The Holy Spirit in my Life (Continued)

 After I was prayed with for ‘Baptism of the Holy Spirit’ I began to have amazing responses to my requests from God.  When I was expecting our fourth daughter, my winter coat would not close.  I wouldn’t purchase another one, because my coat would be fine the next winter.  My older sister, a Sister of Charity, visited me and gave me a black cloth coat with a mink lining.  I pulled it out of the closet since I needed a coat that fit me for the New York winter.  As I did, my husband looked at me and asked where the coat came from.  Turns out that he was praying I would get a new coat!

In the Spring of 1975, at five months pregnant, I started to lose our fifth baby and had to stay on the couch for a week.  Two of the prayer group leaders came to the house and prayed over me.   Some of the older women were kind enough to clean.   Well, the tear healed and that little girl was born healthy right around her due date.

When the same daughter was around two years old, her clothing consisted of hand-me-downs from boy cousins.  I looked at her one day and asked the Lord to send me some girl’s clothes.  About a week later, we received a box from a former coworker in IBM.  As I opened the box, I was amazed at the outfits … one more beautiful than the other.  Her daughter had outgrown the clothing that was purchased from B. Altman in New York City, her husband’s employer.  Up until now the only correspondence with this woman had been through Christmas cards.

There were many other instances of answered prayer, but unfortunately, memory fails.  I remember at one point my pastor allowed me to create a newsletter about answer prayer.  I called it “God Cares.”  Parishioners gave me their accounts of how God answered their prayers.   It was quite uplifting.  

In 1977, our seventh child, Micah, was born with Down Syndrome.  Micah could not be released from the hospital and he remained in a ‘special’ nursery.  Two of our older children were ‘preemies,’ so I didn’t like it but understood.  A few days later, medical tests showed a heart problem, which was of real concern.   Micah was born on a Saturday night and on Tuesday evening, the somber doctor gave me the test results.  After the doctor left my bedside, I immediately called Terry because Tuesday night was the prayer meeting at her house.   A few weeks later, Terry told me that she was upset with the news, because on Sunday morning, the day after Micah was born, she had thought of me and wondered if I had given birth yet.  Immediately, the words, “Mongoloid child” came across her mind.  She just dismissed the thought and went on with her day.  After my phone call requesting prayer, she felt badly about dismissing any thought about it .  As to Micah, we were referred to a pediatric cardiac specialist in New York City.   A few months later, a cardiac catheterization showed that his heart had no wall at all … only a membrane separating his good blood from his bad.  The medical term is Complete AV Canal Defect.  Micah lived 6 years.  During that time, I prayed over him in his cradle, then his crib and finally as he went on a school bus to a special school every day.  I wrote about this in “The Book of Micah,” so suffice it to say that God taught me a lot during that time. Even though the repair of the heart was successful, Micah died from lung damage.

Healing Services

My first exposure to a Healing Service was when I took a nine-hour bus ride from New York City to Pittsburgh.  The woman with the Healing Ministry was Kathryn Kulhman, a Baptist Minister.  Time flew by, four hours seemed like one hour.  There were many hymns of praise followed by personal accounts of healings as told by attendees .  Kathryn never personally prayed with anyone until they said they felt something or could now walk, etc.  Then she would pray with them.  She wanted everyone to know it was the Holy Spirit doing the healing, not her.

After Micah was born, we started attending Healing Services held by Roman Catholic Priests, Father Edward McDonough in Boston and Father Ralph D’Orio in Worcester, MA.   They began with hymns of praise and lasted two to three hours, which just flew by.  These services were also immensely powerful.  The accounts of these trips to Massachusetts are in “The Book of Micah”.

 I encourage anyone in need of healing to seek out a Church that offers it.

Last year, while driving in New York, I started to pray and then asked, “How do you know who is praying to you?”  The answer was immediate!  I believe that God said, “There’s a bit of me in every baby born.”  I felt a pang in my heart as I thought of all the millions of abortions.  Just then, I had a fleeting mental image of Jesus with a tear in his eye.

Thanks for taking the time to check out my blog. 

