“The First Time Ever I saw Your Grace”

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Grace

In last weeks blog my story pointed out my rusty ability to discern who processed “the gift” of healing. In a humorous way I took you along on one of the roads on my life’s journey, and this week I invite you to come once again and travel with me.  We are going to visit an experience totally on the other side of this “healing” rainbow.  It was a profound spiritual event, which opened wider the eyes of my soul.

On this trip we travel to 1981.  I was recuperating from a surgery that removed a huge stone from my ureter, the tube connecting the kidney to the bladder.  Although the operation succeeded in the removal of the stone, it left scar tissue where the ureter joins to the bladder.  This tissue prevented the flow of urine between my kidney and bladder, a back up that could have destroyed my precious organ.  Weekly visits to the urologist to rectify the problem fell short, and I faced the grim reality of removing my right kidney.

A few days before returning to the urologist to talk about the surgery, my mother read about a nun known for her “gift of healing” in the church bulletin.  She would be speaking and performing “laying on of hands” that night.  With major doubts dancing in our heads, and googling her – not an option – my mother and I shrugged our shoulders.  “Why not give it a go.”

The anticipation made the afternoon crawl, and angry storm clouds were approaching from every direction.  But, as the winds picked up, so did the chatter of my inner voice.  My guidance spoke with clarity; we were to attend this healing service.  Since my accident there seemed to be a connection between storms, and the receiving of profound gifts.  So, with the storm and the chatter, I decided to prepare my heart to be receptive this night.

With no let up in the weather, we chose to leave early; the conditions dictated driving slowly and cautiously.  The ride to the church had a mystical feel as the lightening bolts enlivened the sky, but the sharp claps of thunder stole our sense of awe.  I prayed our fear would give way, so we could watch nature’s presentation without concern.  Each frightful experience taught me to surrender more to my soul’s promptings, and to gently dismiss the cleverness of the ego.  Fear was my ego’s sidekick on this stormy night, but tonight it would not sway me.  We stayed our course and arrived safely.

Upon opening the doors of the church we were both amazed; it was filled beyond capacity.  As for me I came with my chair, but where to seat my mother was the question.  In no time a gentleman graciously gave my mother his seat – front and center – and he kindly rolled me in the aisle next to her.  As my mother brushed rain drops off my shoulders, Sister Breige McKenna made her entrance to a soft piano melody of soothing music.

With the gentle tones in the background,  she began to speak with a strong Irish accent accompanied by a radiant angelic smile.  She spoke of her own miraculous and instantaneous  healing from rheumatoid arthritis at the age of twenty four, and explained while in prayer many years later, she received the gift to heal others.  She attributed this power to the grace of the Holy Spirit, and her strong connection to Jesus and the Blessed Virgin.  It was at this point she asked us to silently pray as she would take time to do so as well.

The choir began to sing softly.  The blend of voices created a rich harmony, which drew me totally and completely into “the moment.”  As the voices of the choir grew more powerful, I let ALL thoughts of the past and future behind.  With each note this heavenly fusion of sound spiraled inward, and it took me deeper into my comfort zone, my soul.  At this point my eyes were closed, and I felt weightless and unencumbered by my body.  I wondered how many had joined me, because I felt the melding of energies mixing effortlessly.

I slowly opened my eyes and Sister Beige, still in prayer, was surrounded in glowing white, pink and golden colors.  I knew these colors as our aura, and since my injury saw them frequently.  But, this evening there was a stream of sparkling luminescent gold particles flowing into the top of her head.  The brilliance and aliveness stood out from her aura, and it held me transfixed as her image faded.  I felt a bit faint, and the words “be still, surrender,” whispered from within.

Not wanting to fracture this scene, I was startled when the ushers began directing us to form a line.  It was time to receive the “laying on of hands” by Sister Breige.  My mother rolled me in my spot, and I watched the others before me.  Sister Breige first handed them a medal of Our Lady of the Miraculous Metal.  Then, with her head slightly bowed, she placed her hands on each persons head.  The entire time the flow of glimmering  particles entered her crown, and now they danced freely from the palms of her hands.  I could see some people felt dizzy after the experience, but each one moved away with a tranquil expression.

My turn had come, and tears trailed down my cheeks as she smiled and put the medal on my lap.  She was speaking as she laid her hands on my head, but I did not hear a word.  I felt what was like a warm thick fluid gently winding its way through all areas of my body.  I must say, I was familiar with this flowing warm liquid.  It had visited my body many times since my spinal injury, and I knew it as God’s grace.  Each time my journey took me over the bumpy roads, it found its way to comfort me.  I was well aware of its power to clear and calm my mind, and to rejuvenate my spirit.  Tonight, as I was rolled away, I felt the deepest sense of gratitude.  This stormy night, filled with blessings, was the first time ever I saw God’s grace.

As I waited for my mother to receive her healing, I had no doubt my scar tissue was gone.  I understood that totally surrendering to the present moment, I opened the door to receive the present of God, an amazing healing grace.  My mother did not see the brilliant colors, but from the look on my face she believed I was healed on many levels that night.  And…

Thirty one years later, I still have my right kidney, and regularly feel the presence of grace

REPOSTED from 3-21-2012


About anitaskocz

ANITA JOYCE SKOCZ is a storyteller who resides in Central Florida. She credits her passion to her father, who dazzled her imagination as a child with his gift to weaver a tale. After a diving accident in 1978, Anita left the travel industry to journey the inner roads of her soul. The riches found on those adventures inward come to life in her children’s books. Anita’s books, “Crystal Star Angel” and “Kite Tale,” were inspired by the loving relationships her father had with his grandsons. From Where I Sit is a blog where Anita shares her life’s stories, or comments on current events from her soul’s perspective. Her insights can evoke laughter as well as take one on a reflective journey. In any case she hopes you join her each Wednesday for a new adventure.
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