Every time I ran from Him, I ended up at the front door, to only open it – and see Him standing in my doorway. I could never escape Him.

(continued from last nights blog)… I slept eyes wide open, but the mattress was too kind and after soaking half of my pillow with tears and flipping it to the other side, I must have drifted off because I woke up to the sun blaring in my eyes. Thinking what a bad nights sleep that was, I then instantly remembered. I remembered picking up the phone, so happy, no more than 24 hours ago, that summers afternoon, just getting home from work and taking a fresh shower and slipping into a sundress – I had just finished spritzing on my perfume, when I picked up the phone – and Joey told me that he wasn’t coming home – that he needed a break.

Sitting up and looking over at the clock, 6:25 AM. I had slept for less than three hours. My pillow was still wet and then I realized that what I thought had been a bad nights sleep, was reality. It was my reality. I had fallen asleep in my sundress. I didn’t want get out of bed and so I laid back down, feeling dizzy. I turned to the right and I grabbed the pillow that Joey would have been sleeping on and I embraced it so tightly. I was curled in a fetal position on my bed. I had just turned 30 years old and I knew that I had been through the ringer too many times. At that point, in that moment, I was damaged goods and I knew it. I knew that I was two steps away from selling my soul to the devil to get rid of the pain that I was feeling in that moment or that I was going to be on my way to sainthood by trying to get through this – because I could no longer take what God was dealing to me in my life. I couldn’t do it anymore and every time I would say I couldn’t do it – I knew that I was going to keep moving forward – but this time – this time – I was a different kind of tired. I thought about my kids and I thought about how I really probably wasn’t being the best kind of mother that I could’ve been because in reality, sometimes I felt like that little girl standing in front of my bed when I was seven trying to change the channel in my head to make everything stop. To make the screaming and yelling of my parents stop. To stop the sounds of the things being thrown in the kitchen, to wanting to hear and praying for tornadoes to go through because there was a cyclone in my life every day and there was never a time of peace and here I was 23 years later, I still had no peace. I was still struggling. I was still suffering. I was still waiting on that promise that God showed me when I was 17 years old. I wanted to call out to God in that moment, “Where are You? Are You really real? Have I been taken for? Are You a fantasy God? Are You someone that just makes people feel better, to get through a bad day like my bad day right now?” I wanted to ask Him all of those questions, but I didn’t want Him to answer me because I didn’t want to hear the truth. Because every time that I did pray for an answer, I got it and He was always right and I knew what He would tell me to do in that moment and I didn’t want to do it. I reasoned with myself that He lied to me again. He let me down again. I’m here again crouched, crying again God. Will it never stop God? It will never stop, right God? When is it ever going to stop? Because how much more God? How much more?! I was so angry with God. I was so angry with Him! I was alone again. I was alone. I was alone because I wanted to be alone and I cried so badly because the pain was too much. I could smell his aftershave on the pillow and I embraced it because I was so confused because I didn’t understand what was going on. The man that had just made love to me that morning and as we kissed each other goodbye he said that he would see me that afternoon for a dinner that we had planned while his mother was going to take the kids for us.

For 13 years, I awoke and fell asleep next to my husband. But this morning, this morning I was waking up to a new reality I did not think I would ever experience. When Joey and I first met, we spoke about our lives. He told me about his life and I told him very little about mine. The only thing I told him was about my father and mother, explaining to him that my fathers extramarital affair did irreversible damage to my mother, when what I wanted to really tell him was that while it did irreversible damage to her, it’s damage to me was beyond my own comprehension.

I would’ve rather my mother been suffocating me again, causing me to die than to have lived through an affair. You see I was that woman who just would make everything work. It didn’t matter what it was – give me a challenge and watch me rise to the top. I was the woman that would wear white gloves while putting Ketchup on a burger. I would just make it work, and I was truly flawless every time. As a child, when your innocence is taken away from you, again, and again, and again, in every kind of abuse that a child can endure, you learn construction in destruction, you learn to build your foundations out of tungsten. But this time, this morning, I didn’t have the welts from my mothers beating from the night before. No. I didn’t have anything to feel and that was the scariest thing to me in the world because I was left with my rawness. I was left with the truth that I gave a man 13 years of my life and during those 13 years of our life, there was more chaos than there was peace. Our first date did not work out as Joey had to work late that evening and no call to tell me that he could not make it. Our second date would not be because his parents had taken away his car from him and he wasn’t allowed out – no call and the third date, I believe that he knew that he was about to lose me and I believe I learned something about myself that day as well too.

I had just turned 17 years old. We were working together for several weeks but never spoke to each other. One of his friends came up to me one day and told me that there was a guy who was interested in me and was wondering if I was dating anyone.

I wanted to laugh and tell him to tell Joey that I was only steps away from entering into a Convent, but I didn’t say that, because I remembered sitting in that first pew and talking to God and understanding that I was going to marry and that I was going to have children and that I was not going to have what I wanted but I was going to have what He needed me to have. I also understood that the choice would be mine to either decide to walk with God or to go down my own path and while the rebellion in me walked away from God – it seems – 1000 times – down my own path …He would never leave me. I tried to run from Him. Every time I ran from Him, I ended up at the front door, to only open it – and to see Him standing in my doorway. I could never escape God. He was always Present. Always right there. I always felt His Presence. I could shun Him and He just would not leave me and I felt angry in that moment, lying in that bed, I felt angry that He was there because I didn’t understand how can you love someone so much and see them go through so much hurt and not try to stop it. It was nonsensical. God knows that I am His feisty daughter and He knows that I fight Him on everything and then He knows I love Him like anything and He knows I would go to each corner of the earth and slay every demon for Him, and we have always had that kind of a relationship. The broken girl in love with Jesus. The Love of her life, hanging on a Crucifix, just as bloodied and broken as she was. My Bloodied King with The Crown of Jewels, shining so brightly, reflecting what is to come, cover me, complete me.

