Greetings from Medjugorje

It's a beautiful morning.  The sun is warming the cold morning air as buses and pilgrims bustle back and forth.  We're in Medjugore, in the southern part of Herzegovina.  Like Fatima, Guadeloupe, and Lourdes, this is a place where Mary has been appearing to seven children for 33 years.  But these appearances are still going on.  We are staying at the house of Mirijana, one of the visionaries.  Being surrounded by so many devote Catholics might be part of the euphoria that stands in stark contrast to our daily lives back home.  My wife came years ago and had a life changing experience.  A true conversion of heart, and a new found devotion to God, His son, and our Mother.

So here I am, on the other side of the world, in what used to be communist Yugoslavia, trying to discern that quiet voice in my own heart.  Part of me would love to witness a miracle.   Something I can use to say, "Aha!  I told you!"  To offer proof to friends and family who have watched with concern as I take steps towards holiness and farther and farther from "normal."  I fear the proof is more for me than them, and I can't help my curiosity about these people surrounding me.

Are they also in need of a sign?  Are they drawn to the spectacle of it all?  Or do they simply have a longing for something more than this world has to offer?  The messages that have come from our lady here for the last three decades is not new teachings.  They have come straight from her son.  Challenging her children to wake up and as she said at the wedding at Cana, "Do whatever he tells you to do."

These people live simply and with humility.  They remind us that if you've come to see a miracle, open your heart and eyes and realize the greatest miracle any of us can witness happens every day at Mass.

I don't know what lessons I'm supposed to learn here.  In the end, I simply hope He sees this as another fumbling attempt by me to find my way closer to Him.  (Of course, if He would like to let me see something amazing, my heart is ready).