<http://www.maristmessenger.co.nz/?p=426>The Day I Discovered I Had 
the Stigmata
http://www.maristmessenger.co.nz/?p=426
February 1st, 2009 filed under 
<http://www.maristmessenger.co.nz/?cat=2>Articles

by Bill Farrelly
In my childhood, there was a period in which the word stigmata 
aroused in a me a great fear. I tried to make myself invisible to God 
in the hope that whatever dispatches of that nature were being issued 
from on High would have no chance of finding me. When I absolutely 
needed God,and therefore had to be visible to Him, I would plead, as 
an aside,that He never bestow one of those ghastly packages upon me. 
I don't recall which I dreaded more: the embarrassment or the pain. 
Whatever, the chilling day never arrived.

Or so I thought. Recently, more than half a century after those 
primary school cowerings, it occurred to me that God had indeed 
visited the stigmata upon me many decades ago despite all evidence to 
the contrary. Many people, I have no doubt, have likewise been afflicted.

No, I do not bleed from hand, foot or side. Though I can recall the 
odd rusty nail going through my bare feet in the backyard where I 
grew up in Major Road, Merrylands, and the subsequent tears and 
tetanus shots, as well as many of the usual childhood misadventures 
that provoked even more angst, I was, I had assumed, spared that 
Heaven-sent torment to which nothing (save perhaps losing a limb or 
two) could compare.

The penny dropped, beautifully and sadly, some days ago as I wandered 
up to Mass struggling with my own torments but equally and 
importantly with those of others as well. I had, I suddenly realised, 
carried an invisible stigmata, almost all my life. Do not think I 
seek your acclaim. I share this musing merely as an example of how 
God amazes me, tricks me, confounds me, delights me..Dare I say hurts me?

What is this invisible stigmata's manifestation? Simply, it is that 
anguish for the suffering of others. Like most, I hurt deeply for my 
own pain and (though not always as much as I should) the pain I have 
inflicted on those I love, but I also hurt, sometimes unbearably, it 
seems, for the hurts of others, most of whom I have never met, will 
never meet. I weep and my heart aches for their physical, mental and 
emotional hurts, for their loneliness, despair, and emptiness. At 
times this sadness is crushing. At these blackest moments, I have to 
remind myself that while my empathy is God-given, I cannot linger 
indefinitely, nor surrender to despondency.

Paradoxically, perhaps, I am trying to lighten up, to laugh more, to 
observe more objectively, to try at times to be detached. I am taking 
this course because there have been times when I have been in danger 
of drowning in sadness. How, in such circumstances, could I cast a life buoy?

Decades ago, as I watched a young boy and his mother suffering, I 
asked God to ease their hurt and send me more: I merely had chronic 
back pain. Tinnitus, anyone? Funny how He seems to answer some 
prayers so promptly, isn't it? But I have been blessed time and 
again.These days I don't need to ask for more - it comes unbidden!

PS. Dear God, I still don't want the real stigmata, unless it would 
cure the arthritis. Just joking.

Bill Farrelly is a former journalist with the Sydney Morning Herald 
who admits he would have been a better journalist had he been more 
objective. But he would also have been less empathetic.

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Lord, may everything we do begin with Your inspiration and continue 
with Your help,
so that all our prayers and works may begin in You and by You be happily ended.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.



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+ "The fruit of abortion is nuclear war" - Bl. Mother Teresa +

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