Jesus is the only Man that can break me and hurt me so badly with a clear understanding that pain is part of breaking myself of my own will – to conform to His.

I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, the eyes that were in the mirror were reflecting a woman’s soul that was nonexistent.

I started having flashbacks when I was in high school and being judged by girls who didn’t even know me. I was being judged because of the way that I looked. Because of the way that God made me. I never understood that. How can another woman judge another woman by the way that she looks and they don’t even know who she is? Because she put some make up on and she dresses nice? When was that ever a crime? And so I suffered in every area of my life because when I tried to have friends all was well until their boyfriend would meet me and I was always respectful. I wasn’t stupid, I knew what I was dealing with. I grew up with a mother that lived it and dealt with the same exact thing but she took it to the extreme wrong while I took it to the other extreme trying to avoid any of my friends boyfriends and sometimes it would work out, and sometimes it would not. And when it would work out it would be great and when it was bad, it was bad. I was in high school one day, walking with my friend and I hear coming from behind me “You’re a disease, Brian.” I turned around to look and this girl was making a scene because her boyfriend was staring at me with his friends and he turned around and told her, “and she’s my cure.” So even though I did nothing to provoke – I couldn’t have friends because even that was tainted by who people thought I was.

At the age of 13, a man who was 21 took my innocence away while he held a butcher knife to my neck and I have to wonder if it was part of a generational curse because the same exact thing happened to my mother at the same age but she ended up pregnant and having a child and then giving the child up for adoption. I did not become pregnant, but what would follow for years to come would be difficult.  The person who did this to me was brought to justice.

My mother taught me about being a lady, but she never taught me how to protect myself, how to look out for certain signs and my father did not either. I was left alone to figure those things out on my own. I trusted too easily. This man who did this would tell me that he didn’t believe that I was that young because I was too beautiful to be only 13, but I was only 13 and I was always told since I was young that I looked older than I was as a teenager and as I’m older – looking younger than I am as an adult. The same thing that my mother dealt with. I couldn’t escape anything in life it seemed because I looked like my mother, I was abused by my mother, I was abused by my mother up until the day that she passed away. My mother taught me without telling me how a young girl was really supposed to be. And I learned it by watching every single thing that she did and I made sure to do the opposite of that. I was 11 years old, in the McDonald’s parking lot with my mother. We had just finished playing with the balls inside of the McDonald’s little gym area. I was so happy to have my happy meal cheeseburger and my favorite thing in the meal that day was A little pony and I knew I was going to be adding that pony to the corral with the rest of my other pony’s.

All of my Chapstick was taken off by my cheeseburger happy meal. And so before I got into the car with my mother, I took out my cherry Chapstick and my strawberry shortcake mirror and I began to put my Chapstick on as I was looking in the mirror. As I was done, I looked up and I saw my mother looking at me and she was smiling. I wasn’t too much shorter than my mother but she was still taller than me so she was looking into my eyes and smiling. And I knew that smile because that was an admiration smile that I would only see once in a while and that was when she was looking at something that she was happy with. “Honey, look over there. “Mom said. I raised my eyes to see what Mom was looking at and mom was looking at two men that were outside of a truck. I looked and they looked like my dad’s age. I looked back at my mom and was quizzical and she said, “Honey, they are looking at you because you’re putting on your Chapstick, they like that.” I was 11 and I knew that what she was saying was not right because those men looked the age of my dad and I looked at my mother with caring eyes because I was already in the stage of protecting her, as I had seen her go through several bipolar episodes and I understood at the age of 11 to not take account of what it is that she was saying.

From that moment on, something in me changed to be sure that I would always dress as conservatively as I could. I was in the fifth grade, Mrs. Netos class and I used to get to school early so I could help the teacher get the class work assignments ready. I absolutely loved being in the classroom and being with my teacher and helping her to get everything prepped for the day. And she was so kind to me and she had so much patience for me. And I remember the people in my life that had patience for me. I remember when times got hard with my mother she was one of the teachers that I was able to confide in and I remember she was the only teacher that I was able to cry in front of. For me to cry in front of somebody, it was a vulnerability to me and I either crucified myself afterwards for being vulnerable or I thanked God that He allowed me to be vulnerable in that moment but it was always black-and-white, there was no gray area. I either trusted or I didn’t.

As the students walked into the classroom, my back was turned and I was standing in front of the taupe tall steel cabinet. I was sorting the paperwork to get them stapled and I heard one of my friends say, “Is that a substitute teacher?” I was not a substitute teacher but they thought I was because of the way that I dressed. After that incident happened with my mother I made decisions to do everything to not be anything like her -especially when I knew that what she was doing was wrong. When I heard my friends say that, in my heart, I had already known that I wanted to be a teacher from a young age. To be able to teach somebody something they never knew before, whether that be a skill, or a poem, or if somebody just needed to know their worth, I was there, because I had a storehouse of love to give and I had a shipyards storage for everybody’s grievances so I would give and then take. I would give and then I would take and I would walk away always taking something from them and carrying it with me to lighten their load.