  The Book of Micah by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com) 

Perhaps by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com)

 

The Holy Spirit in my Life (Continued)

 One night at Terry’s house, while the group was praying, the phone rang.  The caller was an Episcopal priest, who knew she hosted a Prayer Meeting.  One of the young men in the Priest’s teen group was thought to have overdosed and they couldn’t find him.  Terry related the prayer request, and we prayed.  Just then, a thought entered my mind … where could he be.  Immediately a memory of a long line of poplar trees I had seen on a trip to Niagara Falls came to my mind.  I was startled and left the room.  I sat in the den, trying to make sense of it all.  After all, I had silently asked, “Where could he be?”  A few minutes later, Terry joined me asking if I was okay.  I related my experience to her.   She responded that it was totally my choice to tell the group or not.  I thought to myself, “I’ll never know if I don’t tell.”  So, I rejoined the group that was still praying.   When it was quiet, I shared my experience.  Some of the men urged the group to keep praying.   Then, one man shared that he saw in his mind, a church.  Another man shared that he saw a graveyard next to a church.  That was it.  Terry quickly phoned the Episcopal priest and told him.

Two weeks later, I attended the prayer meeting at Terry’s house.  She and her husband were so excited to see me at the door.  They told me that the priest who phoned for prayer knew the location we described but didn’t check any further that night.  However, they found this young man the next morning and asked where he had been the night before.  He related the place with the exact description we gave.  I was amazed.  It was just another learning experience for me.

The Charismatic Prayer Meetings continued to draw more and more people. Because more space was needed, the leaders, all parishioners, obtained permission to meet at our Church’s gym on Friday nights.  The prayer meetings grew in number.  Sometimes I would receive a “word from God” which I, in faith, would share with the group.   Once, someone shared a word speaking in ‘tongues.’  I declined to interpret the words that came to my mind.  Scripture instructs that an interpretation should follow.  I didn’t feel worthy of doing that.  At that point, a man, at the other side of the large hall, shared the very same words!  I don’t remember the words, but for me it was a lesson to trust God more.    I also would occasionally receive a word from the Holy Spirit that a healing was occurring at the prayer meeting.  I knew what was being healed, but not the person.  Once after a large prayer meeting, a person requested prayer.  I joined the small group that encircled that person.  As we prayed, I shared that I believed someone was receiving a healing at that moment.  A young woman exclaimed that it was her.  Her finger was healed.  In my mind, I thought, “Such a little thing.”  Immediately, I felt a correction from the Holy Spirit.  The words in my mind were, “Don’t ever belittle what I do.”  I never did again.

After a few months, I wanted to make sure that this was all okay.  So, I requested an appointment with our Bishop at the time, Bishop Pernicone in Poughkeepsie, NY.  On the day of the appointment, my husband told me I had to kiss the Bishop’s ring.  I had never met a Bishop other than at my Confirmation.  When I met him and tried to kiss his ring, he told me, “We’ll have none of that” and he invited me to sit.  I related my concern as to what was happening in my life.  I thought I was being called to be a missionary.  How could I do that with four children?  The Bishop assured me that what I was experiencing was good.  He also told me that he was familiar with prayer group and had attended a few times.

Sometime later at a prayer meeting, I met another Oblate of Mary Immaculate priest, Father Bagen.  He knew the priest who directed me to my first prayer meeting.  After a while, I asked him if he would be my spiritual director. I would never do something that God didn’t want for me and felt that I needed someone to tell me if I was on the right path, spiritually.  I didn’t know when I asked that he was the Rector of the Seminary, but he still agreed to be my Spiritual Director.  As God continued to give me a “Prophecy” or “Word of Knowledge”, Father Bagen would make sure I was balanced and helped me to grow.  With my family growing in number, we did not meet often, but he would guide me through everything I had experienced.  Sometime later he was transferred to Florida.  Just about that time, a new pastor was assigned to our church.  He allowed the Prayer Group to continue in the School gym.  By now, there were about 200 – 300 people attending the Prayer Meeting.  The ‘Praise and Worship’ was wonderful.  Three of the four leaders were also members of Cursillo.   One of the leaders, knowledgeable in Canon Law, was especially well accepted by the priests of the parish, though they never personally attended.

 During that time, one of the ladies from the Prayer Group invited me to attend a ‘healing service’ in Albany, New York.   Six women from our area attended.  It was held in a Protestant Church and the speaker was a woman from Florida.  After the service my friend, Pat, introduced me to a woman from our area, who attended the service to pray for a healing for her young son.  Later that week, while I was ironing, the Lord reminded me of that woman.  He told me (in my mind) that if I would pray for the child, He would heal him.  I again, was taken aback, so I immediately phoned Pat, who took me to the healing service in Albany.  She said the child’s father was an atheist, so she would pray about it.  She had been in the Prayer Group community for a few years, so I trusted in her and went on with my family responsibilities.  A few days later, Pat phoned and told me that the child’s father would approve of our praying with the child, if we didn’t scare him.   Shortly thereafter, Pat and I visited their home with my two little ones in tow.  Only then, did I find out that her child had Cerebral Palsy.  That daunted me.  I probably would never have stepped out if I knew that.  We drank coffee and talked while the children played.   We agreed to lay hands on the child’s mother and pray while she put her hands on the child’s shoulders, as they ate their snacks.  Nothing happened that day or any day, for four months.  I was very discouraged.  I had stepped out because I believed that God told me to do something.  Then, one night at a Friday night Prayer Meeting, the mother rushed over to me.  She had just returned from the child’s specialist in New York City.  The mother told me that this doctor had tears in his eyes, as he told her to take off the child’s braces.  It was about seven years later, at a Vacation Bible School, that I saw the child again. He looked like just like any other teenager.

