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Chapter 4

“If Today You Hear His Voice …”

Throughout Scripture, we see many different examples of God speaking to people. As Catholics, we are also familiar with stories from the lives of saints to whom God has spoken. Some people wonder if God still speaks to us today.

The answer is yes. God does speak to us, and the way in which God speaks is always personal and unique.

For some, it may be a mystical experience in which they hear the voice of God actually speaking aloud. For others, it is a deep interior voice that is not audible but is still very real. God sometimes uses nature, a personal crisis, or ordinary experiences as a vehicle for speaking to us. God also uses other people as instruments in communicating with us.

It is not uncommon for God to speak to us through the words of Scripture. Reading a passage slowly, allowing the message to sink into our hearts, and then reflecting on what God is trying to tell us is a powerful way to hear what God is saying. The Lord also speaks through liturgy — the music, the readings, the homily, the prayers of the Mass, and during our own Communion meditation. It’s not unusual for different people, who were all present at Mass together, to come away with very individual messages from God.

The key to hearing God’s voice is to be open to receiving God’s word. Most Catholics are familiar with responsorial Psalm 95, which urges, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

Pope Francis suggests that we pray the powerful words that Eli recommended to Samuel when it became clear that the Lord was calling Samuel in the night: “Speak, LORD, because your servant is listening” (see 1 Samuel 3:1–10). “We should pray this many times a day,” Pope Francis advises, “when we have a doubt, when we do not know what to do, or when we want simply to pray.”

The stories in this chapter illustrate some of the different ways people have heard the deep interior voice of God in answer to their prayers, and how these people responded to God’s message.

“I Shall Work Through You”

A good friend of mine called one day to ask if I would assist her with a very difficult task. Two children living in our area had both been born without an outer layer of skin on three-fourths of their bodies. They had to be bandaged daily because of a bloody discharge. The bandages had to be covered with Vaseline before they could be applied to the oozing tissue.

I reminded my friend of my lack of nursing skills, my susceptibility to odors, and my weakness in observing open sores, but she still felt I was the one to help in this work of mercy. As the day drew closer for us to go to the home of these special souls, my courage began to fade. I found myself waking at night in prayer, only to be reassured over and over again that, “Yes, Nancy, I shall be with you, and I shall work through you.”

The Lord did support us. I prayed as we went about our work applying the bandages. But my prayer was one of thanksgiving to God for allowing me the privilege of performing the hardest task of my entire life. The beauty of those deformed, bleeding souls was beyond anything I have ever experienced. The strength of God allowed me to go back another day and apply the bandages myself. Compassion and love filled my being. Jesus took away my pounding headache and my shaky knees.

— Nancy Allaire Donohue

Trusting God

When faced with something that we know is beyond our human capabilities, we often find ourselves filled with fear and worry. It is in these anxiety-filled moments that we are called to trust God. The words of Isaiah remind us that trust in God will carry us through whatever difficulties we face in our lives:

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,

the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary,

his understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

and to him who has no might he increases strength. (Isaiah 40:28–29)

God Was Directing Me

Nearly two decades ago, my wife, Mary Lou, was hired to work at the circulation desk at the public library. At the end of her first week, she had lost her key to the library. This was no small matter. In the wrong hands, the key could open the door for the theft of hundreds of valuable books, audios, and videos. Re-keying the library would cost hundreds of dollars and may have cost Mary Lou her job.

We prayed intently for the Lord to help us find the key. We even used my mother’s handy prayer that always seemed to work: “Jesus, lost and found, help us to find what we’ve lost.”

Over the weekend, we searched everywhere. We dumped Mary Lou’s purses and briefcases. We scoured the van and the car. We raked through the lawn near the driveway. We ransacked the house. No key.

On Monday morning, Mary Lou decided with fear and trembling that she would have to report the lost key to her supervisor.

“This cannot happen, Lord,” I prayed. “Let me find that key now.” At that moment, I felt as if God was telling me to check the van one more time. Since we had already searched there many times, it did not seem promising. But when I looked under the driver’s seat, the key was right there in plain sight!

How had that happened? Had we simply not seen it before? Had one of our children played a silly prank, wised up, and put it where we would find it? Or did the Lord find it and put it there because he loved Mary Lou? No matter which option, we thanked God for a little miraculous answer to our prayer.

— Bert Ghezzi

“Where Is a Loving God?”

At age eighteen, I went away to nursing school. I loved it. I could bring smiles to sad faces, take people’s pain away, and make them more comfortable. I was good at taking care of people.

But then, as part of my education, I had to go to a mental hospital for three months. It became a torture chamber for me. All I could see was hopelessness in these suffering people. Their mental afflictions seemed worse than any physical suffering I had experienced. My heart cried out, “Where is there a loving God with all this human suffering?” Darkness of the soul began to enfold me like claws in the night.