I could never lighten my own load in life. And I was faced with this reality.

I walked back into the bedroom and opened up Joey’s bureau drawer and under his socks I found a card for a divorce lawyer.

…. to be continued.

The Numbed Soul

… (continued from prior blog) The Summer of 2005 would come and go. Mom went back to Milford and I stayed on Cape Cod. That Summer would be the year that my life would forever change as I knew it. My marriage was changing, I knew it, my husband knew it. Our children were beginning to feel things, to hear things. My sons would walk past me and glance a little longer in my eyes and I was making extra trips to the drugstore to buy eyedrops to take away the red from sleepless nights and repressed tears.

I was in a glass house. I was in a glass house where there was no transparency. A sublime state between sanctity and insanity. I was living life by just purely existing. I could not escape my reality. I could not change what was happening. I could not run from the truth. I wanted to unzip my soul from my body and give it back to God before I unintentionally would hurt Him because I no longer cared anymore. I was the good girl my whole life, always following by the rules, no drinking, no drugging, the girl who would give her shirt off of her back to the person that was sticking the knife in her side.  The good girl who always dressed sweet, the good girl that would bake cupcakes and cookies for everybody because she loved to see people happy and smile. The neighborhood Mom who the neighborhood kids would come over and was known as the candy lady because she always gave candy and snacks and sweet treats – and I did all of these things because nobody would do them for me – and I gave, and I gave, and I gave so much to the point that when I looked behind me I couldn’t find me anymore. I was distributed among different people. People who in reality, would have never given me a moment of their time – but I always gave a moment of my time because I knew what it was to be alone. So I filled all those empty spots in my life with kindness and love – to give away, only to have the recipients take, and take, and take. I wanted to be reckless. What my heart did not want to accept was something that my soul already knew. I had reached a point where I knew that something broke in me. I had to escape my own skin because to be in it one moment longer was unbearable.

I met Joey when I was 17 years old. I was working two jobs. Not having a car, I had to walk everywhere and so I would walk miles and miles a day in the morning after weekday Mass to get to my first job which was cleaning a high end resort on Cape Cod. After my job was done at 3:00 PM, I would walk to my second job which was in retail. When that job ended at 9:00 PM I would walk home. I had only known hard work my entire life, so working two jobs was something that made me happy. I enjoyed being independent and making my own money. I relied on no one as I had my entire life. When I needed groceries, I would go food shopping and I would have to carry them home and walk miles just to get home. When my laundry had to be washed I walked my laundry down to the laundromat and then walk it back home. I never once felt bad for myself because this was normalcy to me. Independence became my drug. I craved it. I needed it for control, because everything else in my life was out of control, my independence grew in my DNA and in the end it would overtake my being. For me to rely on someone was weakness and in my early 30s, God had had quite enough of my ways.

September 2005, the kids went back to school. Ryan began the seventh grade and Andrew was in the first grade. A new beginning for the children as Ryan was starting junior high and Andrew was a first grader. It was an exciting time for the kids and to see their joy carried me a lot that Autumn going into the Winter.

Six weeks prior to the beginning of school that September, I would get a phone call from Joey. “I need some time.” , he said. Thinking that he was being funny, I asked him over the receiver, “What are you saying? “ ”I’m not coming home tonight.”, Joey said. “Excuse me?”, I asked, my mind racing and my heart beating out of my chest. Silence on the other end of the line. “Joey?”, I said in a hostile voice, “what is going on?”  I began thinking to myself that this was not really happening. I must have walked in on someone else’s life in that moment because as I was standing in my bedroom, holding the cordless phone in my hand, I was completely nauseated. The biggest fear of my life was happening in that moment. The reality that I was feeling for almost a year, every sign that I had seen, every late work day, every call sent to voicemail too quickly, hit me like a Cyclone and I had nothing to hold onto in that moment. I was completely alone. I was completely alone because I was insistent on being completely alone. I looked to the Crucifix on my wall and I looked into the Eyes of Jesus Christ. I raised my eyes to the ceiling and I bit my bottom lip wanting to taste my own blood as hot tears streamed down my eyes and there was nothing in me. I was not human in that moment. I was nonexistent. My life had never been. I was being sucked into this black despair and I didn’t care. I wanted to take the hand of darkness, I wanted to feel what It felt like to be every single person that hurt me, how do you become like that? I wanted to know, I needed to know, because I need to become that person. I wanted to take the Devil’s hand and to tell him OK this time you can have me because Heaven cannot be worth this much pain. 

”Do what you have to do Joey.”, I said and hung up the phone. Grabbing my Marlboro Lights and going out to the deck I lit a cigarette and by the time I was done with that cigarette I was going onto my second one. I didn’t remember smoking the first one, only going in for the second one. I looked over to the fence in my yard, a weathered Cape Cod gray. I looked over to the right, beautiful gazebo. I looked to the lush florals that Joey and I had planted as a couple, the flowers that would bloom every year, the plants that we purchased together for our anniversaries. The dreams, the promises, the lies, the deceit. Me thinking that if I was just the perfect wife. I thought that I was the perfect wife because people would tell me that I was. The wife who would cook meals for her family every night, who worked a full-time job and took care of her children. A home that was always clean, children that always had ironed clothes and good mannerisms. I was two steps away from a Stepford Wife.

I walked back into the house and I made dinner for Ryan and Andrew. Not a tear fell. Smiles that were truly genuine when I looked at my children. I was being held up by angels when I look back because that night would not turn out to be the worst night of my marriage. That night would come on December 31 of 2005.

