This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad. Psalm 118:24.
Chapter 14.
Your Mother Mary, Queen of Heaven and Earth.
14.1 Jesus' Mother, our Mother.
"Seeing his mother and the disciple he loved standing near her, Jesus said to his mother, 'Woman, this is your son.' Then to the disciple he said, 'This is your mother.'" (1) Your Highness, our dear Lord kept nothing for himself, He gave everything He had to you and me, even the sweetest delight of His most Sacred heart, His Mother Mary.
14.2 Our Mother's heartbreaks.
Poor Mother Mary! There is probably no greater heartbreak for a mother, than to see her children in pain and not come to her for help. She longingly yearns to embrace lost hearts, to nourish hungry hearts and to console lonely hearts. Too many of us, quite simply, do not have a Mother/son or Mother/daughter relationship with our dearest Mother Mary. Both suffer immensely.
14.3 Reaching your Mother Mary.
How do we reach our dear loving Mother Mary? Remember when you read that the name contains the person and that the Word, Jesus, is the Kingdom of God within you? Let's look at that text again: Dwelling within you and (I) is the Word (Jesus) through whom "all things came to be." (2) In Jesus' name, through whom "all things came to be," is every spirit, every angel, every man, every woman and every child, whoever was, whoever is, and whoever will be, and that includes our wonderful, loving Mother Mary.
We reach our heavenly Mother Mary by embracing Jesus within our heart and meeting our dear Mother Mary there, in Him. In other words, to be with Mother Mary we have to go to Jesus, her Home, for it is there where She lives. How wonderfully blessed we are to have such a gentle maternal heart to share with, to seek counsel from, to care for us and to intercede for us. There never was a child who did not go to his or her mother now and then, to share with or to talk things over.
14.4 Mother Mary's counsel received in prayer.
Once in early evening I was praying the Liturgy of the Hours on the sun deck, I asked our dear Mother Mary (present in the Word within you and me):
"Mother, what could I do to be more like you?"
I wanted to be like her in her relationship with our dear Lord. Because she was "one of us," I felt that we could discuss this together as Mother and child.
"Look at the moon," I heard her say in my heart, "what is it made of?"
"Dust," I answered. (3)
"Where does it get its light then, which it reflects so brightly in the darkness of the night?" she asked.
"From the sun," I replied.
"If you wish to be like me, remember that you are dust and that, in the dark night of this world, your Light comes from the Son of God," she said.
Dearest Brother and Sister in our dear Lord, are we not blessed to have such a loving mother like our Mother Mary? Always present- always ready to bring us to Her Son.
14.5 Examples of Mother Mary's assistance.
Florence and I have six beautiful children who, of course, have now settled into their own lives. As they were finding their places in the world, we asked Mother Mary to watch over them. We asked Her to have Her angels protect them. No matter where they were or how far away they were, we knew She would be there to help us watch over them. Thank you dearest Mother Mary.
When two of our children were married they were living far away from home, but in their milieu they had wonderful "parents" to help them with their wedding plans. Thank you dearest Mother Mary.
In another incident, one of our sons was in a serious ski accident, again far away from home. He survived without loss of limb and without permanent injury, thanks to a gifted doctor who gave him the care he needed. Thank you Mother Mary for your presence with our children.
14.6 Mother Mary's power.
One summer (like every other summer on Canada Day), all eight of us boarded our trusty Volkswagen minibus and took off on our annual vacation. That year our holiday was going to be just a bit different. We rented a tent trailer and headed for the Maritime Provinces in eastern Canada. The children were at that wonderful age of discovery. Good old dad had the thrill and joy of being their guide. After checks and double checks, it was all aboard. We left Ottawa and headed for points east.
Our first stop was in beautiful Quebec City. We located a clean trailer park, hooked up, had an enjoyable supper, stretched a bit and planned our activities.
The next day we set out on our walking tour, visiting the Plains of Abraham, the old city, the historic churches, the markets, artist corners etc. It was a wonderful, sunny, magical kind of day, lots to see, lots to do and good food to boot. Finally, dead tired from all the fresh air and walking, we boarded the minibus and headed back to the trailer park. That's when I saw it! I could not believe it. Lying there, waiting for me, like a sleeping dragon with its great crest of steel rising high above its asphalt back, was the Pierre Laporte bridge over the St. Lawrence river.
