent a whole week. I was told that my pregnancy was not in danger and that my pains were the result of a bacterial infection or, possibly, a stomach ulcer. With this diagnosis, they let me go. The following day, the same terrible abdominal pains returned. Pain relievers had no effect. My husband called the ambulance; meanwhile, I lost consciousness. By the time I was picked up, I was in a critical state. My blood pressure was undetectable. The doctors could barely read my neck pulse. I couldn’t feel my legs from the knees down. I lapsed in and out of consciousness….Suspecting appendicitis or a perforated ulcer, they decided to operate. Only during surgery did the truth come out. I had had an ectopic pregnancy. The oviduct had burst, and I lost 2 liters of blood. The child was dead. The doctors said it was a miracle I had survived. It had been a hard day for my family. But they had offered up a Chaplet of Divine Mercy for me, and God had heard them. All this had taken place on a first Friday. The operation lasted over two hours and ended at 2 p.m. I came to at exactly 3 p.m…! Thank you, Lord, for the gift of life. A grateful reader |
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DESIRE THAT THE WHOLE WORLD SHOULD KNOW MY MERCY
2000 years ago, as mankind gazed longingly up to heaven, awaiting a Messiah who would raise it from its wretched condition, God, in His unfathomable mercy, gave the world His only-begotten Son. The entire earthly life of Jesus was an act of mercy: he healed the sick, fed the hungry, raised the dead, brought solace to the sorrowful and Truth to the truth-seekers. The culminating point of His merciful love was His offering up of His life on the cross. Out of His pierced heart, mercy for the world gushed forth like a spring. So what is new? We have heard this truth so many times it no longer makes any impression on us. For 2000 years, people have grown used to passing this Spring of Mercy by without paying it the slightest attention. Today, as our suffering world cries out to Heaven for mercy, God reminds us that His merciful heart remains open to all. When Jesus appeared to Sister Faustina, He said: Tell wretched humanity to cling to My Merciful Heart….Mankind will find no solace until it turns with trust to My Mercy.... I do not remember when I first came into contact with the Divine Mercy image and the chaplet of mercy. I do know that the prayers and promises given to those who hear the call of Divine Mercy were God’s answer to my needs and longings. As I learned more about these promises, and began to experience them in my life, I found myself taking ever-greater personal possession of the chaplet, the image, and the devotion to Divine Mercy. When in Faustina’s Diary I came across the words: I desire to share unimaginable graces with souls who trust in My Mercy, and also: …in that hour [of mercy], I will not refuse any soul who begs a favor for the sake My Passion…, I understood that before me was a treasure chest filled with magnificent riches. No armed guard stood between it and myself. I was free to dip into it. I could have it all to myself. All that was needed was one small word addressed to Jesus — I TRUST. I have reached for this key of trust many times in my life. Without a moment’s hesitation, I can say that every time I have had recourse to it, no matter how difficult the situation I faced, I have always emerged victorious — not I, but the Divine Mercy in me. In May of 1999, our Order decided to open a second religious house in Siberia. Its main purpose was to enable Russian women interested in joining the Sisters of Saint Borromeo to receive their religious formation in their own country. This required sending at least one more sister from Poland to work in Russia. I was on the list of candidates. I wish I could say the prospect filled me with instant apostolic zeal. But when I learned that the Little Flower, my favorite saint, would be the patron of this house, and that the chapel (which was to be the nucleus of a future new parish) would be dedicated to the Divine Mercy, it became clear to me that if this was God’s will, I could not, nor would I, refuse it. Indeed, ought I not to jump at this chance of becoming a real apostle of Jesus Christ? Did I not want the whole world to know God’s mercy? I have been in Siberia since December 2000. As I write these words by the window, I am struck by the bewitching whiteness of the snow outside. There is something in this mournful prospect that contains the promise of a marvelous transformation, reminiscent of the Russian fairytale, in which everything turns out well in the end. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow — the prophet Isaiah tells us. How much more than snow shall God’s mercy transform this land. My Russian sisters and I are here to proclaim it throughout Siberia. As Sisters of Mercy of St. Charles Borromeo, we do this through acts of love in imitation of Christ, Who healed, fed, taught, prayed and saved. We also see ourselves as heralds of mercy by praying the chaplet every day and spreading the devotion. But in order that this work may continue to flourish, that the Spring of Living Water flowing from the pierced heart of Jesus may be brought to as many of those who stand in need of God’s mercy as possible (and here, in Siberia, they are especially many), we need your prayerful support. We earnestly beg you to pray for Russia. Pray also for us, and others like us, whom God has called to carry His message of hope and merciful love to the ends of the earth. Sister
