Forgiving Mother: A Marian Novena of Healing and Peace

by Marge Steinhage Fenelon Narrated by Therese McLaughlin

Overview

Forgiving Mother offers you practical guidance and spiritual wisdom to begin your journey to wholeness of spirit. Highly recommended! ¿ Lisa M. Hendey, author, The Grace of Yes

Marge Steinhage Fenelon knows the pain, fear, hopelessness, insecurity, resentment and anger of being raised by a troubled mother. She also knows the way out: Mary.

In Forgiving Mother, Fenelon deftly explores the ways the Blessed Virgin can provide comfort and healing if you truly desire it. Drawing from personal experience as well as wisdom from Church documents, Scripture, and the saints, Fenelon sketches a path from despair to peace. She offers concrete steps and prayers to help you deal with the painful memories, emotions and fears that are rooted in your past.

Part memoir, part spiritual guide, Forgiving Mother is a workbook for healing even the most deeply rooted pain. It also includes a novena, which you can pray alongside each chapter or as a final step in the healing process. You will likely find solace from going through the novena again and again, as you¿ll find healing is a cyclical process¿not a linear one.

You are a child of Mary and she loves you tenderly. She really, truly is your mother¿given to you by our Lord as he hung dying on the cross. Jesus wants you to accept his mother as your own and to develop a deepening relationship with her so that she can fill the void that the past has left inside of you. And in her kind, motherly way, she will. What¿s more, she will lead you to her son who, as God, is the ultimate source of all healing and peace.

Pray through it, meditate on it, and let Mary¿s love sink into your heart and soul. Above all, be gentle with yourself. This is your healing process, and no one else¿s. With the Blessed Mother¿s help, you can become the whole, healed and truly cherished person you were meant to be.
 

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

"In this incredible book, Marge Fenelon shares with us her touching story of healing and forgiveness. Containing wonderful insights from one of the holiest priests of the 20th century, Fr. Joseph Kentenich, Marge’s story is a testimony to the power of Marian consecration and the rosary. Pray the novena in this book, and allow Jesus and Mary to heal you, too!" —Fr. Donald Calloway, MIC, author, Champions of the Rosary

"Forgiving Mother will lift your heart and soul from the pit of despair to the heights of heaven! Marge Fenelon presents a fascinating journey of a life affected by abuse and how she found comfort, hope, and peace through the compassionate, motherly love of Mary. You will experience the power of God’s love in a more meaningful way within the tender embrace of the Mother of Jesus. Forgiving Mother will inspire and encourage you to plumb the depths of God’s mercy in your own life, leading you to profound healing and deeper intimacy with the Lord through the heart of His Blessed Mother." —Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers, author, Behold the Man: A Catholic Vision of Male Spirituality and Ignite: Read the Bible Like Never Before

"Are you broken by woundedness which keeps you from attaining peace, happiness, and the full potential of God's will for your life? Are you ready to "be well"? Let Marge Fenelon be your companion to a full and healing relationship with God through the beautiful and salvific intercession of our Mother Mary. Coupled with therapeutic remedies, Forgiving Mother offers you practical guidance and spiritual wisdom born of Marge's own personal experience to begin your journey to wholeness of spirit. Highly recommended!" —Lisa M. Hendey, author, The Grace of Yes
 
"As someone who has struggled through the pain of broken relationships, Marge's book is a breath of fresh air.  It reminds us that most families are not exactly Norman Rockwell material.  And while as Christians we are called to forgive, reconciling, even with those in our circle of family and friends, sometimes may not be possible.  With the Blessed Mother as her guide Marge helps us navigate this emotional journey with hope that leads to the healing of our own wounded hearts." — Teresa Tomeo, media expert, motivational speaker, bestselling author

"This book will be an invaluable asset for those who need to forgive and be forgiven. Marge had courageously shared the story of her painful childhood experiences in order to bring others an awareness of a path for healing. Seeking the assistance of the Blessed Mother's guidance in prayer, Mary affirms all her children as they unite their experiences in a deepening relationship with her Son." — Archbishop Jerome E. Listecki, Milwaukee, Wisconsin 

"A masterpiece of spiritual insight and practical wisdom, Forgiving Mother is sure to lift readers out of the darkness of the past and into a present suffused with light, love, and healing. — Lisa Mladinich, author, True Radiance: Finding Grace in the Second Half of Life

 

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169996944
Publisher:	Franciscan Media
Publication date:	02/20/2018
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Yes, You Can Heal

Now there is in Jerusalem at the Sheep [Gate] a pool called in Hebrew Bethesda, with five porticoes. In these lay a large number of ill, blind, lame, and crippled. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been ill for a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be well?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; while I am on my way, someone else gets down there before me." Jesus said to him, "Rise, take up your mat, and walk." Immediately the man became well, took up his mat, and walked.