I'm terrified of heights and here was this incredible bridge waiting for me. Tomorrow we had to cross it to continue our journey East. I thought we would be crossing by ferry, but the service was not available. I had no idea that we had to cross a bridge of this length and height. It was an immense bridge, a towering metal monster, one could not see the other side since it arched so high in the sky. I said nothing to the family, but I was flabbergasted! How could this have happened? We're on vacation! This was a time to be carefree and enjoy the adventure of travel in new lands!
Only those who have a fear of heights would know the terror one experiences in such situations. I require an enormous amount of mental preparation to simply climb a ladder to change a light bulb under the carport. How was I going to cross this bridge with its many lanes, so high and over so long a stretch of the St. Lawrence River? And what was the other half like, the half that I couldn't see? How was I going to prevent myself from freezing, from being glued to the wheel? Such was the terror I felt.
Once back at the trailer park, we prepared the children for their night's rest and got our things together to continue the trip early next morning. I had nothing else on my mind but this unbelievable intrusion, forced on me during what was supposed to be a happy, carefree holiday. Neither Florence nor the children had a clue what I was going through, nor could they know how my stomach was twisting and turning over this unexpected confrontation
My only recourse was to ask our dear Mother Mary for help. "Please Mother Mary, do something! Don't let me be an embarrassment to Florence and the children. I'm afraid of freezing on the wheel, of creating a traffic hazard and maybe even causing an accident there- high in the sky. (I had visions of a traffic pileup and cars dangling over the edge of the bridge.) P-l-e-a-s-e help me. What was I going to do? The bridge was there and I had to cross. What was I going to do?"
The next morning the moment of decision was fast approaching. While getting dressed, while having breakfast, while closing the tent trailer, I had one thing and one thing only on my mind- that bridge. What was going to happen? I felt a terrible disaster was imminent. I even saw the headlines in the newspapers, "Family of Eight Plunges into St. Lawrence River."
Eventually, everything was loaded and everyone was aboard. The children were full of excitement, discussing the adventures that lay ahead. The first bright rays of the morning sun heralded the coming of a great summer day. In that early hour I drove out of the park onto the quiet, newly washed street, turned left and headed for "it." No one could have any idea of the terror the driver of this Volkswagen minibus was going through. Then... there it was, a large blue sign sneering as it screamed out to me, "PIERRE LAPORTE BRIDGE NEXT RIGHT." This whole event was now one terrible nightmare. I was overwhelmed. I felt so alone. The moment seemed so final. "Mother Mary PLEASE help me to overcome these terrible feelings."
Helpless to do anything else, I moved toward it. Cold fear gripped me once more as I turned right and headed for the bridge on ramp. As expected, my hands froze to the wheel. My eyes were glued to the road immediately in front of the van. I did not dare look elsewhere. Fear had made me as stiff as a board. The minibus slowed to a crawl. Only sheer willpower brought me inch by inch onto the steeply rising ramp to the bridge.
Then it happened.
I couldn't believe it.
The bridge was nowhere to be seen.
A heavy thick gray fog suddenly enveloped everything in sight. I could not see ahead of me, or the sides of the bridge, nor the massive steel structure on top of the bridge, nor the sky above, or the river far below. The fog was so thick I switched the headlights on. All I could see was the dark gray asphalt immediately in front of me. For all practical purposes I was driving on nothing else but a paved road. I couldn't believe it! All my fear and fright suddenly turned into a giddy delight. An enormous burden was lifted from my back. The children were heartbroken- there was nothing for them to see. I "sympathized" with them as I happily drove across this bridge that was "no longer there." I was simply driving on a paved road.
"Thank you Mother Mary. Thank you! You're wonderful."
14.7 Mother Mary's anniversary gift.
One year, on the anniversary of my ordination, I was feeling sad because I was not actively involved in a parish ministry. Earlier my ministry was with a parish that was a real microcosm of the Kingdom of God. I longed for a ministry in an active parish. Why was I ordained and not doing anything, when so many need help and there are so few to help?
