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June 2005
Peace be with you…
I wish to extend this greeting/invitation to you as I begin what will be a monthly letter of reflection. It is presently 3:00 p.m., the Hour of Mercy, so I pray that my words will be guided by the Spirit. My name is Jennifer Abell. I am 26 years old and am a friend of both Willy and Theresa, the founders of the Divine Mercy Centre. Willy asked me if I would like to contribute to the new website. After prayerful reflection, I recognized that it was more than an invitation from Willy; God was also asking me to share my thoughts, feelings, insights about this wonderful journey of faith, with you the reader - my brother or sister in Christ. This, my first letter, will be a brief introduction to who I am, where I was before Christ and where I am now. I will conclude by outlining the vision of these monthly updates.
I will begin with the present and then reflect on the past. In May 2004, I graduated from St. Francis Xavier University in Nova Scotia. I hold a BA in Theology; this August, I will be pursuing a Master’s Degree in Theological Studies with a focus on Marriage and the Family. For the next few months I am enjoying time at home with my family, working part-time and being involved with Youth Ministry on the weekends. From this standpoint it may seem to you that all areas of my life are impacted by my faith – you would be correct in this assumption – they are. I want nothing more than to continue my growth in holiness (I still have a long way to go!!!) and to delve deeper into the mystery of Christ and the beauty of the Catholic Church. However, this was not always my desire and I still find myself shaking my head when I take time to reflect on how God has shaped and directed my life. Ten years ago, I would never have imagined that I would be heading off to pursue a Master’s in Theology; ten years ago I denied the very existence of God and all things related to Christianity.
My time in “hell on earth” began when I was 15. Despite my loving parents, brother and blessed life, I was unhappy, angry at the world and wanting to escape it all. Yes, I was like so many other cases - the rebellious teenager. However, I lived these intense emotions to an extreme and put my family through 4 years of worry and suffering. I was raised Catholic, yet looking back I recognize that my faith never took on a personal tone – it was something I did (go to Mass with Mom and Dad), not something I truly experienced in the depth of my heart. Thus, when I was 15 I decided that Mass was not “my thing” so I stopped attending. My parents realized that no amount of convincing was going to change my mind. They recognized that I had to make a choice on my own – a hard realization for a parent. However, my refusal to attend Mass soon turned into blatant attacks on my parents and their beliefs. I argued that faith was for the weak, for those who could not handle the “truth” of what I believed was a miserable and purposeless existence. I spoke in ignorance, but with deep conviction and biting words. My downward spiral had begun. I entered grade 9 and by the middle of that year I was hanging with like-minded people, experimenting with drugs, smoking and drinking. My parents struggled to understand what had happened to their happy, shy and talented child; they were at a crossroad, wondering how to deal with the person I had become. My life turned very dark: the way I looked, dressed, acted – it all gave way to an aura of evil. (From my present day perspective I truly believe and know that Satan was having his time with me at that point in my life.)
I continued to spiral downwards, my parents and brother became overwhelmed with pain and confusion, yet this did not affect me. I was hard-hearted and could think of nothing else other than my own issues and what I defined this life to be – nothing of importance. I dropped out of school at the end of grade ten. I became sexually active, was getting high on a daily basis, and chose to leave home at age 16.
I spent the next year and a half living what I thought was “the life”. No rules, no responsibility, no cares – so to speak. I survived, along with my 20 year old boyfriend, on welfare; most of the money was for rent, a marginal amount for groceries and the rest for drugs. I slept in the daytime and roamed the town at night. I was angry, self-destructive and lost. Looking back, I can see how the hand of God and my parent’s prayers kept me from venturing even further, to what I can now say would have been the point of no return.
A shift occurred at age 18. I realized that I needed to move back home. My relationship with my boyfriend at that time was – go figure - very unhealthy and I was unhappy. This was the first instance of me actually listening to the voice of my conscience (which, two years earlier I had told my mom did not exist). My parent’s welcomed me home with open arms – but I was still not happy. I did return to high school and graduated with top marks. Although I had convinced my mom otherwise, I was still getting high a few times a day. After graduating high school, I was not satisfied living at home, so I moved to Toronto with a friend. I continued my lifestyle of “no cares” while working in T.O. While there, I became less angry and, even though I was still unsure about life and its meaning, this was all God needed – a little crack into which He could shine His light and mercy. It was then that a phone call became the catalyst of a life changing event.
One night, I received a call from my mom. After a brief conversation she asked me if I would like to travel to Europe with her – ticket paid. I was excited, yet had no idea why she wanted to go to Europe at that point in time; I asked and very cautiously, without too much detail, my mom began to tell me about a place called Medjugorje. It was a small village, 30 minutes from Kosovo in the former Yugoslavia. It was a village in which 6 children, beginning in 1981, were having apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary. And since that time, the village has become a predominant pilgrimage site – a place where millions of lives have been changed. I listened, and by the grace of God, accepted her offer – as if I was going to refuse a free trip to Europe! Besides, I thought, when Mom was doing “her Church stuff”, I could do something else. Little did I know that the village was the Church and that I would end up spending up to 3 hours a day in Mass.
I went to Medjugorje in October of 1999 with ignorance of what was going to happen. Upon driving into the village, things felt different – I could feel a peace descend upon me, something I had not felt for a long time. The village was small with St. James Church at the centre of all activity. I was surrounded by people of faith and in nine days I became a new person in Christ.
One day at Mass, a light went on in my heart. Every word the priest spoke hit me as the truth – I was confused, but let it happen. I started to open myself more to this new feeling of peace and God continued to pour out His grace upon me. However, there was something that needed to occur for me to truly open myself; my mom, in her wisdom, knew what it was - I had to go to confession. She knew that I needed to cleanse my heart, mind and soul of all that had occurred in my life throughout the years. I resisted. It was a spiritual battle for a while, but God won me over. I lined up for confession one day; I was unsure of what to say and scared. As I stepped into the confessional and sat down, I began to cry before I even said anything. I talked with the priest and let go of all I had done in the last few years. As he absolved me, I could sense a darkness lifting off my heart and light entering – it was incredible! I felt physically lighter. From that day forward, I opened my heart to God. I told Him that I did not know what was happening, or who He was, but that I had to believe and this was all He needed. In nine days, I returned to Toronto, but I was changed; like St. Paul, it was as though the scales had fallen from my eyes. I had a heightened conscience and within a month I left my “old lifestyle” in Toronto and moved back home. My friends could not understand what had occurred, as much as I tried to share it with them; I also knew that their belief had to occur in God’s time. My life since then has been a continuous journey of growing closer to Jesus, to a God who, in His mercy, rescued me from the hell I was living and brought me into His truth and love. I know now that we are made for God and like Saint Augustine said, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Him”. My life is for Christ, and I am so very blessed to be where I am today.
My journey to faith was one of pain and struggle but I know that I am called to share it in order that others can know that with God all things are possible.
I am glad that I am able to share my journey with you and this is what I hope to do each month. Being that this was my introductory letter it is longer than what will follow on a month to month basis. I will pray to be directed in what I share, the topics will vary from things I may be experiencing in my own journey of faith to topics that I have and will continue to study for my degree. I would also be willing and glad to answer questions or comments to the best of my ability. I will set up an e-mail site for this purpose and will post the address with my next letter.
Until then, Jen
May God bless you
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