“Hey Mom, do you have a second? “, I spoke into the receiver. “Of course baby girl, what’s going on? “, Mom asked. The kids were sleeping in bed and I walked back outside on my deck, lighting another cigarette. “Mom “he’s not coming home tonight. “, I said trying to maintain a steel demeanor. I was desperate for someone to tell me that I was not a bad person, that I was a good wife, that I was a good mother, that I was just a good person. I needed to know that I was human. I needed to know that I was visible. I wanted to know if I was worth fighting for. I was desperate to know if I was worth living. I didn’t understand, perhaps there was a sign on me that was invisible – that I was not aware of – that kept on saying, “hurt me, hurt me, because I will always come back.” And I knew that that was the truth – that was my reality. I wanted to know if I was worth fighting for. Was there anything good about me?

“Melissa, what? “, Mom asked. Sipping on Bacardi and Coke and lighting another Marlboro light, I put my palm to my head and rested my elbow on my knee. I heard the mosquitoes around me and they were so loud, the crickets seem to have been singing this insane instrumental orchestra. Everything was so loud in that moment. All the sewing back of myself that I had done, was coming unloose. I felt the breeze going through me and I pictured the wind opening up the seams of the sewed back broken girl. And I was okay with that. I no longer was the woman that I was earlier that afternoon. I was in a moment of surrealities. My husband was in the arms of another woman. I was sitting on my deck, selling myself for an emotional need as I was settling for the woman that I know would give me the worst advice in the world. I understood that I was signing a disclosure the moment that I decided to pick up my phone and dial her number. I didn’t care. Why not go back to the root of the problem? Why not believe all of the lies that she had said when I was a child because my husband was not seeing me as any better than my mother was supposed to and the two people who were supposed to love me the most, well, if I was bad in their eyes, then my reality was was that I was truly nothing and I accepted that nothingness in that moment. I was defeated. I was tired. I was lost in that moment. I didn’t ask for God in any of those moments that day.  I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be loved anymore. Love came at too high of a price, my entire life. That price tag became too much to hold on to. My whole life, I was trying to live for everybody else but myself. I felt disintegrated. I was dandelions in the wind. I was absence in presence. I was arriving to only depart. I wanted to become carefully careless. I was dying every day of my life to only live in a hellish reality of wanting to enter into an exit. There was nothing left of me in that moment. The pain was so deep and the feeling was too painful.  

Opening the slider door, walking inside and looking around my living room, I saw the photos of the happy faces hanging in frames. My eyes went to a photo of Joey and I. I sat there in that moment and stared at that photo from the slider. Remembering that afternoon that we smiled so much in the photo and believing that love was real. Believing that God had really kept His Promise to me, after so many years of a painful life. After me deciding to not enter a Convent to become His Bride. I had a flashback to when I was 17 years old, sitting in the first pew at my Church and telling God, “Yes God, if You choose for me to get married and have children, I want only what you want and may Your Will be done in my life.”

I walked through my home and turned off all the lights and walked up the stairs to my bedroom. As I walked into the bedroom I looked at our bed. I looked at the bed that had conceived our children. I looked at the bed that I shared with the man that God had chosen for me. I looked at Joey’s clothes that I had gotten ready for him and were sitting at the end of the bed in a nice neat pile as they always were for him. I walked over to the clothes and put them away. I went over to my bureau drawer and grabbed my clothes for a shower. As I was closing my draw I looked up and my eyes met the Crucifix. I stood in front of Jesus Christ completely still in my body and I looked at His Broken Body and then I felt my own brokenness and I felt nothing. There was nothing there. No emotion When I looked at the Crucifix. I then looked to my reflection in the mirror. Nothing. I felt nothing and I was okay with that. 

I went in for a shower and then got dressed. I walked to the side of my bed and looked at the made bed, knowing that my husband should be in that bed, but understanding that that night – he was in the bed of another woman. I knelt down by the side of my bed and only got halfway down and then I stood back up and got into bed. I did not want to talk to God that night and it would be many weeks until I would speak to Him again.

(my husband and I discussed this part of the blog and the publishing of it. ”It is part of your journey, you need to write it.”,Was his response.)

… to be continued

Communism in the Roman Catholic Priesthood

“In the 1930s we put eleven hundred men into the priesthood in order to destroy the Church from within.” – Bella Dodd, Communist.

With today being the start of a months long reflection on the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Jesus being the First Priest, I would like to discuss the participating parties that had a high hand in the Corruption of the Roman Catholic Priesthood. I have been researching this subject for 10 years. My passion began when I was confronted several times by not only friends and colleagues – but also my family as to how can I be Roman Catholic with all the corruption in the Church. I needed an answer to their why, and so my research began to understand how did the Priesthood get to the point it was at in the late 90’s.

I was not looking to protect the predators, the ones who came into the Roman Catholic Priesthood with ill intensions from the beginning. I was looking to protect the good names of the Priests that are truly Holy men and took their Ordination as seriously as Jesus Christ did that afternoon as He walked to Calvary with His Cross.

I truly believe what my Patron Saint, Saint Teresa of Avila said; Christ has no body but yours, No hands, no feet on earth but yours, Yours are the eyes with which He looks Compassion on this world,

Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good, Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.

Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,

Yours are the eyes, you are his body.

