All Conversations in My Heart
Wednesday, June 05, 2013
  Well! Well! Well!
I did not want to go over this again, not that it will do any harm but I do feel it might seem egotistical. It does seem that I did not tell this story completely, ­nor did I start at the beginning. For the last week or so, I have surely been reminded often do it agin and make it right. I missed out parts before and it is important they are inserted. This then is a more complete version.
One week some years ago I, and my wife went to Tacoma to visit with an older couple with whom we were friendly. I more so than my wife. On the way we decided to stop in at Enumclaw in Washington State, we had friends there, Jim and Bobbie Meuchels, with whom we often stayed and with whom we spent time in prayer. Lorna Keras introduced us. While there we met Fr Walter Weinrich, a retired Maryknoll missionary priest. His entire priestly life was spent in Mexico, as a missionary, among the native peoples. He lived among them in the jungle and in caves. It was I believe the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14th. Fr Walter suffered badly with Malaria, so badly he started off mass that evening wrapped in every piece of warm clothing he could possibly wear. We had to wait at the consecration while he took most of his hats, scarves and overcoats until he was in his vestments. He told us a story about Mount Rainier which was very interesting and I did make some enquiries a few days later that gave us reasons to see how true they were. Later that evening we left to stay with secular friends in Tacoma.
The next morning we had breakfast with them and went to find a morning mass. Remember this was in the very early 90's and it would be true to say and hope the behavior and demeanour of those we met have changed. We went first the Church of the Holy Rosary on the hill above the Tacoma Sports arena. The Church was closed and a woman answered the door at the presbytery. What a show it was, dressed in a semi opaque, white fitted dress. She sent us to St Leo's down the road. This was a frightening experience for my wife and certainly a disgusting experience for myself. I have and never hope to see another sacrilege like that performance. First of all we went in and sat near the front. There were three old people saying the rosary, not as a group but individually. Three middle aged women came in and stood behind the three elders and made such a racket they, the old ones, had to stop praying. It reminded me of Macbeth, the bubble, bubble toil and trouble scene. we watched as a young man came in dressed in cords, sweater and loafers, with some kind of what I probably mistook for a wedding ring on his left hand. He spent a few moments with the three women and then wandered off to come back in some kind of priestly vestments. What followed then was nothing other than a travesty of the liturgy. They started at a small table. All gathered around only to move to the Lord's "table" to stand in a group around the table and, if I remember right, holding hands. No one was able to make a sign of the cross which was sorely needed. I knelt down and prayed causing a great deal of uncomfortableness all round. Heads kept rotating to watch what I was doing.
The liturgy finished I kept praying the Rosary and I heard or perhaps many would like to say I had a thought. “I am lonely Michael” I stared around and off the side of the altar, the Church was wider than long. At one time the altar was at the east end, now it was on the south wall. Further down the wall I saw something covered with dirt and cobwebs. I went down to it and saw a statue covered in dirt. I saw later when I went back with another priest friend the most beautiful statue of Notre Dame de Grace. She was or the statue was quite large so I said a decade of the Rosary and a Memorare. When leaving the Church the three women were waiting in the parking lot for me? I could not say. I did ask them if any one had a rosary group in the parish? Their answer, “Not here, we are a good church”.
There was something present that was not good. Whatever it was, it gave my wife a fright. She wanted to go back to Canada immediately. The presence was not so frightening for me but I agreed. Ann claimed and rightly so, something followed us back along the highway but prayer convinced it to go away. As some of you have read on my blog earlier I prayed at this time with a Mrs Lorna Keras who was very definitely a visionary. Although I have never admitted it until lately when I was with her and others of her group or supplicants I heard all that was said. Lorna was a good woman and in a tremendous state of grace and Jesus or Mary often spoke through her. Lorna was privileged to speak Their messages to their children. Usually the conversation was from Lorna's lips to the supplicants ears. No one else was privy to these very personal conversations and Lorna rarely remembered them, the conversations. So I say again I was able to hear and was allowed to hear these priveliged conversations. Ann and I described the events of our visit to  Enumclaw and Tacoma. Lorna said, “We must pray”. Each time I was with Lorna, Jesus or Mary said to her, “We want to speak with Michael, you must pray”. So we did and during the prayer I asked if they wanted me to buy the statue? There was a silence, a long one and Jesus Himself asked me, “Do you want to buy the statue or console your Mother”. I did not need to think and said, “Yes I want to console my mother”. There was another long silence and I thought it is finished and Jesus spoke again, “You must go to the Grotto and space 12 steps from the mercy gate and dig a well”. Another long silence during which I asked interiorly, “May I take witnesses?” Jesus said, “You may take witnesses”. Due to my human frailties I did make mistakes in my choices, which eventually led to a separation of my spiritual life from Lorna. I lacked patience mostly, always in a hurry to get things done. Probably why Jesus asked, I mean told me later, “Just who do you think you are? I lead you follow. I died for you. Read the Scriptures”. Later still Mary told me, “Learn Patience”. Later you will see a little of what Patience means for us all and what is needed for the supernatural to take place.
So later that week a Thursday I think I went with Lorna and twelve witnesses to find the Well at the Grotto in Mission. BC. I found that it is almost terrifyingly unbelievable how so many will misunderstand in a personal way what happens and how so many will try to take over and manage Christ's or Mary's instructions and words as applying only to them.
Part 2 to come.


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