Santa Rita to the rescue

Dear friends! There is also another saint who has helped me a lot in my life, and to whom you can turn with confidence: Saint Rita of Cascia, who lived during the 14th century, in the midst of the Italian Renaissance. She is the patroness of cases without hope, the saint of impossible situations, the one who intercedes when she seems to have lost all hope.

Many years ago, I was faced with a sudden and difficult change in my life, and the world around me was turned upside down. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t accept the direction my life was suddenly forced to take and the emptiness that descended on me with all its cruel weight and force. First I broke down, and then, slowly getting used to being in pieces, I became numb to the world. Like an automaton I walked and did what I had to do, but joy no longer lived in my heart. I switched to survival mode, simplified my life to a minimum; at night he waited for the sun to rise, and during the day he waited for it to set. I desperately wanted my old life back, filled with the joy I was used to but obviously didn’t appreciate. Of course, at the time I was not aware of my ungrateful spirit; only later did I realize how ignorant I was of the good things that had been given to me, of the comfort of a sure heart, of a life without complications and without blemish. And then the bomb was dropped, and it exploded, and sharp splinters pierced the soft veil of my comfortable existence. The deeper I sank into darkness and tears, the more I knew that only a miracle would save me; human powers could no longer pull me out of the despair into which I spiraled. All day I was theorizing about what had happened to me; Hundreds of interpretations swirled through my head, my thoughts like brittle branches, stretching out in a million directions only to latch on to one terrifying conclusion: I was no longer loved. I was like a scavenger crawling across the sandy bottom of the sea, far from the light of the world, feeding on the remains left behind by other, happier creatures.

And then one night, in a rare hour of sleep, I had a dream. In this dream, I saw a shiny golden disc floating over my face, and in a language I don’t remember but could only understand telepathically, he told me: “Things are not what they seem”. Startled, I woke up immediately and knew that it was not an ordinary dream; This was a message from above. Someone in the divine realms realized that I had reached the point of despair, took pity on me, and decided to send me a ray of hope. It was little to hold on to, but I began to build my existence around this divine sign. Of course, I later learned that a divine sign is all we need to know that our future is about to change. As to when, that of course he did not know; Time is, as always, in the hands of God.

I would love to tell you that shortly after this dream my life changed, the misunderstandings cleared up, the stars aligned and everything returned to normal. But it was not the case; there was no sign of change at all. Of course my life went on, but no resolution came to my aching soul. And during these years of emptiness I realized that the miracle I needed had to come from above, so I turned to God. No one else would have understood me, and there was certainly no one who could perform the miracle I so longed for. My dream of the gold record was my invitation, and since I had no other choice, I opened up like a flower and soaked myself in everything God allowed me to see of Him. I studied it, talked to it, searched for it and buried myself in its love. However, there was still no change, and God remained silent.

Well into the second year after my dream, I spent the summer in Hungary, where every day I went to my favorite little church where there is, to this day, a small sanctuary dedicated to Saint Rita, the saint of impossible things; only the sacred to me, I thought. One day, when I was completely alone in the church praying to him, always for the same thing, never giving up, I suddenly felt a strong scent of roses surround me. He felt strange; I was alone and this divine smell, strong and deliciously pink, descended on me like a cloud, enveloping me in its soft folds, comforting me and bringing tears to my eyes. It lasted about a minute, and just as suddenly as it came, it was gone, leaving me alone in the musky church, pleasantly confused and filled with tears of hope. I didn’t know what it was then, but I sensed that it must be a sign, a divine pact, a propitious herald that my life would soon change. I felt that Santa Rita had heard me and her intercession, after so long, finally won God’s favor.

Once again, I would love to tell you that shortly after this rose-scented minute, the pieces of my life suddenly fell into their proper and most auspicious places. However, for long months there was still no change, and God remained silent. I returned home and continued to pray to Santa Rita to make sure he would keep me on his side and continue to intercede for me.

By the third year after my dream, I learned a lot about God and his divine systems. I researched Him day and night, and the more I knew about Him and the more effectively I prayed, the stronger my faith grew. My life was solid and happy again; I rebuilt myself into a weaker version from earlier times, but it was a habitable version nonetheless.

In my third year of faithfully praying for the same thing, when my faith grew stronger and my life was much more solid and happy, suddenly, in the most ordinary of moments, my wish came true. When I least expected it, God granted my wish and wrapped it in circumstances so favorable that they exceeded all my expectations. My wish came true and solutions were presented to me that I could never imagine. After testing me for so long, God decided to come out of the clouds and show me his divine face.

This was many years ago, and since then I have learned a lot. I have learned that He waited for my faith to grow stronger before granting my wish. He wanted him to feel the impact of his love and generosity to ensure that he became the guiding light of my life, the axis of my existence and my work. He made sure that my experience became life changing for me, so that through it I could change the lives of others. He expected from me perseverance in faith and unconditional love, growth in spirit and understanding of human conditions. And when He felt that I was transformed into a loving receptacle of His will and ready to receive and see His divine face, He gave and gave generously, perfectly, more than I expected, and perhaps more than I was willing to handle. I also learned that the gold record in my dream was the Holy Spirit descending on me with the divine message from him.

Years after my pink and perfumed minute in that little Hungarian church, I also learned that Saint Rita on her deathbed in the Casia convent asked for a rose and a fig to be brought to her from the garden of her old house. This was a strange request in mid-January when all the grounds were covered in deep snow. However, the saint’s cousin went to the garden and she found a single rose in full bloom and a ripe, fragrant fig which she promptly brought to Rita. Since then, the roses and the scent of roses in impossible places tell us that Santa Rita is present and her intercession for us was successful. Saint Rita shares this beautiful symbol with Saint Teresa of Lisieux.

Although my wish was not immediately granted, I now know that that scented pink cloud in that little church was in fact a divine sign sent from above: And the Lord spoke: “You have earned my goodwill, and I know you by name.” (Exodus, 33.17).

It was a sign that God never breaks His promise to us: ask and you shall receive.

You must be getting ready to go to work soon. Remember, you also have Santa Rita on your side in times of trouble and despair. Patiently persevere; even making you wait for a long time, God has the divine purpose of him that must be fulfilled.