We Are All Wounded Warriors. Let Us Go to the Great Physician for Healing!

Sometimes an article I read triggers awareness of a challenge in my own life or the life of someone I love. That happened this morning as I was reading Fr. MacRae's Divine Mercy for Doubting Thomas and Other Spiritually Wounded. My first thought on reading the title was that we are all spiritually wounded, some more than others. Unlike physical wounds, spiritual wounds can hide more easily. A cheerful disposition may mask deep pain, grief, and anxiety. The Roman martyrs went to their deaths singing, but can anyone doubt that they trembled with fear as they contemplated facing the beasts in the coliseum?
There's certainly a difference among the physically wounded, between a child who falls and skins his knee and a war veteran who loses a limb. To pretend that both of them are equally wounded would be stupid to say the least. The same reality exists among the spiritually wounded. How many are trapped in a deep pit with no apparent way out, so deep that the sky above is a tiny circle of light in the day and unrelenting blackness at night? Others may simply experience mild discouragement. But both need the consolation and grace that allows one to persevere.

Fr. MacRae's situation of false imprisonment puts him in contact with hundreds of spiritually wounded prisoners. Many of his stories resonate with the hope that Christ offer to those who feel lost and forsaken in danger of despair. 

Father faces his own challenges behind bars:

I can sometimes become so aware of the spiritual warfare that engulfs me here that it diminishes my awareness of the wounds of others. We are all, in one way or another, wounded by life physically, emotionally, spiritually, and it dulls our senses.

It drives us onto self-centered islands of emotional distance and spiritual isolation. The wounds we carry foster pessimism and doubt, erode faith, and turn the joy of living into a crucible of mere existence. Peace evades wounded warriors, even in spiritual warfare. 

This is the great plague of our age. I receive lots of mail from readers asking me to pray for a husband or wife, a son or daughter, who has lost their faith in response to the wounds of life and the sheer weight of living. In a war with one’s self, faith is often the first to go and the last to come back. If this describes you or someone in your life, then pay special attention to the Apostle Thomas in the Gospel from Saint John on Divine Mercy Sunday.

As I read Father's article, I thought of my own sister, bedridden and helpless in a nursing home about 90 minutes away. Because of the distance I can only go once a week and even that is a challenge at my age. My kind and generous husband almost always goes with me despite his own health problems. The visits aren't always pleasant; they generally involve a litany of complaints and self-pity. Jeanne is experiencing the most difficult suffering of all. There is no hope of recovery. Her future outlook consists of increasing disability, pain and discomfort, and death. 

Despite being a cradle Catholic who was active in her parish and taught religious education, Jeanne is hostile if I bring up faith. So instead of inviting her to pray with us, I just say, "We're going to pray a decade of the rosary," and hope that listening to the repetitive prayers will soothe her spirit and provide an island of calm and bit of peace in her suffering. 

We all need peace of soul. We all need to rest in the arms of the Prince of Peace and His mother Mary. Reading Father's article brought to mind many I know who suffer physical and spiritual pain. Those twins of suffering affect all of us, some more some less. In this week that we reflect on Divine Mercy, let us pray for the peace that passes all understanding. The world can't give it; only Jesus can. 

Read Father's article. His own suffering has made him a master of the spiritual life. We all need guides and mentors. He certainly represents one for me.

May Jesus Christ be praised!