Cyndi Peterson - Waiting for a Miracle: One Mothers Journey to Unshakable Faith

A SAVIO REPUBLIC BOOK

Published at Smashwords

ISBN: 978-1-68261-139-5

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-68261-140-1

WAITING FOR A MIRACLE

One Mothers Journey to Unshakable Faith

2016 by Cyndi Peterson with Ginger Kolbaba

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Christian Bentulan

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

CHAPTER 4

Hiding

J esus .

I was so far from Jesus. And I felt sad that I wasnt exposing my children as much as I should to a relationship with Christ, even though they were just babies.

I wanted to get closer to Christ. I hadnt realized how far I had drifted from my faith. But I wasnt ready to take any major steps to get back to my Catholic rootsother than attending mass. Drew had never expressed much interest in spiritual things and I didnt really want to broach the topic with him, so I kept it to myself.

Three months after the dream, one afternoon I left work at the usual time and headed home. I pulled onto El Camino Real and drove through the heart of Encinitas. The traffic, which was usually heavy at that time of day, was like a parking lot. I hit stoplight after stoplight, and the six-mile trip from my office building to my house seemed to take forever. Twenty minutes passed and I was still sitting in the jam and growing frustrated.

As I hit yet another stoplight, I sighed heavily and began mindlessly to look at the shopping center to my right. I spotted the usual placesRubios Fish Tacos, T J Maxx, and a cinema. Then one store in particular caught my eye. The sign above the shop said Chronicles and another sign in the window announced that this was a Christian bookstore. Id never seen that store before. Id made that drive at least a year-and-a-half and had never noticed it.

I remembered that my nieces baptism was the following weekend and I needed to get her a gift.

Maybe theyll have something appropriate in there , I thought. I glanced around at the thick traffic and then looked at my watch. It was getting late and I needed to get home to start making dinner. But I was still a good distance from the house and I really didnt want just to sit in my car.

So I wormed my way toward the parking lot entrance, made a quick right-hand turn, and parked. As I stepped out of my car, I started to rethink my decision. Id never before been in a Christian bookstore. I wasnt sure what to expect and felt nervous about what I might experience. I knew they werent going to attack me! But I had an odd feeling about the whole prospect of entering this new and unknown world.

I knew I didnt have a lot of time, so that helped calm me. Id rush in, take a quick look around, hopefully find something, buy it, and get out. So I picked up my step and headed for the door.

As soon as I walked in I felt overwhelmed. There was a lot to take in all at once! Christian stuff was everywhere. I noticed a sweet, pleasant aroma that permeated the shop. Some type of contemporary music filtered through a speaker system. I was surprised that the music was kind of catchy. Not the hymns I would have imagined, but more contemporary. The singers talked about how God loves us.

A tall woman approached me, smiling. She looked to be in her fifties, medium build, with short brown hair and reading glasses, and as-sweet-as-pie nice. For some reason, the whole scene irritated me. Everything about the shop felt syrupy and sappy.

Can I help you? she asked.

No, no. Its okay. Ill just look. I felt uneasy and definitely out of my element. I wanted to blend in as if I felt completely at ease, but I wasnt sure what exactly I was looking for, so I decided just to roam. The store was brimming with every kind of religious item I could have imagined. I walked past a counter that looked like a jewelry case. It held rings and bracelets and bookmarks, and on the top were placed little keychain ornaments. To my left was a whole section of CDs and DVDs. Another section had rows of books, and the back wall housed a whole row of Bibles. Throughout the store were banners and artwork hanging from the ceiling. To my right were all kinds of gifty items: paintings, plaques, pottery with Christian insignia on the sides, cards. Having never entered a store like this before, I felt as though I was being smothered with holy things. I wandered toward the back of the store, and against the back wall I saw a simple ceramic cross with a girl kneeling in prayer on it.

Perfect , I thought as I took it from its hook and headed toward the cash register. I wound my way through the aisles and found myself slowing down as I hit the book section. I love to read and even though I was so busy with the kids and my work, and the clock was ticking for me to get home, I couldnt help myself by wanting to browse just a little.

A small sign hung above one of the bookcases that said, Catholic Books.

I walked over and began scanning the shelves for anything interesting. As I took a closer look at what the store had to offer for Catholics, all of a sudden, a few feet from me off to my left, a book suddenly fell off a shelf and landed almost directly in front of me.

I froze and could feel adrenaline rush through my body. Had anyone else seen what had happened? I quickly looked around to see if anyone had accidentally knocked it over, but no one was around me. The hair on my arms stood on end. I looked again to see if maybe someone was on the other side of the shelf. But I was alone. Slowly I moved closer to investigate.

The portrait of Mary, the mother of Jesus, on the deep-blue cover immediately caught my attention. She looked beautiful; clothed in blue and white, she was smiling gently with an expression that emanated pure love. My heart melted. I bent down and picked up the book. Medjugorje: The Message read the title. Next to Mary, it read: On June 24, 1981, six children in the mountain village of Medjugorje in central Yugoslavia reported that the Virgin Mary had appeared to them on a hillside. Allegedly she has been returning every day since.

I flipped the book to the back cover and read that the books author, Wayne Weible, was a Protestant journalist who had heard of the childrens story and set about to investigate their claims.

Something about the book seemed familiar. I slowly and tenderly caressed the book cover, trying to figure out why I knew that name, Medjugorje. Then it came to me. When I was a teenager, my mother had mentioned the miracles of Medjugorje to me. She had been excited and intrigued by the prospect of what these kids had experienced. I hadnt paid much attention at that time, but now the memories of my sweet mother flooded my mind. I had been close to herwe spoke over the phone nearly every day. But she had passed away suddenly several years before. I still missed her terribly.

I started to page through the book and wondered, Whatever happened? Had the church approved what the kids had seen? I was sure that whatever had happened was now finished.

I put the book to my chest, determined to buy it. I thought it would be a fun and interesting read. Not every day do people see Mary, I rationalized. But also, it was a way to connect with my mom, whom I had lost nearly a decade before. Now with my book and the cross, I worked my way to the cash register. It was time to make my exit.

Halfway to the front, however, I stopped as reality came crashing back in on me.

What am I doing? I dont have time to read this . And then I thought about Drew. How would I explain that I was reading religious stuff?

I put the book on a shelf and continued toward the cash register to purchase the cross for my niece. But then another thought stopped me midway: This is an important moment in your life. You can either leave and your life will never change, or you can go back and get that book and your life will change .