I had a parish priest who will remain annonymous. I wasn’t fond of him for a long time (I wasn’t a very good christian at the time) but I will never forget him. It bothered me that the Green Bay Packers crept into his homilies and were then used as an excuse for ending the sermon, so we could all get home in time for the game. BUT, I recieved our Lord in the Eucharist from his hands. I’m afraid I was judgemental of him and saw him as kind of arrogant. (forgive me Lord)
BUT, I ended up delerious and detoxing in a hospital from all the drugs I was on. I truely or falsely was seeing angels and demons. I felt like I was possessed and I asked for father to come. And he did. I told him everything going on in my head and he talked with me for some time and to be honest, I don’t remember alot of the conversation. I was on heavy psychotropic drugs and was really messed up. I do remember him praying over me though, with his hand over over my head. I might have even made a confession, I don’t remember.
The important thing is, throughout the massive spiritual war that was raging inside of me, his act of kindness helped me focus. Along with prayer and a vision of Jesus’ sacred heart I got better. The doctors and nurses said I’d never snap out of it. Thank God I did.
Later, while in treatment, I heard some rumors going around about inappropriate behavior. I don’t know the truth of the rumors. I never saw father preach again and only saw him once after that, eating at a diner. I said hi, and we talked for a few seconds. I wish we could have talked longer. I don’t know where you are father, but I want to say I pray for you, God bless you, and I love you.