Really

I have been thinking of that – that terrible suffering – as I have been reflecting that I really REALLY want to be a Saint!

Life of Christ (Geelong Grammar School)

I have been thinking about the difference that I can make in the world.

Considering my personality, vocation and behaviour, it is highly improbable that I will be remembered for a very long time after I die.

If I am lucky my children will think of me for a while.  Perhaps their children may know me as well and think of me also.  My siblings who are likely to survive me (as they are younger than me) may think about me.  But, frankly, less than fifty years after my death I am likely to be forgotten by all people who live on this earth.  And just as I cannot remember the generation beyond that of my grandparents, it is unlikely that I shall be remembered.

Now, though I am often proud, this is no terrible thing for me.  After all, I have no expectation to do anything worthy in my lifetime to merit remembrance.  And that is no terrible thing.  As Saint Therese of Lisieux said so beautifully, there are all sorts of flowers in the garden of God.  Some souls are roses and lilies and others are only daisies.  And no soul should be too proud to take their place in that garden.  If God had wanted big things of me, He would have made me a rose.  But He did not.  He wanted little things of me, done well.  And for this I am a mere daisy in the garden of God.

And I have been reflecting on that.  Because despite this smallness of my capabilities, I really do want to be a Saint.

And this is not just for love of God – though I do love Him with my miserable little heart.  This is because if I am forgotten in fifty years or so. Who shall pray for my soul in Purgatory?  Who shall remember me?

When the three shepherd children of Faitma asked the Blessed Virgin if certain people among their acquaintances who had died were in Heaven, she replied that for one particular soul that they were in purgatory and would remain there until the end of time.  And that haunting image has not left me since I first heard of the conversation.  You see, that soul perhaps had nobody to pray for her.  And though it is sometimes overwhelming to suffer on Earth, I cannot bear imagining the terrible suffering of Purgatory.  After all, Purgatory is more terrible suffering than one could imagine.

Once a soul from Purgatory appeared to Saint Padre Pio asking for prayers.  The Saint promised to offer Mass the following day for the soul.  The soul replied with terrible sorrow accusing the Saint of being heartless to allow them to remain in Purgatory one more night when some prayers would free them of their pain.

And I have been thinking of that – that terrible suffering – as I have been reflecting that I really REALLY want to be a Saint!

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.