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Bethzatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids — blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me." Jesus said to him, "Stand up, take your mat and walk." At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.

— John 5:2 — 9

Do you want to be made well?

That is what Jesus asked the sick man at the Sheep Gate (called Bethesda in Hebrew). The man had been ill for thirty-eight years. The blind, lame, crippled, and sick would go to the healing pool and immerse themselves — or have someone else immerse them — in the healing waters. But the sick man had no one to help him.

It is interesting that our Lord asked the man if he wanted to be well. Wouldn't it seem obvious that he wanted healing since he had been hurting for decades? Why else would he have been there?

And, since Jesus is God, he already knew whether or not the man desired a cure. He knows what is in the heart of every human being. He did not need to ask because he knew; he asked for the man's sake rather than his own. He wanted the man to examine himself and decide whether or not he wanted to be well. He wanted the sick man to participate in his own healing.

Do you want to be made well?

Believe it or not, for a very long time, my answer to that question was no. I was afraid of what it would take to be made well, so I preferred to stay just as I was, ignoring my pain and hiding my past.

I wanted to be vindicated, excused, hidden, and even at times patronized for the wounds I had suffered from my mother's mental illness. I wanted to be whole and free of the pain, and I wanted to feel normal in the way I assumed everyone else but me felt. I was sure that I was the only person in the world (aside from my siblings) with a mother like mine, or at least I was the only one of my friends and acquaintances. Admitting that I needed to be healed meant admitting that I was different, and I did not want that. I wanted other people to think that whatever went on in my house was just like whatever went on in any other house on my block, on my street, or even on the entire earth, for that matter.

No, I did not want to be well, not in the way that Jesus meant well, and not in the way I needed to be well. I certainly wanted to be relieved of those wounds, but I did not want to go through the work of affecting that relief. I just wanted to be rid of the whole mess. I did not want to let Jesus heal me because that would mean allowing myself to be vulnerable to the past. Pretending as though none of it had every happened seemed to be the safer route.

That was easy to do since my mother was very gracious and active in our church and community. She volunteered for parish functions, corrected student assignments for the teachers of the parish school, and taught religious education. She joined a civil service group that, among other activities, assisted the city police during the horrible rioting that took place in the summer of 1967. For many years, she organized an annual Christmas party for orphans — complete with food, drinks, entertainment, gifts, and of course, a visit from Santa Claus. I remember riding along and sitting in the back seat of the car as she went from company to company to company, soliciting donations for the orphans. Although she ticked off a good number of people (usually on purpose), she had many friends and was well liked socially and at work. No one guessed what she was like at home.

From early on, I was aware that my mom was somehow broken, and I had mixed feelings about it. At times, I would become angry at her behavior because I thought she should know better. After all, she was the adult. Right? At other times, I felt sorry for her because it seemed as though she did not know better, or at least was incapable of acting better. There even were times when she seemed genuinely contrite for her actions, giving me hope that she would change her ways. Then things would turn around again, dashing my hopes. As a child, I did not understand that mental illness — and the emotional turmoil related to it — is an insidious thing that can disappear and reappear at the blink of an eye.

Even if I had tried to share my secret, I doubted that anyone would have believed me. My mother was always convinced that I was somehow up to no good and tried to convince others of the same. I think she was projecting her own sinfulness on me, and there were many times she tattled on me to the priest or my youth leader about some fictitious or imagined sin I had committed. Oddly, she bought clothes for me that were on the outer fringe of being modest and insisted I wear them. When I wouldn't, she would become furious. While she frequently accused me of being sexually illicit, she herself struggled with infidelity for most of her married life. I sometimes was required to accompany my mother and one of her boyfriends on dates — even once to a parish May Crowning! It was humiliating and confusing all at the same time.