Ewa of the Sisters of St. Borromeo, |
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My name is Sergei. I was born and raised in the Soviet Union. My family talked very little about religion. Nobody went to church, as there wasn’t any church where I lived. All I knew about God was what my mother told me, but even her knowledge was limited. I knew that God created the world, that He had a Son, Jesus, Who died on the cross for man’s sins, that He rose from the dead, and is now in heaven, where He watches over those who believe in Him. I believed what my mother told me, even though, in those days, we were taught that this was all an invention of “the West” designed to dupe the people. My mother also taught me some prayers, which she had learned from her mother. But all this took place in secret. Thus, the seed of faith was sown in my childhood. What that seed did was arouse my curiosity. I wanted to know what faith was about and why so many older people believed in God. Whenever I saw an icon at someone’s house, I would ask what it portrayed and what it meant. The stories I was told began to add to my knowledge of God. I found them beautiful, like fairy tales. But I still couldn’t understand why my school taught me it was bad to be a believer. From what I had heard, God was good. Religion preached love. I saw nothing wrong in this. In the end, I stopped taking seriously what school and atheists were telling me. All it did was pique my curiosity further. I had heard a lot about the Holy Bible. People said it contained all kinds of interesting things about God, but I was unable to get my hands on a copy. I searched high and low, but in those days it was impossible to find a Bible in my town. One day, I was invited to a party for children. In the attic of one of the neighboring deserted houses, I came across Luke’s Gospel among a pile of old papers. It had been painstakingly copied out by hand in an old exercise book. That’s where it began. Thanks to those faded pages, I learned about the life of Jesus and His apostles. The account of His death literally brought me to tears – that’s how strongly moved I was. Religion stopped being a fairy tale. I began to take it seriously. I was growing up, and my life was changing. At the age of 11, I became interested in electronics and short-wave radios. I got a license and built myself a ham radio set. Now, I could talk with the whole world. I spent whole nights at the microphone trying to make contact with anyone who would listen to me. One evening, I made contact with a priest in Finland. I don’t remember his name. He gave me the frequencies and broadcasting hours of several Christian radio stations. I managed to buy a large radio receiver at an army and navy surplus store. After a bit of tinkering with it, I was able to pick up the stations. Thanks to those Christian programs, I was able to deepen my knowledge about religion and God. I learned to pray and talk with Him. A new road lay before me. I struck out on it with Jesus in my heart. Christianity stopped being a mystery. My faith grew stronger. I thanked God that I was now able to learn about Holy Scripture and hear the Holy Mass on the radio. That was a great discovery for me. I deepened my knowledge of God still further. I was happy I had become a Christian. After finishing school, I went into the army. The unit I served in was close to Moscow. While on leave, I would take walks through the city. During one of these walks, I happened on a small street where there was a Catholic church. Curious to see what it looked like inside, and drawn by the sounds of organ music, I went in. As it turned out, Mass was just beginning, and I stayed for it. That was another great discovery for me. At last I was able to see how the Mass was celebrated. The celebrant was a young priest – Father Victor. There were many young people attending. This surprised me, since I always thought only old people went to church. I listened
to the priest as if I was in a trance. I hung on his every word
and tried to commit everything to memory. A strange feeling took
hold of my whole body. It’s impossible to describe it! I felt
a peace of mind such as I had never felt before. It felt good being
there. That Mass will always remain engraved in my memory. After that, I kept coming back to the church whenever I was on leave. Before long, I found friends there. I came to the youth meetings, where we talked openly about God and studied His Word. Looking back on it now, I think those were the best days of my life. Sergei |
