Signs and Wonders

Roses in a Cobalt Vase by Alexis Kreyder

SEPTEMBER 17

OUR FAMILY'S MEMORIAL OF MARY'S MIRACULOUS ROSE

Today a single, pink rose sits in a vase in front of our statues of the Holy Family and Mary, next to a small jar that contains dried rose petals. It is our tribute to a miracle that Tom and I experienced.

We told a few people soon after it happened on Sept. 17, 2001. They greeted this story with reactions of belief or skepticism depending on their natures. I told my CRHP retreat team when we shared our faith experiences with each other. Later I was privileged to share this as part of my witness to the next CRHP team during the retreat we held for them. Now I am sharing the story here and you may make of it what you will. All I know is that it happened and was miraculous enough to render my extremely practical, very Catholic husband speechless.

I could write much more than anyone would care to read and not be able to convey all the memories and emotions that this day holds for me of that time. Below is part of the witness I shared.

It has seemed good to me to publish the signs and wonders which the most high God has accomplished in my regard. (Daniel, Chapter 3, Verse 99)

When Tom and I went to Houston on the Friday after his father had his stroke, we were in for a terrible shock. We had been told the stroke was minor but, in fact, it was major. We checked into a hotel that adjoined the hospital and never stepped outside again until we left on Monday afternoon. There were many moments of total despair and raw emotion … it was a terrible time. I prayed ceaselessly and finally threw myself at the feet of the Holy Family. It was a huge moment of realization for me ... I will never forget sitting there realizing that we were totally helpless and only God has control.

Finally Tom’s father seemed to improve and we were really happy as we got ready to leave. As Tom drove the car around to where I was waiting with the luggage, I saw a flash of pink. A friend had given me a rose to take to Tom’s mother. It was just opening perfectly when we arrived. I left the rose in the car thinking I would give it to her later. Of course, the way things turned out we hadn't been back to the car the whole time. That rose had been forgotten in a closed car in a parking garage in 90° weather for close to 4 days.

When I walked around to my side of the car, I told Tom, “I forgot all about that rose. There’s a trash can over there. I'll throw it away.” He just looked at me and said, “Julie, you’re not going to believe your eyes.” and opened my door so I could see. The rose was perfect. It had not changed a bit since we left it in the car. It was unwilted and the heart was just opening. It was as if time had stood still. I held it on my lap all the way back to Dallas and in a half an hour it had wilted to exactly the state I expected to find it in originally. It was like watching time lapse photography in front of our eyes.

Blood of St. Januarius ‘completely liquefied’ on feast day

“We have just taken from the safe the reliquary with the blood of our patron saint, which immediately completely liquefied,” the abbot of the chapel of the treasury of the Naples Cathedral announced on Sept. 19. ...

“It’s a testimony that is present, living, current, and capable of speaking to the heart of every believer, pushing him to more consistency, beyond courage, to a life of giving, steeped in sharing.” (Bishop Battaglia).

This is one of those miracles that seems impossible or the result of feverish, over-devout wishful thinking. However, with video handy, you can see the actual liquefied blood of St. Januarius, which was first recorded in 1389.

I myself have never been attracted to these sorts of miracles so I've not paid much attention in the past. However, recently, I heard a friend talking about how his faith grew because of this sort of miracle and the inability of scientific investigations to explain it.

Here's the video.

Here's everything you need to know about the miracle of the liquefication of St. Januarius's blood. Of special interest to me was the fact that there is no scientific explanation. 

Here's the CNA story which reports the bishop's speech in full.

Clouds of Witness and Rays of Light

I meant to link to this amazing story last week and then thought that surely I'd see it making the rounds. But not so.

Therefore, I am very happy to tempt you into reading a miraculous story with which to begin the year ...

While visiting my friend in Dallas this past week, she asked me if I would mind going over to the house of a friend of hers who was out of town and has been having some troubles, and praying there for him. Though my friend is an Evangelical, her friend is a Catholic, so I asked her if she would mind if we went by his parish first for some holy water to sprinkle around, and she said she wouldn’t, so we did.

