Letters to Guadalupe

Introduction: Our Lady of Guadalupe, my spiritual mother

Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of the many titles that's given to Mary, the mother of Jesus. It is the name that the people of Mexico bestowed upon her after she appeared to a man named Juan Diego during the 16th century. Her desire to have a church built upon the hill of Tepeyac would eventually lead to the conversion of millions to the Catholic faith. This would impact not only the faith and culture of the country of Mexico, but of all of the Americas (North America, South America, Central America, and the Caribbean). Our Lady of Guadalupe is forever recognized as the patroness and protector of the Americas and of all races, ethnicity, and cultures. She is our spiritual mother, who waits with great anticipation to begin a lifelong relationship with us, aiding us in our afflictions and leading us ever closer to her Son, Jesus Christ.

I first encountered my mother of Guadalupe during my junior year of high school. I would briefly learn about her during my religion class, but more so with the Pro-Life Movement. Our Lady is not only Patroness of the Americas, but also Patroness of the Unborn. During the month of January and the week of the anticipated March for Life in Washington, D.C., I remember I received a prayer card of Our Lady of Guadalupe from our school's Pro-Life club. On the front of the card was the image of Our Lady that was revealed upon the cloak or tilma of St. Juan Diego. On the back side was a prayer for the unborn, asking Our Lady to intercede for an end to abortion. I remember keeping the card, and placing it somewhere on my desk at home. This title of Mary caught my attention more so than the others I had encountered like that of Fatima or Lourdes. I wouldn't be able to place why I felt that way, but come next year, I would be a little bit closer in finding out why.

Every fall, my high school would make a pilgrimage to a religious site. Most times it was to the Holy Hill Basilica and National Shrine of Mary, Help of Christians in Hubertus, Wisconsin. This place I was quite familiar with, as I had visited the sacred site many times during my childhood. However, during my senior year, our school decided to make the longer trek to La Crosse, Wisconsin, which was home to the newly constructed Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I remember being super excited to see and visit a new location, but lingering in the back of my head was a particular curiosity on why I felt this excited.

The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe is one of the most beautiful sites I have ever experienced. The landscape of the heavily forested hills and bluffs are breathtaking. The exterior of the church and affiliated buildings remind me of a fusion of old and new architectures. The interior of the church is built with smooth marble and painted walls that resembles the beauty and artwork of western civilization. All of this makes it quite easy for a person to fall into deep contemplation and awe with God's work and creation.

Of the memories I can still recall, I remember secretly falling in love with the place. Everything about it was awe-inspiring and life-fulling. There were opportunities both inside and outside to pray and contemplate. What was only 3 to 4 hours of exploring the complex and attending daily mass, seemed more like twice if not three times the time spent there, as if time seemed to move at a much much slower pace.

There was one statue in particular that caught my attention. It was that of Our Lady holding a precious baby (it wasn't Jesus) between her arms and smiling with closed eyes. It was to represent all the unborn infants that never made it past the womb, whether by natural or unnatural means. For some unexplained reason, I felt what seemed like an invisible force strike my heart and soul. A deep sadness for these unborn infants, and an even greater thankfulness for being alive and making it this far to age 17. I would leave this place with new ideas and thoughts, and a deeper devotion to Our Lady. Each year, my bond with Mary would become stronger, and my knowledge and understanding of the events that took place in Mexico those many years ago would continue to grow and flourish.

It would be another 7 years until I would find myself upon the holy grounds of the Shrine in La Crosse. This time visiting the pilgrimage site with a familial bond and presence and less like that of a stranger. Between my first visit here and then, I had gained so much knowledge of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and formed a spiritual bond like that of a mother and son. And so, on a cold and snowy January morning, I had made the spontaneous decision to travel north to Wisconsin and see my spiritual mother and ask her for a favor. I left early in the morning with little to no expectations, but I would come back with new hope and much needed direction.