I was a Catholic for number of years before I left the church on His command. Many of those years I was lukewarm at best. The last year or so, He steered me toward studying the saints. I greatly enjoy reading about them. When I first converted, I had a thirst for praying for the conversion of sinners, and soon, praying for souls in Purgatory was added. Meditating on His Passion has not discontinued. The Lord told St. Gertrude that the prayer most pleasing to Him was prayer for the conversion of sinners.
In 2009, He allowed me to feel a portion of the anguish He suffered on Holy Thursday. I didn't know what was going on exactly at the time, for I also had a sore throat at the time. But it simply couldn't have caused the horrible foreboding feeling I felt, as if the whole world was going to come to an end. It's almost unexplainable how I felt when I curled up in my bed that Day. Why did I feel an overwhelming urge to say aloud, 'Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." I don't know if I said the exact same words found in Matthew 26:39, but I said basically the same thing. I can only think right now that I must have caused Jesus a great deal of pain because of my sin. Had I ever had a more horrific day in my life? I don't think so.
Good Friday was a little better, and although I was reeling from the day before, I somehow made it to church. Either Saturday or Sunday morning, I awakened, and shortly thereafter I felt the strangest sensation rippling through my body. It can only be described as a fluttering throughout my frame, even on my face. Was this how it would feel to be resurrected? I can only suppose. Like what happened on Holy Thursday, the fluttering feeling only happened to me once.
I supposed it was because of the strange things that were happening to me, the dreams, visions and the like, that directed me toward the saints. Now I'm not saying I'm a saint, but I am saying that something that occurred to me did occur to some of the saints. St. John of the Cross experienced what he called 'The Dark Night of the Soul.' I have a book on his life, but since I've been trying to write a book, I haven't picked it up.
To me, it felt as if there was a complete absence of God around me that Holy Thursday. I smile now as I recall the evil beings known as Dementors surrounding Harry Potter, sucking the life force out of him. (goose bumps) And just now, I am envisioning my guardian angel trying to get through them to help me during that time, and the nasty buggers keeping her or him back.
I think my guardian angel may be a young-looking girl with long, golden locks. I dreamed about her. Will have to blog it.