When we got to the house, we went in, and I noticed that it seemed very dark and cold inside. I told my friend that I wanted to start by the front door, and gradually work my way through every room in the house, praying and sprinkling holy water as we went. We walked over to the door and turned to face the room, and I crossed myself in preparation to pray.

The moment I began praying, I felt a sense of very heavy, dark oppression come over me – and at the same moment, my friend sank down to her knees. I wondered if she felt it, too, but said nothing and continued to pray. We slowly worked our way through each room, praying and sprinkling holy water, but the heavy, dark oppressiveness remained. Finally we had gone through every room, so I returned to the front door and faced the room again. I had prayed everything I could think of, but the darkness and heaviness was still there.

Now, go read the rest at Historical Christian.

An Amazing Instance of a Miracle Recorded

Shamelessly lifted from Wittshire. First, read this story ...

Duane Miller was a lifelong preacher with a big problem: his voice was gone. After a bad bout of flu, he couldn't speak above a strained whisper. Over the course of the next five months his doctor and several specialists agreed: the flu had permanently damaged his vocal cords. Just in case they were wrong, they recommended a six-month hiatus from speaking.

So Duane stayed home and stayed quiet. After six more months he had not improved--indeed, the specialists now told him that even his painful whisper was doomed. He was producing sound using the fatty tissue known as "false cords," and they would soon wear away.

Doctors photographed and studied every step in the progression of Duane's muteness. In Switzerland, specialists from all over the world examined photographs of his badly scarred throat.

Meanwhile, Duane found a job doing paperwork and wondered why God had taken away the tool he needed to do the job he'd always thought he'd been called to do.

This went on for several years. Occasionally Duane's friends at the large church he attended in Houston persuaded him to "scream" his whisper into a microphone and teach class. He had mixed feelings about this--it was painful to do, and painful to hear--but every now and then he did teach a short class.

Three years after he'd lost his voice, Duane agreed to be the last-minute substitute teacher for an adult Sunday school class. He was supposed to teach Psalm 103.

Praise the LORD, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--

Who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion,who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

Great. How was he going to have any credibility teaching that God "forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases," and "redeems my life from the pit"? He was in the pit. God had not healed him. In fact, the doctors said he was nearing the time when he'd be completely mute. Moreover, Duane had just lost his job, and a manuscript he'd hoped to get published had been rejected--not because of the text itself, but because he would be unable to promote the book on radio shows and so forth.

But Duane taught. He said that God could do whatever God wanted to do. He said that God wasn't a genie who always performed at our command, but neither was he indifferent to our struggles. He was God.

Teaching hurt. Duane's throat ached from "screaming," and he wasn't sure anyone could really hear him anyway. He was about to cut the lesson short when he got to the "God heals all my diseases" part.

"I have had, and you have had in times past, pit experiences--"

And on the word "pit," his throat opened. People looked up. He sounded different.

Duane kept talking. "We've all had times when our lives seem to be in the pit... in the grave--"His voice was stronger! His wife got up from her seat and ran up to the podium. Duane began to cry.

That was in 1993. When doctors examined his throat, they found it smooth and healthy, completely free of scar tissue.

Today Duane Miller's voice is still fine. And his healing, which took place in a room full of several hundred people, was recorded. You can listen to it here (click on "the moment" at the bottom left).

So praise Him in the light, but praise Him in the dark as well. He has not forgotten you. He knows what he's doing.

... then go to Duane's website and click on "The Moment" at the bottom left-hand side of the page. It is simply amazing. And, of course, I cried.

Thanks Be to God for Miracles, Little Girls ...

... and this Catholic hospital.

"By that point," remembers Taylor, "our prayer was more, initially, or first reaction was to pray to God to help us make it through it. To comfort us. Shortly after that our mind changed and we said God we know you have the power to change this, and we're putting this in Your hands.

Regular sonograms for the next six months still showed no amniotic fluid. An inducement was scheduled six weeks before the due date. One last sonogram indicated something had changed. The Whites headed straight to their specialist in Dallas...

Read it all. Via Alicia.