Proclaiming God's greatness through one holy man and a series of mountaintop experiences

I did not intend to go to St. Edward Catholic Church.

I was just going to walk a few blocks to Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows and attend mass without connecting with full emotions. I've had too much of that lately. My body was tired with chemo this week and playing Santa yesterday.

But God would not let me sleep, though I prayed for it. So I was drawn to 8 a.m. Mass this morning at St. Edward in south Nashville. And I asked the greatest man I've ever known if I could have a minute to say something to the congregation.

Now as you my good and very few readers have known the past week, I've not been the most inspirational person. I've been really down and it has scared some people. I apologize for that. I've thought I had the answer, like returning to my home where I grew up and my parents are buried. But I've been proven wrong at least for the moment. Again.

This truth I do know for sure: God again has chosen to rescue me in my brokenness though I certainly do NOT deserve it. And then the miracle happened, Friday night at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church just a few blocks away from St. Edward. It just proved to me the power of hope.

So I went to St. Edward today to spread the Good News, give glory to God and testify to the greatness in the person named Father Joseph Patrick Breen.

But I set up my presentation in reminding the congregation of the goodness in suffering, which we all endure in some way, or know friends and loved ones who do.

I got leukemia at 47 years of age this week. I almost died two years ago over 12 days in Vanderbilt Medical Center. I'm now 50 and still on chemo.

I lost my job -- my passion of 14 years. It was simply taken away from me by people who did not know me nor the good people such as you that it was such a joy to serve by writing about your heroics in your families, in your communities and serving your country in the military, hospitals and non-profits.

My cat of 18 years -- who sensed every down moment in my life and sat on my lap purring and giving nuclear nosies -- died in my arms.

My mother decided to break my heart and go to heaven in June.

And I had to leave home by choice and file for divorce from an emotionally abusive marriage.

But I told the congregation not to feel sorry for me, not one bit. Suffering in God and toward His will is glorious. And I feel like Dr. King -- the greatest American of all time -- when he told a packed church the night before his assassination that he was fearing no man, that his soul was full and that he had been to the mountaintop and seen the promised land.

That is me, but with no merit of being in even the same post with the great Dr. King.

And then I told the congregation of El Milagro de Nashville, The Miracle of Nashville, and how Father Breen produced a check for $221,000 on the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe before thousands of believers. And he gave the check to Bishop Choby and proclaimed Our Lady's to be free, liberated from debt and now dedicated to the mission of lifting up the people Our Lady appeared to north of Mexico City almost 500 years ago.

I ended by telling the congregation that I would follow Father Breen to the gates of Hell in his defense, but there would be no need. For this holy man has secured his place in heaven with this miracle and so many others. And he does have another prepared, and I hope to be involved with it with my full heart and beliefs.

Ultimately, I told the congregation, I have always found God in following in the shadow of Father Breen. How blessed I have been.

I love him, I will defend him and I will praise his name in giving glory to God he and I love forever and ever. Amen.