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I used to be gay. I am not any more. In fact, I have been heterosexual longer than I was homosexual. I have been married 32 years and have three grown-up children. I am 65 years old. I lived as a homosexual from the time I was 15 until I turned 29. I come from a large family. My father was a farmer and I was raised in the country. I never liked farming, nor was I a sturdy or robust boy. I became convinced — and I believe this is one of the causes of my homosexuality — that I was not a man in the full sense of the word. When I was 13, I discovered that I did not become interested in girls as my friends did, but preferred being with boys. I also began to feel sexually attracted to them. Since I grew up in a Christian home, I knew homosexual behavior was a sin. However, my feelings were so strong that I began to give in to them. I had several sexual encounters with boys. Eventually, I decided to adopt the homosexual lifestyle. Occasional encounters did not satisfy me. I wanted a permanent relationship. During my last three years as a homosexual, I lived with a partner, but this did not prevent either of us from having encounters on the side. We lived together, did everything together, but there was neither love nor fidelity in our relationship. All this lasted until I turned 29. It was then that I decided to break with my homosexual lifestyle. Not that the lifestyle didn’t suit my needs, but I was not at peace with God. I went to see a priest to discuss the matter with him. He told me I should continue living as I was. There was nothing wrong with it as long as I was faithful to my partner. It was not a sin — he told me. Several other Christians (including a sexologist, whom the priest referred me to) told me to remain a homosexual. So that is what I did, and for a time I felt very good about this. I gave free reign to all my desires. All my friends were homosexuals, and I spent every free moment with them. Then I met some Christians who told me something quite different from what the others had been telling me. “You can change,” they said. “Change is possible.” These Christians began to pray for me. They prayed that my homosexual feelings would be taken away. That was the beginning of my change. Scripture told me that homosexual behavior was a sin. “You are not at peace with God” — my new Christian friends told me. “You will not inherit the kingdom of God if you continue living this way. There will be no place in it for you.” That was enough for me to break with my homosexual lifestyle. I wanted to inherit the kingdom of Heaven. Scripture told me that people who live this way will not go to heaven. In his letter to the Corinthians, Saint Paul said that those who practiced homosexual acts would not inherit the kingdom of heaven. In his letter to the Romans, he also stated that these acts went against nature. I was mindful that my Christian friends were praying for me. But prayer did not change everything at once. My Christian friends urged me to believe that change was possible. When Christ entered my life, I was born anew. I knew I had become a new creation — in Christ. My old nature had been crucified with Christ. So I had to learn to treat my old nature as though it was dead. Homosexual tendencies were part of this old nature. The Bible told me that homosexual behavior was a sin. At the age of 28 I broke with my homosexual past. At first I felt free. I was very glad that God had taken first place in my life. But my former feel ings were constantly with me, and this was very hard. During that first year, my homosexual emotions kept coming back. At such times I became disillusioned with God. I wanted to change, but whenever I saw a man, I would still feel like a homosexual. So I had to struggle on, return to God, surrender my thoughts to Him. This was a struggle with my inner self. I was not yet experiencing heterosexual feelings, and this was truly difficult for me. The process required perseverance. After a whole year of living with temptation, I renewed my decision to soldier on. In five years I had only one homosexual encounter. This taught me that I could never be too sure of myself. I realized that I could have a relapse at any moment. After this setback, I resolved once again to follow God; I would not return to my former way of life. I would persevere. After that, the temptations grew progressively weaker. At the same time, I began to experience heterosexual feelings. Since the time I was married (five years after my break with homosexuality), I have never experienced an onset of homosexual feelings. When I compare my present family life with my past life as a homosexual, I see that I am much more fulfilled. I see how limiting the homosexual lifestyle was. There was so much betrayal in it. We were constantly changing partners. It was not at all as wonderful as so many people tout it to be. That is why I sought and found a way out. Now I can show people that change is possible. We should not base our life on our