In years past, I observed the Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus by saying the novena and prayers of reparation associated with the feast. Today, being the feast day again, I felt the need to bring a gift for His Heart. In the tiptoe of a moment, I remembered His Call – Bring Me Souls. So, I offered up the Chaplet of Tears for the Holy Souls and for others in need. About to go off to the duties of the working day, I paused to do a quick ‘check’ to see if there was anything else.
It was then that I recalled a morning dream. Someone from work who was causing us much grief had asked me for a calendar. This person, who in reality had a sword for a tongue, appeared weary and out-of-sorts in the dream. I moved to comply, digging through my bag for that calendar she wanted.
My bag was a mess. Instead of the calendar, I kept taking out an assortment of Christian books and Christian CDs. It tickled her gently as the pile in her waiting hands grew, and she passed a comment I cannot recall now. I was slightly uneasy that all I seemed to unearth were Christian stuff.
Uneasy because this waiting person was a Muslim.
Pondering this during my Holy Hour of sorts, I decided it was a call to bring this soul to God. I must admit that I had to tie tight my heart to the tree of obedience, because in real life, I was struggling a lot with this woman. She was someone I worked with, and she had the voice of authority which she used and abused to her advantage and on every flight of black passions. A woman of much intelligence, she cheated on her work and slyly taught and exhorted others to do the same. She was also a firm believer in the need for abortions to end inconvenient pregnancies and those where there might be a threat of a special needs child being born. She counselled our other colleagues to worship at the altar of Self, and taught them to put themselves first in their marriage and motherhood.
Finding no peace in her own marriage to a phlegmatic husband she wished showed a bit more fire when necessary, and seeing her children as parasites out to level her money mound, in a determined way, she wounded and maimed marriage and family for others. Any attempt on my part to dissuade her resulted in vicious bites that never seemed to end.
Certainly the last person I could have prayed for with any human love.
And yet, in the early hours of this day where orange breezes thrilled through green boughs, someone placed her at the door of my mutinous heart.
She had become who she is because of the lethal restlessness of a homeless soul. Wrongdoing makes for an uncomfortable pillow, and she had nowhere to rest. It was the call of the Divine Will that I reach out in mercy and give her a home. It was not a call I could wrestle out from.
So, I placed this ill lady in the Sacred Heart. Sacred Heart of Jesus, I rest her soul in You.
She had asked for a calendar. I could not give her what she wanted, but I pray I have given her the place of rest her soul needed, in the supreme Home of Mercy.