Christ has no body now but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which he looks

compassion on this world.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”

…. If not me, then who? Then who is going to defend our Ladies Priesthood because the Roman Catholic Priesthood belongs to Our Blessed Mother Mary and She works so adamantly, all of the time to protect the Priesthood as Her Son was the First Priest. Why would She not to do this? And so my heart was set ablaze to protect Her and Her Priests.

And with each passing year, each new conversation, each question that somebody would have for me, each time that I would get a dirty look for defending the Roman Catholic Priesthood – this drove me even more to defend the good Holy Priests that serve Our Savior.

The reality is, is that there was a lot of corruption in the Priesthood – but it also did not seem right – that there was something else behind this and so calling on the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit already knowing what was in my soul, I began to research – to find out the best that I could -what happened? How did this begin and when did it become this bad?

In the world, we have over 4,300 different religions. A staggering number. When we look back into the history of the Church, which Church do we see is at the beginning of the timeline? We look back to to the Cenacle. The first Church to exist was the Roman Catholic Church, which was initiated by Our Lord Himself.

When we look at all Christian religions, we see that in the news, we traditionally hear more about the Roman Catholic Church, compared to Protestant, Methodist, Jehovah, Baptist etc. This got me to thinking – why? Why is it you only hear about the Roman Catholic Church and you rarely hear about any other religions – even though there are stories of sexual molestation in so many different religions. And with an insight from Our Blessed Mother Mary, with spiritual guidance from the Holy Spirit, I began to see – my intellect was enlightened. I was made to understand through Our Lady – because it is the Holy Roman Catholic Church that loves Our Blessed Mother Mary more than any other religion and Satan hated Her first – Satan hated Her first because She gave Her Fiat to God.

We need to all stop and think about this and internalize this – especially people who are not Roman Catholic and they don’t believe in giving Our Blessed Mother Mary all of the love that She deserves – the Love that Jesus wants us to give to Her. Some people say that She’s just a mother, she’s just a woman who gave birth to Jesus? She’s not just a mother.

She is The Mother.

When we take the Holy Eucharist – we need to remember Our Lady, because our Blessed Mother gave Her Fiat to carry Jesus and so we need to think about all of these things. We need to put this all into a bigger picture and not just look at the Priests that have done the corruption, we need to see that Satan infiltrated the entire Roman Catholic Church. Why not the Protestant churches, why not the Methodist churches? Have you ever seen a statue of the Blessed Mother Mary in any of those churches? Are those churches being attacked by the devil as much as the Roman Catholic Church has been? No. Think about it, contemplate on this. Because there are stories of sexual abuse that are absolutely horrific in the Protestant churches, and the Methodist churches, in the Jehovah witnesses, Baptists. Do research and find out these stories- but why is it – that the Roman Catholic Church is in neon lights with corruption?

Since the early 80’s, news began to circulate about sexual abuse in the Roman Catholic Church and by the 90’s cases began to receive significant attention. In the early 2000’s, the Boston Globe began an investigation into the sexual abuse cases. From 2001 to 2010, the Holy See examined abuse cases involving 3,000 Priests, some of which dated back fifty years.

When the timeline is looked at, we now need to discuss Communism and when Communism was at its peak in the United States of America. The first person I would like to speak about is Bella Dodd.

Bella Dodd who served as legal counsel to the Communist Party in the United States in the 1950’s, years before Vatican II stated that: “Right now they are in the highest places. In the 1930s we put eleven hundred men into the priesthood in order to destroy the Church from within.”

The communist party in the United States of America was working to bring about change in order to weaken the Church’s effectiveness against Communism.” Bella Dodd said that these changes would be so drastic that “you will not recognise the Catholic Church.”

Bella Dodd gave testimony on the Communist Infiltration of Church and state before the House UnAmerican Activities Committee in the 1950s. In a lecture at Fordham University Bella Dodd unveiled what would seem to be a prophecy of future chaos in the Church. The lecture was attended by a monk whose account of the talk is presented in Christian Order:

“I listened to that woman for four hours and she had my hair standing on end. Everything she said has been fulfilled to the letter. You would think she was the world’s greatest prophet, but she was no prophet. She was merely exposing the step-by-step battle plan of Communist subversion of the Catholic Church. She explained that of all the world’s religions, the Catholic Church was the only one feared by the Communists, for it was its only effective opponent. The whole idea was to destroy, not the institution of the Church, but rather the Faith of the people, and even use the institution of the Church, if possible, to destroy the Faith through the promotion of a pseudo-religion: something that resembled Catholicism but was not the real thing. Once the Faith was destroyed, she explained that there would be a guilt complex introduced into the Church…. to label the ‘Church of the past’ as being oppressive, authoritarian, full of prejudices, arrogant in claiming to be the sole possessor of truth, and responsible for the divisions of religious bodies throughout the centuries. This would be necessary in order to shame Church leaders into an ‘openness to the world,’ and to a more flexible attitude toward all religions and philosophies. The Communists would then exploit this openness in order to undermine the Church.

I will continue to write on this matter weekly. With every new generation, stories like this go under the rug and we don’t hear about them and we need to. We must protect the future of the Most Holy Roman Catholic Church, because it began by God, who so loved this world that He gave us His only begotten Son- but it was not just God, it was Our Blessed Mother Mary who gave Her only Son and so I will continue to protect Our Blessed Mother Mary’s Priesthood and to uncover the scandalous truths that still to this day taint the Church even though so much has changed. The Devil will never stop with the Roman Catholic Church as it is the Church that Our Lord founded, our Lord and Savior who the devil absolutely hates and despises, but above Jesus – the devil despises Our Blessed Mother even more.