feelings. Our growth and maturation as human beings does not depend on what we feel. The key factor is the Word of God, which tells us that we find true happiness and fulfillment through obedience to God. Shortly after my marriage, I wrote up my story in a book entitled I Have Changed. After reading the book, several people sought me out. They would knock at my door seeking help. After five years of providing such counsel at my home, I realized this was taking a toll on my family life. There were simply too many people to deal with. At that time I was working for a crisis center run by a private foundation. When I told the director that I could no longer counsel people at my home, he proposed that I do this at the foundation center. Thus we founded EHAH (the Dutch acronym for Evangelical Care for Homosexuals), which we renamed shortly afterwards to Evangelical Care for those Struggling with Sexual Identity. Most Christians come to us with the question, “Can you help me break with my homosexual lifestyle? Can you point me in the direction of change?” We say, “Change is possible!” We go on to point out that homosexuality is not an inherent natural trait. It is merely a tendency, an orientation — an orientation that is alterable. By change, we have in mind not just replacing homosexual feelings with heterosexual ones, but something much bigger — how to fulfil God’s expectations, how to realize His plan for us. Christian living entails an inner change and real spiritual growth. At the center, we counsel individuals and hold group discussions. We encourage our clients to talk about their sexual past, and then give them pointers that can lead to change. We tell them that it is possible, that the process begins deep within ourselves. The answer resides in how we perceive ourselves. We focus on two things — the life of faith, and the underlying inferiority complex. We are convinced that there are two root causes of homosexuality: first, a neurotic disorder, a person’s psychological immaturity; second, the power of sin, which predisposes a person to fall. We have always encountered great opposition to our work. This tells us something about gays themselves. They refuse to consider that change is possible. Ultimately, gays suppress all thought that God might have planned things otherwise. This is a difficult matter that strikes at the heart of who we think we are. I too wanted to remain as I was. I too was reluctant to consider the possibility of change, for in a sense change is a process of denying one’s self. We tend to want to yield to our feelings. People do not want to hear that a path of change exists — a path open to all. They try to drown out the voice of truth.
The two ten-year reports, which our foundation has published since its inception 25 years ago, show that about 50 new individuals turn to us for counseling each year. Typically, about half of them opt for the path of change. The rest return to their old lifestyle and do not profit from our help. Sometimes they even turn against us. Of the one half which chooses the way of change, about 20-25 percent end up marrying and having families. The remaining 75-80 percent lead fulfilled celibate lives. Sometimes they still experience homosexual feelings and temptations, but they pursue the way of change through sexual abstinence. We do not say that people who come to us will necessarily change, but we do insist that it is essential they persevere down the path of change and live a life of abstinence. This requires great strength of character. And here we touch on a crucial point: carrying one’s cross. God wants to bestow upon us the strength to bear our cross. We believe that He wants to give us the strength, and this internal process begins when we give God a central place in our lives. This is the basis of living in faith: the centrality of God in our lives. It is not what we feel that counts, but carrying our cross, all the while saying, “Lord, I wish to follow you. All I want is to walk in your footsteps.” Johan
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CHASTITY: THE TASK OF MARRIED COUPLES
I have long been convinced that chastity before marriage is a preparation for chastity in marriage and that it should continue there. This year my husband and I are celebrating our twelfth wedding anniversary. My husband was 28 when we married. I was 22. By the grace of God, we were both chaste when we entered the state of marriage. The Sacrament of Matrimony bound us in a new, indissoluble reality. Our hearts were fused in the heart of Jesus, and only He can make them pure: Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me (Ps 51:12). To me, the word “chastity” means not just refraining from marital relations during a woman’s fertile period, but a whole way of living married life. After all, marital sex can also be impure if it is ruled by lust, when we fail to reckon with the needs of our spouse. Our great intercessor on this path of marital chastity is Mary. Chastity is a marvelous gift for married couples. It enables