I have loved Mother Mary my whole life. As a little girl, she watched over me from the top of my beloved grandmother’s wardrobe. In the form of a large statue of a woman swathed in white and blue robes, she gazed down in silent blessing. I adored my grandmother (also named Mary) and often watched her as she silently said her rosary in devotion to Mother Mary, every day. As she mouthed the words of the prayers under her breath, her graceful hands swiftly marked her place as the rosary beads slipped through her fingers.
Although I am not particularly monogamous when it comes to aspects of the divine – in fact you could call me an absolute unmitigated flirt because I love and pray to beings from many different traditions including Sufism, Tibetan Buddhism, Christianity, Paganism and Hinduism – I find that certain beings regularly make an appearance in my life. Even if I am uttering a general prayer to the Universe, certain faces of the divine respond and one of those is Mother Mary.
Once, more than ten years ago now, I was in a dark and questioning place in my professional life. I had submitted my first book proposal to a publishing house that I thought would be perfect! I hadn’t heard of Blue Angel then, nor did I have any clue how my working life would unfold, but I knew I could help people through writing. So I wrote a book, Heart-Centred Living, which is available on my website as an e-book with a guided companion meditation. I had some great feedback from people about the book, so I went ahead and submitted the proposal. When I received a rejection letter that had misspelled my name, got the date wrong (by several years, if memory serves correctly) and it didn’t even appear as though the publisher had bothered to read my cover letter let alone the sample chapters attached, I was absolutely devastated! Being quite a passionate person, I do tend to feel things rather intensely, so although that might seem a little over-the-top, it was absolutely how I felt. Despairingly, I prayed to the Universe for a sign. I truly felt that I was supposed to write and help people through that, but how could I do it if I didn’t even get a chance from a publisher?
I decided to go for a walk. I meandered down the slightly grotty streets of the inner city suburb that I lived in at that time. After only a few blocks of my walk, I noticed a small gleaming object on the ground, a few feet ahead of me. I slowed down my walk, looking attentively at this object as it started to come into clearer view, feeling a strange excitement and hopefulness welling up inside me.
Being an inner city Sydney street, my logical mind imagined that this gleaming treasure would most likely be a bit of rubbish like the twist-top cap of a beer bottle. Despite this, my body was reacting as though it was something much more precious being offered to me. I reached the glinting object, kneeling down to pick it up and saw that it was a small silver medallion with the image of Mother Mary on it, wrapped in a green and purple ribbon around a piece of white paper with blue text. My heart filled with a mixture of joy and incredulity. It felt like my own personal visitation with Mary had occurred in downtown Marrickville, perhaps not as historically glamorous as France during the revolution, when St Catherine received her first visitation with the Holy Mother, but at least not as bloodied.
Transfixed, I stood in the middle of the footpath with traffic blaring around me, fumes everywhere and slowly unravelled the paper scroll to read the text. The first words that I saw were these “God has a special task for thee”. I felt a surge of emotion in my heart – gratitude, relief, wonder and intense love. These words spoke directly to my heart. I felt affirmation that my spiritual direction was going to manifest somehow and not to be disheartened. I felt that my prayers had been heard and things were going to be alright, somehow.
I continued reading the unrolled pamphlet which chronicled the story around the medal tied to it. It explained that the medal was a part of the manifestation of St Catherine’s divine life mission, that she carried out in service to the Divine Mother. This felt like a clear answer to my own prayers about my life mission. It would happen, it was meant to be, just as I was meant to be. I would be guided about what to do, and when. It would happen according to Her wisdom and will.
This experience helped to revive my belief that there was a space for me and for my voice in the world, and that it would be of service to others’ wellbeing, and my own, but that I had to trust in the Universe as to the “how”, “who” and “when” of it all.