After I returned to a medical floor at the hospital, one of the first patients assigned to me was a young woman with three small daughters. Her husband had abandoned her. This young woman was so courageous, but she lost her battle to cancer, and she died. Again my heart cried out, “Where is a loving God with all this human suffering?”

I had been raised a Methodist, and I had cherished my faith since I was a little girl. It had always brought me comfort. But now my faith was dying. I called the minister at my church and he told me, “Don’t worry. Everyone goes through disbelief at one time or another.”

I felt completely empty and afraid. Then I heard the voice of God for the first time in my life say, “Go to the cathedral.” I knew this voice did not come from me because I had always been warned about Catholics. But I was desperate. With shaking legs and a pounding heart, I went to the Catholic cathedral.

A priest opened the door.

“I’m a Protestant,” I said.

He invited me to come in, and he listened to my story with tears running down his face. He shared the time in his life when he felt this same terrible darkness. He knew my heart. He promised me that if I would seek God with all my heart, Jesus would reveal himself to me in ways I could never dream, and nothing would ever take my faith away again.

I felt as if I had been wrapped in a mantle of peace. He gave me his blessing, and I left with hope in my heart. I continued to meet with him for the next few months, and eventually I became a Catholic. The voice of God led me to the Catholic Church and a new life.

— Kathleen Skipper

Dealing with Doubts

Doubts can make us feel as if we have lost our faith. But doubts are not always a bad thing. When we struggle with doubts, it means we don’t have enough information to resolve whatever is troubling us. Our doubts prompt us to start looking for answers. We begin to seek out people who can help us grasp whatever it is that we don’t understand.

“Of course, everyone has doubts at times!” Pope Francis explains. “Doubts which touch the faith, in a positive way, are a sign that we want to know better and more fully God, Jesus, and the mystery of his love for us.… These are doubts which bring about growth! It is good, therefore, that we ask questions about our faith, because in this way we are pushed to deepen it.”

“Speak to Me, Child”

When I was thirty years old, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I went through surgery, chemo, and radiation. Afterward, I was fine. My husband and I always wanted children, but my body had been through a lot, and my chances of getting pregnant were slim. I prayed, “God, whatever is meant to be, it will happen. This is in your hands.”

We were living in Switzerland at the time. Almost ten years later, my husband was offered a job in Canada, where I grew up. Six weeks after we moved to Canada, I found out I was pregnant at age forty. This pregnancy was a miracle. Benjamin was born healthy — a happy, smiley baby.

When Benjamin was twelve weeks old, the cancer came back in my liver, bones, and lungs. My family and friends were devastated, but I said, “Nope. God is going to take care of me.” I told the doctors that I would do everything they told me to do, but I did not want to hear any details about the cancer, and I did not want to know the prognosis. I didn’t want their voices in my head. I prayed, “God, I am your child. Sickness is not supposed to be part of our lives. You died on the cross to save us. I am giving all of this to you.”

I was raised Catholic, and prayer has always been a part of my life. A healing priest told me that in my prayer, I should thank God for healing me. He said physical healing is not the only way God heals. Emotional stability is an important part of healing. So my prayers became prayers of thanksgiving for the way God was working in my life. I decided to live as if I was already healed.

Things went really well for the first few months, but then it got ugly again. I had pain in my back and hip. They tried radiation and more chemo. Then I got pneumonia. I could not get out of bed. I lost weight, and I was completely out of it because of the painkillers. I couldn’t hold my baby for weeks. My family thought this was the end. But suddenly, I heard a voice say, “Speak to me, child.”

A profound sense of childlike faith and belief came over me. I prayed out loud, “Lord, I believe I am supposed to be here for my child and my husband, and as a testimony to you. If this is supposed to be, I know you will make it happen. But if you are going to take me, then please just do it.”

I went to sleep, and the next morning I woke up with no fever and a lot of energy. I got out of bed and began to take care of Benjamin. I also gained a new understanding of childlike faith. When my son needs something, I take care of him. God was taking care of me in the same way.

There were several more good months, but then the chemo stopped working. I asked about an experimental drug. It would be risky because I would have to be off chemo for four weeks before I could start the battery of tests to see if I would qualify for the clinical trial. I prayed about it, and I had the feeling that this was something I needed to do.

Four weeks later, I passed all of the tests except the last one. My hemoglobin level needed to reach 90. It was 83. I begged the nurse to give me twenty-four hours and let me try again. A lot of people and prayer groups were praying for me, so I went home and sent messages to everyone to pray. I ate foods that would boost the iron in my blood. When I went back the next day, my hemoglobin was 90.