them to develop other ways of expressing tenderness, of finding time for one another. (It can be worth our while to switch off the TV and talk about ourselves, our children, work, goals – and most importantly, of God working in our lives.) Our time spent together is time blest! It is wonderful to live in harmony with God and nature. In our first five years of marriage we had three children. The first two were planned; the third was a special present from God. After our third child, we began seriously practicing NFP (Natural Family Planning). We charted my infertile periods, and then decided which days were suitable for intercourse. And that’s how matters stood until quite recently. But there came a time when we realized that NFP had become a means of contraception for us. Even though it seemed to us that we were always open to future life, for our part, we were doing everything in our power to prevent this from coming about. And yet God had a magnificent plan for us – a magnificent “conception” for our family. Could it be that by our actions we were thwarting His plan? Recently, despite the fact that we are not well off, we decided to open ourselves up to His divine action by not abstaining from marital relations throughout the first phase of my cycle. Given the irregularity of my cycles, this is like an open door to our Creator, since in this matter He is powerless to act without our agency. A married couple’s practice of chastity reflects on their children. We parents are responsible for rearing our children in chastity. From us they learn all that is good and beautiful. Sadly, however, they also learn the things we have trouble with. Our lifesaver in this regard is the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It is there that we overcome all the brokenness that sin brings into our family life. Our Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, reminds us that the most important thing is the Eucharist, in which Christ’s covenant with His Church is commemorated and renewed. In [the Eucharist], a man and his wife find strength and support for their own marital covenant. To this, we might add the couple’s own prayer life. Without prayer, love dies. Why am I writing this? Because without a deep relationship with God we are unable to live in love and practice the virtue of chastity, which flows from it. Let us pray for one another, that we may be true to our marital covenant to the end. Let us draw strength from the Sacraments of Penance and the Eucharist, that our families may grow strong in God. Let us heed the words of the Holy Father, who appeals to us: May the Holy Family of Nazareth be your example – the purity and love-filled tenderness of Mary, the faithfulness, decency and generous hard work of Joseph, and the meekness and obedience of Jesus. May we grow in holiness, and may no one in our families feel the absence of the Heavenly Father in their homes. Dear
young friends, do not allow yourselves to be manipulated by the
mass media and secular press, which tell us that abstaining from
sex is abnormal and unhealthy. It is the world that is abnormal!
Satan uses the sin of impurity to take possession of our souls.
This sin cruelly wounds our human dignity. It severs our relations
with God and other people. Ultimately, it destroys our capacity Dorothy |
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OUR STRENGTH LIES IN GOD ALONE
We owe all good things to Jesus. He lifts us up. He wipes away our sins by the hand of His priest. More than this: He draws us to Himself. He gives us strength. In a word, He loves us. He is our Best Friend, never disappointing us, always having time for us, never leaving us in the lurch. I first fell into the sin of impurity when I met my husband-to-be. To this day, I find it hard to forgive myself for placing the boy I loved above God. If only I had said a categorical “no” then! But I did not. I fell, picked myself up, resolved to make amends, then fell again. A year later, we got married. A year after that, I gave birth to our first child. Another year — another child. After six years, we had three children. I worked outside the home and kept house. It was not easy. Suddenly, in our ninth year of marriage, my husband died. The shock! Being left alone with three children! Now, from the perspective of a lifetime, I can see how God walked me through the years that followed. In my grief, I turned to Him immediately. There were times I could actually feel His guiding hand over my life. It is not easy to describe. I felt filled with a sense of security. The thought of my weakness did not even enter my head. I did my best to reassure my children — to protect them as a hen shelters her chicks. With God’s help I felt I would manage somehow. My husband was no longer with me, but I could feel God beside me. I don’t think I could ever express in words what I owed Him in those years. Six months after the death of my husband, I began experiencing intense erotic desires. I yearned for the intimacy of a man’s touch. I would rush to the