The Communist Infiltration of the Roman Catholic Church

The Communist Infiltration of the Roman Catholic Church

There is a third reason why Our Lord’s Revelations to Carmelite Sister Saint- Pierre seem to have a special application to our time. In 1847, Our Lord mentioned by name the Communists as “the enemies of the Church and of her Christ.” He also said that He would punish the world not through the elements, but rather through “the malice of revolutionary men.”

Over a hundred years later, we now live in a period when the malicious actions of these “revolutionary men” have a direct influence on the disfigurement of the Catholic religion, which is represented in the tortured Face of Christ.

Dr. Bella V. Dodd was a high-ranking Communist in the United States. She was Attorney General Designate of the Communist Party. Eventually, she returned to the Catholic Faith she had abandoned earlier in life. In the 1950s, however, after her conversion, she delivered numerous lectures about the successful Communist infiltration of religious institutions, and of the Catholic Church in particular.

She explained that in the 1930s and 40s, orders came from Communist headquarters to send radicals into the seminaries to subvert the Church from within. Communist agents started doing this all over the Western world. Bella Dodd said that she personally recruited over 1,000 young radicals to enter Catholic seminaries. And she was only one Communist.

Another ex-Communist, Mr. Manning Johnson, gave similar testimony. In 1953, to the House Un-American Activities Committee, he said:

“Once the tactic of infiltration of religious organizations was set by the Kremlin … The Communists discovered that the destruction of religion could proceed much faster through the infiltration of the Church by Communists operating within the Church itself.”

He then stated, “This policy of infiltrating seminaries was successful beyond even our Communist expectations.”

It is probably no coincidence that at the same time Mr. Johnson gave this testimony, the French Dominicans had become so Communistic in their orientation that in 1953, the Order barely escaped dissolution by command of Pope Pius XII.

Speaking of the infiltration of religious institutions in general, Manning Johnson explained: “… the major plot to take over religious organizations was really hatched during that particular period [1935], and the fact that the Communists in headlines in the Daily Worker can boast of 2,300 Protestant Ministers supporting them is the result of this plot that began in the thirties when I was a member of the Communist party.”

More testimony from Bella Dodd came from an eyewitness, an acquaintance of mine, now deceased, who actually heard Bella Dodd speak in the early 1950s.

Bella Dodd said that the Communists, at that point (1950s), had their men in the highest places in the Catholic Church. These men were working to bring about change so that the Church would no longer be effective against Communism. In the early 1950s, describing the changes that would take place in the future, Bella Dodd predicted “in 10 or 15 years, you will not recognize the Catholic Church.”

She explained that the tactic was to destroy not the institution of the Church, but rather the Faith of the people, and even to use the institution of the Church, if possible, to destroy the Faith through the promotion of a pseudo religion – something that resembles Catholicism, but is not quite the real thing.

Mrs. Dodd also claimed that the Communists were a driving force for the United Nations, and that the Communists owned the World Council of Churches “lock, stock and barrel.” This is especially noteworthy, since the World Council of Churches was a pioneer in “dialogue” and ecumenism. The WCC boasts that it is “the most nearly comprehensive instrument in the ecumenical movement in the world today.”

The time span indicated by Bella Dodd for the violent upheaval in the Church (“10 or 15 years” from the early 1950s) coincides precisely with the Vatican-Moscow Agreement.

On the eve of Vatican II, our Church leaders promised that they would not condemn Communism, in exchange for Russian Orthodox observers to attend the Council.

This Agreement also forms the basis for the Church’s Ostpolitik with Communist China and is also part of the new Vatican II approach of alleged “openness to the world,” rather than that of boldly confronting grave evils.

The result is what Bella Dodd predicted. The Catholic Church is no longer effective, or not nearly as effective, against Communism and other anti- Christ programs.

Bella Dodd’s prediction also coincides with the violent wave that hit the Church in the 1960s, due to the progressivism and ecumenism of the Second Vatican Council, which continues to disfigure our religion to this hour.

For these and other reasons, I think we may consider Our Lord’s revelations on Reparation to the Holy Face as a veiled prophecy of the present crisis of Faith. And practicing this devotion, I believe, is a special means of making reparation to Our Lord for the outrages He suffers in our time. It might, perhaps, even give us special graces to be faithful unto death to the traditional teaching and practice in the Church during this period of – in the words of Fatima’s Sister Lucy – “diabolic disorientation” of the upper hierarchy.

And even if this devotion does not give us these graces automatically, we can certainly ask for them in our prayers to the Holy Face. Our Lord has given us great hope in one of the Nine Promises:

“Nothing that you ask in making this offering [of His Holy Face] will be refused to you.”

To cap off this section on the present crisis in the Church, there is one last quotation from Our Lord of special relevance.

On February 13, 1848, in one of the final messages given to Sister Saint-Pierre, Our Lord made the urgent plea:

“The Church is threatened by a fearful tempest, pray, pray!”

The writers at the time interpreted this as a prediction of the suffering the Church underwent during the 19th Century revolutions in France and Italy. But in light of the above considerations, this prediction seems to apply even more to the ongoing crisis of Faith since the Second Vatican Council. Because indeed, the Church is now going through a “fearful tempest.” Even Pope Paul VI had to admit in 1972 that “the smoke of satan has entered the Church of God.”

Tragically, everything in the Church has become even more disfigured since Paul VI uttered these terrifying words.

