Dear Father Chad King,

Some time ago, it was actually Mercy Sunday, I went to Confession with you and shared my Lenten journey. You recognized the work of God in my life and asked if I would be willing to share my story. (I thought who or what group at Corpus Christi would I be talking to?) But you said, “Could you write two pages that I could have in our bulletin? I believe many people would benefit from hearing your story.”

Because I knew it was God working in my life, I agreed. We never discussed a timeline, but I had no idea that it would take this long to get the job done!

I realize now why I was not able to write this letter sooner. You are asking me to reveal a family secret. Even though you had told me that I could be anonymous, somehow, I couldn’t trust that the “secret” be known.

Now, through the grace of God. I can let the Light shine on the darkness:
My Lenten Journey began with the question to myself, “Why am I afraid to surrender all of me to Jesus? What is blocking me or holding me back from trusting Jesus, my Savior?”

A better realization came through divine intervention, through prayer. How or when did I become so selfish? I was raised in a large Catholic family. Sharing had been mandatory. It had not been an option not to share. Be- ing raised as a middle child in a large family, I was “starving” for love and affection. (I didn’t know it then — I was just a kid.)

My devout Catholic mom loved us with food, especially baked goods, so that when we arrived home from Catholic school (a sacrifice my parents made for us because money was always tight, but somehow, through the grace of God, we always had enough) there was often the wonderful aroma of baked bread, cinnamon rolls, apple pies, etc.

I now realize that my mom not only “loved’ us with food, but “consoled” us with food. I now see that my mom was attempting to shelter us from our father, who was a rage-a-holic. Dad didn’t drink, in fact, he didn’t touch the stuff, but he had two unlces that were “hopelessly” addicted to alcohol. (Jesus is bigger than any disease or addiction, but we have to give it to God.)

I see now how my own addiction to food developed, but my eating disorder of bulimia remained hidden in the dark for 20 years. It began at age 16 and I was healed at age 36 when I received the Baptism in the Holy Spirit, for which I am forever grateful.

Although Jesus healed me, only a few people knew I had been bulimic. It was to disgusting for me to divulge. Even my own mother didn’t know. Afterall, bulimia didn’t fit into the Catholic church-going family. I was to learn later that I was not the only one in our family that had a secret. I learned that one of my brothers had sexually molested one of my sisters. I was outraged — how could he have done such a terrible thing?

But I was told this in secret. Not everyone in my family knows. Do they need to know? How can healing occur if we keep things hidden in the dark?

As I prayed the Divine Mercy through Lent — I prayed for my brother and I prayed for myself. “For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.”

My brother and I are forgiven — by the grace of God, we don’t have to be perfect — we have to be open to receive God’s grace, to be real, to be healed.

Amen.

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