cemetery and sob my heart out. Fortunately, I had my children, work, house, school, and daycare — a regular treadmill of duties — to keep me on track. But there were days when these desires became unbearably strong. They would hit me even at work, during breaks. An intimate moment with my husband would flash through my mind. Instantly, this would trigger the desires. Sometimes I couldn’t work or concentrate. I would actually break out into fits of trembling. I called on God for help. A moment’s respite — then the desires returned. And so I’d sit it out until 4 p.m. At home it was the usual round, taking care of the children, but on days like these my housework didn’t go well. Sometimes the kids would go out into the yard and I’d have a moment to myself. Sitting alone on one such occasion, I said to myself, “What is this? I’ve never had temptations as strong as this.” Immediately, the Devil began putting thoughts into my head. I had no husband, he whispered. I could always have a relationship. But, in the meantime, why wait for a relationship? Why not “relieve” these tensions on my own. God, who was always my authority and strength, suddenly seemed so distant from me. It was as though He were shrouded in a fog. Again Satan whispered to me: “What’s the big deal? So you commit a sin!” But then another thought came into my mind: “But I’d be hurting my Best Friend.” At that moment, I recalled all the things that bound me in a spirit of gratitude to God. All those difficult times when I’d actually felt His presence beside me. His help. His kindness. I saw Christ’s sorrowful face, His eyes filled with tears… I jumped to my feet. “No!” I said, “How could I allow such a thought to enter my head!” The temptation passed, and I was filled with an inner peace. The years passed. The children grew up and started having families of their own. In the Jubilee Year I attended a retreat where I made a general confession. After a sincere examination of conscience, I felt assured that, after the death of my husband, I had never consciously sinned against the Sixth Commandment. But by this point, I thought, life was free of these problems. Mature women like me no longer suffered from erotic temptations. How wrong I was! A year later, just as I thought I had long licked the problem, the temptations returned with a vengeance. Not during the day this time, but at night. Powerful erotic feelings woke me out of my sleep. Night after night, they hit me with increasing intensity. I went to confession. I felt terribly ashamed. Imagine a grandmother confessing such things! Fortunately, the priest proved to be understanding. He assured me I had not sinned and that the temptations would pass. I believed him and, indeed, after a while, they did pass. For this I thank You, Jesus! My purpose in writing this letter is to suggest that those who suffer from temptations against the Sixth Commandment consider the line of thinking that proved to be so helpful to me. When facing such temptations, rather than thinking of sin as an offense against God, as something deserving of punishment, think of it in terms of hurting a Friend — Someone Who is always at your side, Who is there to help you, Who wipes away your every tear, and never writes you off. The other point I want to stress is that Satan is always prowling about and never passes up an occasion to lead us astray. Age has no importance here. Whether we are young or 70 years old, we must always hold on to God’s hand if we are not to fall prey to the wiles of the Evil One, for our strength lies in God alone. A grandmother |
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Jesus has given me new life. He can do the same for you and everyone. It all depends on you. Christ waits for everyone. In His boundless mercy He loves all people, and He loves you just as much as He loves me. Your superb magazine taught me that no one loves me more than Jesus. Thanks to Love One Another Magazine, I now have a tremendous Friend, on whom I can always count. He has set me free from the nightmare of self-abuse and other sins. My nightmare began in grade school when I started reading Bravo magazine. It was there that I learned about masturbation. I decided to try it. I didn’t know that what I was doing was a sin, that it was wreaking terrible harm on me, that it was leading me down the path of ruin. I simply didn’t know! Meanwhile, Bravo’s “experts” were telling me that masturbation was not wrong, that it was a way of getting to know my body and preparing for “adult” sexual activity. Sadly, I believed all this nonsense, and day by day I became more addicted to the sin. Masturbation really means abuse — an abuse perpetrated on oneself, which wreaks enormous havoc on one’s mind and spirit. At first, I masturbated once every few days. But as time went on, it got worse. There were periods when I would indulge in it several times a day. Later, even that wasn’t enough. I began watching pornographic movies. I imagined erotic scenes with various women modeled on those whom I saw in the