 (To be continued)

Thanks for taking the time to check out my blog. 

  The Book of Micah by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com) 

Perhaps by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com)

The Holy Spirit in my Life (Continued)

 

 My sister and my parents delivered the Tempest.  My father suggested I have the oil changed.  One day that week, I dressed the children in their winter coats and hats.  As I turned the key, the car would not start.  I asked a neighbor if she could loan us cables to start my car.  She had none.  Now, what were we going to do?  I didn’t really want to have to go through the preparations again on another day, so I asked my husband if he would turn the ignition while I laid hands on the hood of the car and prayed.  My husband thought I was crazy, but acquiesced.  After three tries, the car started.  I told my neighbor that we started the car.  When she asked how, I told her.  She didn’t doubt me, because everyone else in our small apartment complex was away at work.  Then, our little family drove off to the repair shop.  Later that afternoon, she told me she found a Bible and was going to start reading it again.

We didn’t have the Tempest long due to a mechanic’s error, so we were back to one car.  That winter, my husband had a car accident.  A work colleague, Frank, saw the whole thing and stopped.  He drove my husband home and told me that my husband’s car slid on the ‘black ice’ and just missed going into a ravine.  Now we had no car.  The next day, I could feel my husband’s anxiety.  He was a manager and needed to get to work.  I reminded him that we prayed.  Just then, we received a phone call from my husband’s sister, Viola.  She heard about the accident from my mother-in-law.  Viola offered the loan of a car until we were able to find a new one.   Her 14 year old Volkswagen Beetle had more than 220,000 miles on it.  At least he could back and forth to work.  After purchasing a used car, we returned the Beetle seven weeks later. Within two weeks, the Beetle totally died.  

The babysitter’s Mom, a Roman Catholic, phoned me with a prayer request for her next door neighbor, whose husband left her to live with someone else.  About three weeks, later the babysitter’s Mom phoned again.  She told me, “Nothing has happened yet.”  I was stymied and told her that maybe God wanted her to attend a prayer meeting.  The next Friday night, she and her sister came to the prayer meeting bringing that neighbor, MaryLou.  After we moved, Marylou would visit me and we would pray.  Two years to the day he left, Marylou’s husband knocked on the front door of their house and asked if he could come home.  They went to their Presbyterian pastor, had counseling and remarried.  Five years later, one evening they phoned me to say that they were celebrating their Fifth Anniversary of being together again. 

Someone at the prayer meeting told us about a nice parish near-by.  So, we drove to check it out.  We attended for some months and then decided to purchase a home in that town.  We were saving for a home, so every penny mattered to a young couple with four children.  They needed sweaters, so I asked the Lord to provide.  That weekend we went to visit another sister.  She gave me a bag of clothing as we left.  When I put the children to bed, I opened the bag and there inside the bag were four sweaters.  I was learning that God truly did answer prayer.

We found our new home in a small town near the Church we had been attending.  It enabled me to meet more ‘Catholic Charismatic Prayer Meeting’ people.  I attended the prayer meeting in the Franciscan Retreat House every Friday night and occasionally the prayer meeting in Terry’s house … both in the next town.  Both prayer meetings offered the Lord praise and worship, which God loves.

One Saturday morning, I attended a breakfast meeting in the ballroom of a local Ramada Inn.   The Speaker closed with a prayer. As I listened to the prayer, a mental image of Hell appeared in my mind.  It looked like fire on top of water with men and women screaming at me, yelling “Tell them it’s real. Tell them it’s real.”  I was startled.  It was the 70’s and I remember Priests telling us that Hell was really just a ‘state of being” where we could never be in God’s presence.  That vision in my mind settled it for me and I’ve never forgotten that moment.   Since that day, I shudder when people joke about Hell.

  (To be continued)

Thanks for taking the time to check out my blog. 

  The Book of Micah by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com) 

Perhaps by Catherine Hall (Amazon.com)