Letters to Guadalupe

Epilogue

My dearest Mother,

How nervous was Juan Diego when you requested that he deliver your message to the bishop? Was he afraid that people would think he was crazy, revealing to others the events that just took place? How did he feel after you provided him the proof and signs necessary for the bishop to take his word? These were the questions that surrounded me soon after you spoke to me about writing this book. Not that I felt unworthy to write this book....well maybe a little, but more so why now? My life is busy enough with work, family, and everything else that puts itself in my schedule. I guess I should feel proud that you feel that I have the skills and ability to write this book to completion. I thank you, my dear mother...well I'm sure I'll thank you in full later on.

As I wrote this book, I've had time to digest the reasoning behind this writing and what outcome I was hoping for. Without placing unfair expectations upon all those that read these letters I've written you, I suppose I have the hope that people may find joy and inspiration to share their lives with you on a more personal and deeper level. Many saints have said that if you want to grow closer to Christ Jesus, simply speak to His mother. I fully attest to this as I certainly have grown in wisdom, knowledge, and faith ever since I started my daily conversations with you. You have given me so much and continue to give. I suppose for this reason alone, I feel compelled to share my story with others, in hopes that my words may be the catalyst in bringing others ever closer to you and your Son, Jesus Christ.

One big question though, that has left me perplexed since the beginning was the proof that you would provide me to present to others. Where are my roses and tilma to offer as a sign of your love and affection for the world? What do I have to show? Whether you planned this or not, I believe you just gave me the final piece of the puzzle tonight, just as I was writing this. May what I am about to share serve as the proof needed to show how much you indeed trusted me to write this book.

As a child I've always been quite sensitive to my own feelings and the emotions of others. If I was happy, I was super happy. If I was sad, I was super sad. If I noticed someone was sad or upset, I was immediately concerned. For the most part, I never took much notice to it. I just assumed it was who I was and nothing more. However, beginning the second half of my high school career, shortly after my re-conversion to the Catholic faith, I began noticing an increase in how I picked up on the emotions of others. Not only was I much more sensitive to emotions and feelings, I was beginning to feel the level of one's connection with God. I would feel warmth around those who were close to God and cold around those who were not. For the next two years, this was the extent of my abilities or sixth sense as I liked to call it.

During college I was able to sense people's hurts and insecurities. Alongside the feelings of warmth and cold, I was able to detect one's level of pain and fear that they carried with them. This was especially surprising since I would be able to detect this among individuals that never seemed sad, tired, weak, or lonely. They were all smiles on the outside, but a completely different person on the inside. It was here that I began to use this sense or gift as I would later recognize it to help others. Most times, I would simply pray for them and remember them in my intentions. Other times, I would try talking to them, trying to see if I could help them, mostly by offering words of encouragement and advice. Again, this is how it would be for the next four years.

After graduation and extending to the present, my senses have gradually and dramatically heightened. Not only can I sense everything that I've said before, but now I have the ability to take on the emotions of others momentarily and have a glimpse inside their life, all the while without speaking with them. I still wouldn't know the exact details, but I would have a good idea of what was going on. My sensitivities have gotten to the point where I can get a basic idea of who a person is by simply looking at them. Let me see them in person, let me see them in a picture, whatever it is, I can read them.

At the same time though, the more I know someone, the stronger these feelings appear. If I know them well, I can easily sense if something is wrong without even talking to them about it. For those that are deeply sad, depressed, scared, or angry, I can become sick to my stomach, get a headache, or begin to feel ill. These negative feelings can be toxic to me if I'm not careful, causing me to fall into a deep depression if I don't control my emotional awareness. However, it is these individuals that I have the greatest compassion for. I truly feel their hurt and wish desperately for their deliverance. If the individual has a strong level of despair, I like to describe it like that of a weight being placed on my head, or some kind of invisible mass that takes up space in the room they are located in. I can't deny nor avoid that there's something else in the room, even though I can't physically see it. 

For this reason, I have troubles when scrolling the news feed of my social media profiles. I see my friends and family with smiles and laughter, but I can't help to feel that their smiles and laughter are not all that they seem to be. It makes me sad to see certain individuals. Some of them I have a deep regard for, and it hurts me that they try so hard to hide their wounds and hurt feelings. It seems so fake and not genuine at all. The one good thing that comes from this is a deeper desire to pray for them, and to place them in your care, Oh Mother.

Many times, I dream of family and friends, both present and long ago. In my dreams, I encounter certain individuals that my heart has been touched by recently. I try to help them as much as I can in my dreams. I want to relieve them of their unhappiness. However, as much as I try in my dreams, I'm never able to fully help them or bring them to complete fulfillment. It is then, each and every time, that I'm reminded that I am only human, I am but one man. It's times like these that I think of your husband, Joseph, and how the Lord would speak to him in his dreams. My compassion for the happiness and joy of my brothers and sisters is so great, but I can't carry their cross for them. I certainly can pray for them, and even offer words of encouragement, but I can't save them, nor would I want to take the responsibility to be their Savior, that alone goes to your Son, Jesus. He is the One Man and One God that brings us eternal freedom and fulfillment. He alone is my true Savior. However, this does not mean, I cannot show them the way to your Son. Remind me, dear Mother, that this is all I simply need to do, and the Lord will take care of it.

Up until now, I was never quite sure why I was given this ability, nor how I was supposed to use it. It can become quite overwhelming to feel and know the truth of someone's inner soul. The only other people that I had read about with this same gift were religious sisters and priests of long ago. And it didn't make it any easier that they were no longer on this earth, or I would have tried contacting them. However, the power of prayer is the best telephone, and maybe it was these individuals up in heaven that sent me their guidance?

It is my belief that I am to share this story of mine with the world as testimony of Mary's love and compassion for all her children. I would like to believe I've been given this ability to offer ever fervent prayer for all my brothers and sisters in Christ. The fact that I have this gift to read the hearts and souls of others allows me to prayer with ever more devotion on their behalf, just like our Mother does for all of us. So in a way, the many swords that had pierced your heart, oh Mother have pierced mine. I now understand why you care so much for your children here on earth. You not only love us, but you feel our hurts as if they were your own. No wonder you have appeared to so many of us throughout the centuries. Your compassion for us runs as deep as blood!

I now see that my struggles in life brought me to you, my Mother. I now see that my conversations with you gave me healing and understanding. I now see that once healed, I was bestowed the gift of mystical knowledge and understanding of hearts. I now see that this gift has transformed the way I see the world and view the value of prayer, petition, and redemptive suffering. As a result, I see the high importance of sharing this message of yours with the world, in hopes of building up God's Kingdom here on earth until our final destination and final home in heaven. Amen.