Lourdes Pilgrimage - Day 3
Push Me, Pull Me
Even though we’ve been away for three days, today was our first official day of activities. And boy, what a day. After an early breakfast, we were to meet our team of helpers outside the hotel. They put each malade (what they call the sick visitors) in a blue cart, which you see everywhere around the sanctuary.
A team of three people push/pull each malade (which is a bit of overkill in Amelia’s case, even with Rapunzel in the cart).
We immediately went to the Rosary Basilica for our opening mass. Kirrily’s review: “It was intense.”
And it was! Fifteen priests, a full choir, organ, and a church that looked like this—
The priest’s homily was about the nature of suffering, and the mystery of why we must go through it. It was very moving, and I’m sure a comfort to all the malades and caregivers.
After lunch with our team, we went to the famous Lourdes baths, which have been the site of 70 confirmed miraculous healings. (These are more than just claims of miraculous cures, of which there are thousands. There’s a whole process to confirm a cure did not come from natural causes.)
Back before COVID, people would disrobe and immerse themselves entirely in the Lourdes water. Now, we simply wash our hands and face, and then drink a little. (Which is what Mary instructed St. Bernadette to do, anyway.)
Amelia, Kirrily, and I all did this. Although there was no miraculous healing (yet), it was a special family moment.
From there, we went to another church for a service for washing the feet of the malades. Amelia is super sensitive to the cold, but handled it pretty well.
Lastly, we had the opportunity to pass through the grotto where St. Bernadette saw the Marian apparitions, as well as the spring she dug, on Mary’s instructions.
People come from all over the world to visit Lourdes, so you can usually hear prayers and masses in all sorts of languages throughout the day. While we were there, a group was saying the Rosary in Spanish, which I half-remembered from Catholic school
The team that took us around—a priest, a doctor, and a Dame of Malta—had all visited on pilgrimages before. They were wonderful guides, answering all of our questions and looking after Amelia’s needs.
We’ve only just begun, and can’t wait to see what’s in store tomorrow.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen.
O Most Holy Mother of my Jesus, you who saw and felt the extreme desolation of your dear Son, help us in our own time of desolation.
And you saints of Heaven who have passed through this trial, have pity on those who are suffering it now and pray that we be given the grace to be faithful until death.
And in a particular way, dear St. Bernadette, we ask for your intercession for the intentions on our heart, that Amelia be cured of her metachromatic leukodystrophy.
St. Bernadette, you had such a love for the Eucharist. You prepared so hard to make your first Communion even though your catechism class was difficult for you. You said, “The Eucharist bathes the tormented soul in light and love. Then the soul appreciates these words, ‘Come all you who are sick, I will restore your health.’” Give us your heart for the Eucharist.
Jesus, grow in me, in my heart, in my spirit, in my imagination, and in my senses, by your modesty, your purity, your humility, your zeal, and your love. Grow with your grace, your light, your peace. Grow despite my resistance and my pride. Grow as you did at Nazareth before God and before men, for the glory of your Father.