From the book: The Revelations Of The Holy Face Of Jesus by John Vennari

A 12 year old Atheist

I walked into my dad’s bedroom to grab something and laying on top of his dresser was the divorce papers.  I remember looking at the paper and seeing that the divorce was final. In a way, I cannot say that I was too sad. 

The fights, the late night arguments were over.

During this time, between the ages of 12 and 13, I found some new friends in my school, people that I had already known, but a little bit of a different crowd. Hanging out and talking, I remember during one of those conversations, one of my friends asked me how everything was going and I told her about my parents divorce being finalized. She said that she was sorry and some of my other friends that were there said the same. I told them that it was fine and that I know that God had a plan. Why I said that at that age, after the way that I was feeling, I do not know, but I do know that in each one of us, whether we know it or not, whether we believe it or not, God is there and there are some things that you cannot shake, no matter how hard that you try.

It was at that defining moment that I did not realize what would happen within that conversation. My friends began to ask me that if there was a God, where was He with so many bad things happening in the world, where was He when I had asked the arguing to stop with my parents?

I remember going home that night and thinking about those questions and then thinking about my childhood. Was He really there for me?

It was that night, in my little, unknowledgeable and simple way that I said, “Well God, if you don’t love me, how can I love you? My friends are right, you can’t exist. Look at these wars in the world, look at my life. How can you be real?”

During that time, I never knew God in the close personal way that I do today. What I knew of Him was that He existed and I knew that He was the creator of the world.

I was Baptized as a Roman Catholic when I was only a few months old. My family was never active in the Church. There was only a handful of times when we would go to Church and it was only Mom and us when we would go to visit Nana.

We never spoke of Jesus in our home but I would always see a picture of Jesus hanging up. My mother always had one above her bed. I would go to my mom’s bed just to sit and to look into the eyes of Jesus. Somethings so comforting to me and something that I still do today.

When my peers said, “how can God be real, he’s not real to us, where is he?” I remember feeling very indifferent to what it is that they were saying because when I looked into the eyes of Jesus Christ, in that photo hanging above moms bed, I knew what I felt was real. Being such a tender age and being at the age that I was changing in so many different ways and dealing with some other heavy issues in my life during that time, I see were Satan was trying to trap me. Because if he can get you when you’re young, that’s where he can try and take hold of you. All that he needs is that little doubt.

But don’t we all have that?

How many of us have doubted the truth of Gods existence when things in our life went down? Everyone may not have come out and said that they were an Atheist, but some of us have. Some of our crosses were that heavy – that to even think that God could be around and not help, was nonsensical.

At the age of 15 years old, God would have it that I would walk to the front Alter of a Roman Catholic Church, one stormy afternoon. A future blog to come about the journey to Truth.

How did I come back from this? I came back from this through the Blessed Mother Mary. I will write about that at another time, in another blog. But during that time of me being a self-proclaimed Atheist, Jesus had His Eyes on me.

I never picked up a book or ever studied Atheism but in my heart I was sad to know that God left me. Even during that time, I would still always go to stare at that picture hanging above moms bed.

While I knew of the Blessed Mother Mary, I thought she was just a woman that was someone who gave birth to a little boy and that little boy was really important and that’s all that I knew of our Blessed Mother at that time.

I went to Confession when I was in my 20s and I remember my Confession to the Priest about me being an Atheist for several years. What I learned is this is when most people fall in life, they fall in their teenage years because this is where they are most susceptible. And this is where the beautiful innocence of children can be had.

Almost always, the influence is done by our peers. In many other cases, it is because of a violation by an adult. I had my peers on one side talking in my ear and on the other side – an abusive home.

I have been wanting to write about this for so many years and as of late, God has been working on my heart about this.

When I found myself having a hard time writing about this, I went into prayer. I asked God, “why am I having a hard time writing about this? “God told my heart, “because you lack humility. ”

I was very taken aback by Gods Response. When I spent time in prayer with Him, in front of the Blessed Sacrament, what I discovered was this about myself, is that because I live, in a way, a public ministry life that spreads the word of Jesus Christ, Blessed Mother Mary, the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church – how would people look at me if I did come out and say that for several years as a child, I was an Atheist?

My husband knew, my children knew about this, I was honest with them because I wanted to let them know, that listen, when you’re in school, don’t be surprised if things start to happen – if you start to feel a certain way about God, come to mom and dad, but always, go to Jesus Christ – into a dialogue with Him so you can keep your mind and your heart set and straight in His Truths.

I sat down, opened my laptop and here is the end result.

If it is somebody who is struggling and thinking, how can I go back to God when I denied Him? Am I even worthy anymore? I was there before and I know how that feels and I can only tell you this, go to Confession, go in front of the Blessed Sacrament.

Know that you’ve been forgiven and live in Him today.

Everything in life is a stepping stone to bring us closer to Jesus.

Sister Saint-Pierre

For our final considerations, we will discuss how Sister Saint-Pierre served as a precursor and foundation to Our Lady’s visitations at Fatima. For the sake of brevity, we limit our focus to three points.

First: Our Lord [to Sister Saint-Pierre] and Our Lady of Fatima both warned of the need for prayer and penance for the salvation of souls.

Our Lord showed Sister Saint-Pierre “the multitude of souls falling into Hell “and told her to “pray -fervently” for their conversion. He gave her the Golden Arrow prayer, pledging it as a “torrent of grace” for sinners.