magazines and movies. I devoured every smutty article I could lay my hands on. I abused myself in front of newspapers, the TV, the computer… I did it whenever I felt like it. Before long, I had mentally overcome every inhibition — such was Satan’s power over me. Masturbation was my consuming interest. Everything else fell by the wayside. Thank God I never had a girlfriend in those days. My friends at school boasted to me of their “achievements”, the “skin flicks” they had watched, their “first times” and succeeding sexual conquests. All this seemed quite normal. I saw nothing wrong in it, even though I was becoming a worse and worse person. I was rude, peevish, high-strung, I argued with my parents over the slightest cause. I fought — often viciously — with my brothers and sisters. I had no respect for anyone. At school, things went from bad to worse. I became very lazy. Of course, I went to church, but only because my family was Catholic and we all went together. Sometimes I skipped Mass, especially if there was a game or an interesting movie on TV. I watched a lot of TV in those days. And so my life descended into the gutter. This continued until my third year of high school. One day, Father brought some copies of Love One Another Magazine to the religion class. That was the day Jesus gave me new life. When I read those articles about human sexuality, the moving testimonies of young people who, thanks to Christ, had conquered their weaknesses and overcome all kinds of addictions and sins, I felt saddened that I had been sinning for so long without knowing it. At the same time, I felt great joy that I wasn’t alone with my problem, that there was Someone Who wanted to help me, Someone Who cared about me. I could hardly wait until Sunday when I bought myself a copy of your great magazine. I read its articles greedily like someone that hadn’t eaten in days and now had plenty of food, which he could eat to his heart’s content. But this fare could last only for a while. To have a healthy body, you need to eat the right stuff regularly. It is the same with our souls. To be strong and not succumb to the temptations of Satan, who keeps thrusting his alluring “Pandora’s Box” under your nose, you have to pray. You have to trust Jesus. My struggle with sin lasted for more than a year and cost me a great deal of effort and self-denial. The early stages of my struggle were marked by frequent failures. It was a terrible feeling. I didn’t want to give in, but I couldn’t help myself. The sin was stronger than I. After each relapse, I would feel disgust and revulsion. I promised Jesus and myself I would never do it again. But sometimes I would have a relapse the same day. I went to confession often. I made novenas to Our Lady. My longest period of self-control lasted six months. Then I fell, and the nightmare started all over again. But the wonderful thing was that after each fall, I could go to confession and tell Jesus I had wounded Him. He, in turn, would forgive me and give me strength to continue my struggle. I prayed earnestly and fervently.
Three months have passed since my last fall and I trust this time I will persevere. Now, I pray three times a day, in the morning, evening, and at 3 p.m., when I pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy. In the old days, the sound of people praying on the radio used to annoy me terribly. Right away, I would turn if off. I couldn’t see the sense of it. What was the good of this mindless chatter — I said to myself. Now I can say with conviction that prayer is not idle chatter. It has great power! Through prayer, Jesus has healed me, not only of the sin of self-abuse, but also of swearing, taking the name of the Lord in vain, laziness, and compulsive television viewing. Someone might say “Sins! My eye!” but such seemingly little sins, which we find so easy to dismiss, have an enormous effect on the quality of our prayer and our lives in general. The most important thing is to pray systematically and perfect our dialog with God. It is not easy to walk with Christ in today’s materialistic, godless world, where money speaks louder than people. In propagating their message of “free love,” the mass media and their vested interests destroy the purity, trust and sensibilities of young people — and reap the financial benefits. They promote contraception, which leads not only to disease and sterility, but also to the destruction of our capacity to love. We cannot allow them to destroy our love and virtue in such a shameless way! Nor can we allow them to promote the killing of God’s most magnificent gift, the unborn child. To counter these trends is no easy task. It requires courage, effort and hard work on our part. We need to overcome our fears and weaknesses. To reach the top of a mountain means hardship and suffering, but how great will be our joy when we reach the summit! The going is tough, but Christ is with us. Our Lady is with us. If we will only trust Them, we will not forfeit our life or pass up our opportunity for eternal happiness.