This was a randomized clinical trial, so the next hurdle was to find out if I would receive the experimental drug or regular chemo. I prayed, “God, it is up to you whether this is the right drug for me. I give it to you to decide what is for my greatest good.” Later that afternoon, I was told I would receive the experimental drug.

The drug started working immediately. My health is now stable. Lumps in my bones disappeared. My scans show tumors shrinking. I haven’t been sick. I am living a totally normal life with a lot of energy, and I am able to take care of my son.

Throughout all of this, I learned that it’s not just about praying. It’s also about believing. It’s about giving everything to God and putting yourself into a state of receivership. It’s about having a childlike faith that God will take care of you no matter what happens.

— Maria Eisenring

The Beauty of Childlike Faith

“A child has nothing to give and everything to receive,” Pope Francis explains. “A child is vulnerable, and depends on his or her father and mother. The one who becomes like a little child is poor in self but rich in God. Children, who have no problem in understanding God, have much to teach us: they tell us that he accomplishes great things in those who put up no resistance to him, who are simple and sincere, without duplicity.”

“Be Still”

I taught school for forty-seven years, and everything I did had to do with teaching. I enjoyed teaching, but after forty-seven years I said to myself, “It’s time to move on!”

I had no idea what I would do. I was offered a few different positions, but they did not seem like a good fit. I started going out for prayer walks. It was winter, and one day I stopped by a dormant tree. I saw this tree as a symbol of strength because it held the promise of new life in the spring. Then I heard an interior voice saying, “Be still.”

I opened my hands and my heart, and I prayed, “Help me to let go. I give you my life. I need a new view. Show me the way.”

A few weeks later, I received a call from a woman who invited me to lunch. She offered me a position in a medical office. I had no knowledge of taking a temperature or a blood pressure. I said, “There is no way I could accept this position.”

She said, “Why don’t you come in tomorrow and check it out?”

So the next day I went to the medical office, and I shadowed someone all day. I went back the next day, and three years later, I was still working there. For the first year and a half, I took temperatures and blood pressures when the patients came in. I learned how to do EKGs and breathing treatments. I truly enjoyed this new ministry.

Then I was asked to move into the office, where I would be doing clerical work and making follow-up appointments. At first, I didn’t think I wanted to move because I loved the connection that I had with the patients. But now the patients come to me after they leave the doctor, and I can be a life-giving presence to those who are sick or suffering.

If they need surgery, I give them a medal and say, “Keep this.” Or I hand them a little heart and say, “I will hold you in my heart.” At times, I present patients with a prayer shawl and pray with them.

This job was truly an answer to prayer. It has transformed my life and lifted my faith in God to new heights. I will always have an attitude of gratitude for this experience.

— Sister Barbara Whelan, O.S.F.

What is a Prayer Walk?

A prayer walk is simply praying while walking. Some people prefer prayer walking in the countryside, on a beach, or in a park because the beauty of nature lifts one’s heart and mind to God. But prayer walks can take place in the neighborhood, on a treadmill, in a shopping mall, on the way to work, or in any place where you want to transform walking into a form of prayer.

“I Kept My Promise”

I was twenty-seven years old when I divorced a very abusive, violent, vindictive man, who had discovered the best way to hurt me was by abusing our four children. Once we were divorced, he continued to abuse and harass us. Somewhere along the way, I became fearful that he would actually succeed in killing me. I was obsessed with the thought that if I died, he would fight my parents for custody of the children — not because he loved and cared about his children, but to hurt everyone.

So I prayed (begged is probably a better word) and asked God to let me live long enough to see my children grow up, and be happy, and able to take care of themselves. After a few weeks of asking for this favor over and over, I decided God had gotten the message. I calmed down, let it go, and actually forgot about it.

Years later, I got a phone call from my daughter-in-law telling me my thirty-two-year-old son, Thom, had a massive heart attack at work and died. Before I could react or even say a word, I very clearly heard a voice say, “I kept my promise.” I instantly knew it was the voice of God. The grace and mercy of those words enabled me to accept Thom’s death and to be there for my other children.

A few years later, my son, Michael, had an extreme flare-up of a rare enzyme deficiency disease that he had since childhood. His body was shutting down, and the doctors thought he might not survive. I could not bear the thought of losing another child. I begged for God not to take my son, but I also told God I would not be mad if he took Michael home. I asked only that He give Mike a happy death if that was his will.

I immediately felt God’s grace flow into me. I felt peaceful. I knew I had done the correct thing even though it was so difficult to think of what might happen. A couple of hours later Mike’s wife called to say he was on the mend, and he hasn’t had another flare-up like that since.

— Susan Stout