A Mother Never Abandons Her Child

When Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. (John 15:26-27)

From this very moment Our Blessed Lord gave to each and every one of us, but especially baptized Christians, His mother – the Blessed Virgin Mary – as our own. He gave her to us not only as His masterpiece of salvation through His Grace in her Immaculate Conception but also as a representation of the Church, His ideal disciple and Our Queen Mother who brings our petitions to Him with great influence (John 2:1-12).

While on travel recently I realized the great influence Mary has in heaven and put this to the test one night as I lay sleeping in my hotel room. Normally I do not recall any of my dreams but this night was different.

The vision I had was looking down on these event yet closely immersed in the happenings. The setting was an odd mixture of a Baroque or Renaissance era religious painting in the background but real and tangible individuals in the foreground.

What I witnessed was that my father was being tormented by a demon. This began to distress me to know end because although I could not see the foul creature but I knew that he was causing my father great misery and an overall sense of dread and despair. Immediately I recalled a statement I heard Catholic Lay Evangelist Jesse Romero say about praying to Our Blessed Mother, the Ave Maria or Hail Mary, when confronted with such a demonic presence. This short, yet powerful request for her Holy protection was the only prayer I could think of and the only words that I could even utter.

At first my prayer was soft, dry, mumbled and broken. But as I repeated my petition to Mary for the deliverance of my father from this beast it became stronger, clearer and said with great confidence. Soon I was able to ask St. Michael the Archangel and worked my way to the Our Father, the Glory Be and eventually was able to scream aloud in my dream “JESUS, MERCY!” At that moment my father was freed.

Yet now I became the focus. The cold touch of a serpent coiled round my neck, squeezing my esophagus clogging my prayer. In my dream I finally saw the creature – the demon. It took the form of a beautiful, dark-haired woman. She was slender and dressed in a red, velvet gown – her left arm around my throat choking and holding my as a shield against those whom I invoked against her.

It took nothing more than a split second to jolt me from this dream. And my first instinct was to run to my mother as if I was 5-years-old again. Yet, I was alone in a hotel room on the other side of the country. Far from my wife and children and even farther from my mother who would not doubt comfort her son no matter his age. But I did not forget my Mother in Heaven.

Jesus Himself, My Lord and My God, consecrated her to me and me to her on Calvary as He hung bloodied and mutilated for my sin. He loves me so much as to share His most perfect creature with me, an unworthy dog. A perpetual sinner. And to Him I gave thanks for her and to her I gave thanks for comforting me.

I reached for my Rosary and found the blessed sacramental broken at the top of the Crucifix. I held the two pieces together and prayed a decade of the Rosary to the best of my ability and asked that she watch over me, my father and mother but most importantly my children and wife who were so far away as I instinctively felt that a hungry lion prowled around my home waiting to devour them. The time in Portland was nearing 1am which meant that all this was going down it was just after 3am on the East Coast. This hour has often been noted as the witching hour.

The chill in my spine was warmed by the embrace of my Blessed Mother in Heaven and the knowledge that St. Michael, my own guardian and Jesus Himself were their by my side and watching over those I love.

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