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In his war on man, Satan does not always resort to the expedient of suggesting evil thoughts. As often as not, he simply deflects good thoughts, which results in a stunting of our spiritual growth When I was 14 years old my family left Poland to settle in Canada. Homesickness plunged me into a state of depression. By dwelling constantly on the past, I gave no thought to my future. I was angry. I became a passive atheist, unconsciously discarding everything that made me the person I was. At the age of 16, I started to drink, smoke, experiment with drugs, break the law, and mix with bad company. Then I discovered black magic and Satanism. I began listening to death and black metal music. I dabbled in my new religion, and even drew my friends into it. I had a demonic symbol tattooed on my right arm. Clearly, Satan had entered my life. Grief-stricken, my mother began to pray for me earnestly. I thumbed my nose at this, and made fun of her. At the age of 18, I was arrested for robbery and expelled from school. I had hit rock bottom. Shortly after this, God made it clear that He had heeded my mother’s prayers. From then on, Satan could no longer hide the truth from me. I gradually came to realize the seriousness of my situation. One night, something incredible happened. I was watching a film in which the heroine went to confession. The confessor told her, “God always speaks, but you do not always hear Him.” This intrigued me. After dwelling deeply on these words, I decided to see how true they were. For the first time in my life, I took a good look at my past and turned to God with these words, “Lord, if it is really true that you always talk to me, then I am ready to hear what you have to say. If you really exist, if you love me, and always speak the truth, then I am ready to follow you, since now I have nothing to lose.” To better dispose myself to listening, I decided to say a decade of the rosary as well as I could, and to put myself in the right mood, I decided to light a candle. At that time I was a compulsive smoker (I smoked almost a pack a day) but, by a strange coincidence, that evening I was unable to find any of my lighters. “Where’s my light?” I asked myself. Suddenly I heard a voice say, “It’s in your brother’s drawer.” I opened the drawer. On top of the drawer contents, I saw a picture of Our Lady of Czestochowa... God had taken me at my word. He had directed me not to my lighter, but to my light! I heard, I understood, and I believed. Suddenly, I felt the full weight of my sins and fell into a fit of sobbing. I begged God’s forgiveness and promised to repent. For a long while I wept like a baby. When I stopped, I found my lighter. I began to pray earnestly. At that moment, the satanic posters on my wall came loose and fell to the ground. I was terrified. Then the cancandle went out. I heard a terrible scratching or thumping sound on the door. I became paralyzed with fear. Finally, I went to the door and opened it. There was nothing there, or whatever was there was invisible. In any case, I could definitely hear the demon making off, for now God lived in my home and heart. Religion seems to be out of synch with the times, fit only for dotards and those who have nothing better to do. The mass media portray religion in a negative light, as a “luxury for a handful of imbeciles.” Instead, modern music, movies and TV tout what is “cool,” and young people soak these things up like a sponge. In so doing, they think they are in tune with the times. Premarital sex, drugs, mindless talk – do these build us up in any way? Do they help us become better people? Will they help us become better mothers and fathers? Does this “progress” give us hope for the future? Evil is “cool,” so we look to our friends and do as they do, and thus set a bad example for others. Everyone wants to be on the winning team, and these days there is such a thing as a team of evil. But from Jesus we know that it is precisely the so-called “losers” – the team of good and love – that will win in the end. He warns us that evil is doomed to lose out – for eternity. So if your team is losing at halftime, it by no means follows that it will lose the game. My conversion is a goal scored by the “good team” in the world cup finals. Let your sufferings count as more such goals for the good guys. If you are not ready to accept God unconditionally into your lives, then at least invite Him for a visit and allow Him to present the game plan to you. God always speaks, but you do not hear Him. Seek out a moment of quiet and He will speak to you and heal your soul! Raphael
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