That very evening I received a telephone call from a pastor inviting me to give his parishioners a five evening course on baptism. What made this a special event was that the request came from "Our Lady of the Holy Rosary Parish." I saw this as our dear Mother Mary's way of telling me not to get discouraged. This was her gift to me on this the anniversary of my ordination. She was confirming my ministry in the permanent diaconate. With renewed enthusiasm, I gave those parishioners all the love I could during the week we had together. What a wonderful loving Mother you and I have.
It's no accident that when you look after others, others look after you. Florence and I, under Mary's care, gave a fair amount of time doing volunteer work at the local hospitals, caring and loving persons who were ill and alone. During this time, Mother Mary saw to it that others were caring for and loving our children, who were far away from home, who needed a mom and dad near them at those particular times.
How could Florence and I have survived without the assistance of dearest, wonderful, loving Mother Mary? Her maternal presence safeguarded our relationship as friends, sweethearts, husband and wife, father and mother, and as Her children.
I am pleased to share these few experiences with you, a few out of many, where our dearest Mother Mary is active in our lives helping us along the way.
14.8 Prayer to Mother Mary.
Your Highness, may I share with you a prayer to our dear Mother Mary? This prayer was prepared for a person who was very ill and hospitalized. She was so angry, discouraged and demoralized that she did not have the heart to try to put any prayerful thoughts together, so I wrote this prayer for her. Happily, she regained her health and left the hospital to again enjoy life in this beautiful creation.
14.9 Prayer to Mother Mary.
Dearest Mother Mary, Oh most gentle and faithful mother, I bring my poor heart to you that I may find refuge in your loving care and concern for my well-being.
Oh most wonderful and sweet consolation given by Jesus to mankind, I too have been given to you by your most Holy Son. Mother, keep my heart in yours, always. Protect me from anything that could separate me from you.
Dearest most loving Mother Mary, I give you my poor sufferings and heartbreaks. With your pure and supplicating hands, place them in the sacred and holy Heart of your Son Jesus. May the flames of His divine love purify them for the salvation of souls such as I.
In thy loving care, oh wonderful Mother Mary, I place my poor self. My hope is to stay in your loving arms always, most loving and sweetest Mother Mary.
Most gentle Mother, Joy of the Holy Trinity, keep me close to you always. In you, most loving Mother, is my consolation and security.
Dearest and most precious Mother, I rejoice in your presence in my heart. I love you. Dearest Mother Mary, help me to know you and love you and love you and love you more and more.
Your son/daughter (name).
Your Highness, I encourage you not to begin any undertaking without asking your Mother, Queen of Heaven and Earth to watch over you and to guide you.
14.10 Books about Mother Mary.
There are many wonderful books on Mother Mary, information that the church and the saints have gathered over the centuries. Read them and learn all you can about this most precious gift Jesus has given to you. She will be your joy and consolation. Two that I recommend are:
1. Papal teachings on "Our Lady." published by the Daughters of Saint Paul.
2. The Mystical City of God, by Venerable Mary of Agreda (four volumes or an abridged version) Read a little each day for the rest of your life. (4)
14.11 The bottom-line.
Our dearest Mother Mary was crowned Queen of Heaven and earth. The Blessed Trinity is so pleased with Her, They entrusted to Her all of creation. Is it conceivable then, that as a Monarch in this very same Kingdom, one can govern without its Queen? Of course not. Each and every day, your government in the Kingdom of God has to be in consultation with the Queen of Heaven and Earth, your Mother Mary.
Using a diary or a journal, share with your dear Mother Mary. With a child-like heart share your day with Her. Share your ups and downs, your joys and your sorrows. Ask questions. Tell Her of your dreams. Present your petitions. Place your complete trust in Her. With the Queen of Heaven and Earth at your side, your reign as Monarch in your corner of the Kingdom of God will be fruitful indeed.
Footnotes.
1 John 19:26.
2 John 1:2.
3 I still had a vivid recollection of astronaut Neil Armstrong's first step on the moon, July 20, 1969, and the cloud of dust it generated.
4 Tan Books and Publishers, Inc., P.O. Box 424, Rockford, Illinois 61105