Likewise, Our Lady of Fatima showed the children the vision of Hell. Likewise, Our Lady of Fatima showed the children the vision of Hell. She then said: “You have seen Hell where the souls of poor sinners go. To save them, God wishes to establish in the world devotion to My Immaculate Heart.”

From the book: Revelations Of The Holy Face Of Jesus by John Vennari

Smoke Of Satan

Bella Dodd’s prediction also coincides with the violent wave that hit the Church in the 1960s, due to the progressivism and ecumenism of the Second Vatican Council, which continues to disfigure our religion to this hour. For these and other reasons, I think we may consider Our Lord’s revelations on Reparation to the Holy Face as a veiled prophecy of the present crisis of Faith. And practicing this devotion, I believe, is a special means of making reparation to Our Lord for the outrages He suffers in our time. It might, perhaps, even give us special graces to be faithful unto death to the traditional teaching and practice in the Church during this period of – in the words of Fatima’s Sister Lucy – “diabolic disorientation” of the upper hierarchy. And even if this devotion does not give us these graces automatically, we can certainly ask for them in our prayers to the Holy Face. Our Lord has given us great hope in one of the Nine Promises:

“Nothing that you ask in making this offering [of His Holy Face] will be refused to you.”

To cap off this section on the present crisis in the Church, there is one last quotation from Our Lord of special relevance.

On February 13, 1848, in one of the final messages given to Sister Saint-Pierre, Our Lord made the urgent plea: “The Church is threatened by a fearful tempest, pray, pray!”

The writers at the time interpreted this as a prediction of the suffering the Church underwent during the 19th Century revolutions in France and Italy. But in light of the above considerations, this prediction seems to apply even more to the ongoing crisis of Faith since the Second Vatican Council. Because indeed, the Church is now going through a “fearful tempest.”

Even Pope Paul VI had to admit in 1972 that “the smoke of satan has entered the Church of God.”

Tragically, everything in the Church has become even more disfigured since Paul VI uttered these terrifying words.

From the book: The Revelations Of The Holy Face Of Jesus

Many Remain Fixed in Misleading, Historically Conditioned Interpretations of Our Lady’s Words

Many Remain Fixed in Misleading, Historically Conditioned Interpretations of Our Lady’s Words

Interpreting the Message in this fashion has led to the tendentious and dogmatized belief that the matters dealt with in the Message and most specifically what is dealt with in the July 13 Secret are matters that, as Cardinal Sodano maintained, “seem to pertain to the past.“ One wonders if he was gazing into a crystal ball when the thought struck him, since such a blunt statement at that would require definite knowledge of future events, yet Cardinal Sodano has never claimed any special prophetic gift. This sort of arbitrary and overly simplistic understanding of the terms and the false conclusion they led to, might have been justified if the errors of Marxist- Leninist Russia had somehow risen from a pipe directly from the pit of Hell straight up into the Bolshevist headquarters in Moscow, only to be brought to an abrupt end with the implosion of the Soviet Union in 1991.

But the Soviet. It did not come into being and subsequently end in such a simple manner.

The Fatima Crusader

Summer 2011

Our Lady Spoke Of “Russia’s Errors” Not Just One Error

Our Lady Spoke Of “Russia’s Errors” Not Just One Error

On Friday, July 13, 1917, Our Lady Fatima revealed that if Her requests are fufilled then Russia will be converted and there will be peace. On the other hand, if Her requests are not fulfilled, then there will be war, famine and persecution of the Church – there will be martyrdom, persecution of the Pope and the annihilation of nations. It is especially important that the words spoken by Our Lady be understood in a manner that is not circumscribed according to a historically restricted frame of mind that existed during the Soviet period of the Twentieth Century. Our Lady never spoke of `atheistic Communism’ or the `Soviet Union’; yet since during the Soviet period and especially during the Cold War the expression ‘errors of Russia’ was narrowly interpreted to mean ‘atheistic Communism’ and `Russia’ was interpreted as strictly denoting do union of Soviet Socialist Republics, these historically conditioned interpretations continue to stubbornly remain fixed in the minds of many who have attempted to understand what Our Lady meant by the term ‘errors of Russia’.

The Fatima Crusader

Issue 99


Useful Reflections On Why God Wants Specifically Russia Consecrated

Useful Reflections On Why God Wants Specifically Russia Consecrated

Before we examine the question of whether or not the Consecration of Russia has been validly performed in the manner specifically requested by Our Lady, and pointing out the fallacies in the arguments of those who contend that it has been performed, it will be useful to examine why it is that Our Lady requests specifically the Consecration of Russia and not the whole world or some other nation that on the surface and from a spatially and temporarily circumscribed perspective may appear to be more in need of such a consecration.

From the moral perspective this question can really only be examined speculatively, since it would be presumptuous and hypocritical for anyone to require God and Our Lady to justify and explain, as a basis and prerequisite for obedience, why They are making this specific request. Such behavior would be analogous to that of a child who would refuse to obey the command of a parent unless the parent would provide a satisfactory explanation to the child why it is being so commanded.

That would be an attitude of rebellion, insubordination and disobedience. Just as parents usually respond to such insubordinate demands of their children for explanations to the question “Why? “By saying: “Because I said so! “, so likewise God, whose authority is infinitely more offended by such rebellious insubordination, has declined to provide any more information than is needed for the pastors of the Church to reasonably obey and carry out the requested Consecration of Russia with a sufficiently informed conscience. Nevertheless, it is useful for our understanding to examine the question.

Fatima Crusader

Summer 2011

Issue 99