Mom seemed unable to understand the seriousness and consequences of her actions. One can hide such a sin for only so long, and eventually my dad discovered my mom's affairs. There followed a series of counseling sessions, and things seemed to get better. I was grateful to Mom for admitting her guilt and recommitting to her marriage and wanted to tell her so. I found the Scripture passage in which Jesus forgives the adulteress and showed it to my mother, anticipating that it would offer her hope and a chance for healing. She read the passage, threw the Bible down, and berated me for having accused her of being an adulteress. This kind of scene occurred many times about many different things over the years. In her mental and emotional state, my mother never seemed to be able to acknowledge or recall any of her wrongdoings.

I came close to asking for help once. The school's annual Christmas play was drawing near, and each student in our class was asked to bring two dozen cookies for the social afterward. When I passed the request on to my mother, she scolded me for the inconvenience and refused to bake the cookies. So, the next day, as the teacher was tallying the number of cookies that would be donated, I made up an excuse about my dad not getting paid and our having no more flour in the house to bake cookies. I felt stupid because all the other moms were glad to contribute. The teacher promptly went back to my mother with this news. I can still hear them laughing and my mother saying, "I have no idea how she came up with that!" My mother promised the cookies and delivered them herself to my teacher. That was the end of my search for help. From that moment on, I decided I would simply keep it to myself.

Unlike the man beside the pool of Bethesda, I did not want to be well. At least I did not want to be made well — there is a difference. Yet, the two of us did have something in common: we could not get to the healing waters on our own. When Jesus asked the sick man whether he wanted to be made well, he was really measuring the man's faith. It is much like asking, "Do you trust me?" He wanted the sick man to realize and truly feel his trust in him. I had faith in Jesus, but not the kind I needed to surrender my wounds to him.

So I hid them away and pretended that they were not there. At times, I even hid myself, and one of the places I went to hide was a small, white shrine dedicated to Mary. It was a Schoenstatt Marian Shrine, and it had been built on the playground of my elementary school. When I was in first grade, one of my teachers introduced me to the shrine. Despite the chaos I faced at home, I frequently got very homesick at school. One day, probably to coax me out of my tears, the gentle Sister of Mary took me out of the classroom, down the hall, out onto the playground, and into the shrine. From the moment Sister opened the door, I felt at home.

Quite literally, I was at home. A picture of Mary holding the Child Jesus in her arms was enshrined above the altar. It was the exact same picture of Mary that hung above my couch at home! At that instant, I believed that the Sisters had hung it there just for me (oh, the mind of a six-year-old!), so I would no longer get homesick. Of course, I soon learned that the picture was not a copy of mine at home but rather the opposite. Originally titled Refuge of Sinners, it had been renamed by the International Apostolic Movement of Schoenstatt as Mother Thrice Admirable, Queen and Victress of Schoenstatt. That picture and the movement's founder, Fr. Joseph Kentenich, would play a vital role in my life (as I wrote about in the Introduction).

After that day, I visited the shrine as often as I could. For the most part, I just sat there. Sometimes I would do my best to say the rosary, even though I did not fully know how. But, usually, I just sat and stared up at that picture and relished the peace and quiet of the shrine. There was a lot of conflict in my childhood home — between my parents and us siblings as well — and the shrine was void of the bickering, cursing, uneasiness, and noise at home. I felt safe there, and I was soothed by looking into the Blessed Mother's eyes. I loved examining every feature of her face, her hands, her veil. And I loved gazing at the baby Jesus nestled snugly in her arms. I felt protected and loved.

I was too young to understand Marian theology — or to even be aware that such a thing existed, for that matter — but I was not too young to sense that somehow the answer to my healing was in that shrine. More specifically, the answer to my healing was in Mary. There was no vision, no locution, no sudden revelation. Instead, it was a slow, subtle, and simple knowing that she had something I needed. And I kept wanting more and more of it. Looking back, I realize that in the Marian Shrine, I had met the person who would move me closer to the pool of Bethesda. Her name is Mary. Here is the most amazing part of my discovery. Mary moved me closer to the pool, and she is ready to move you closer, as well.

Do you want to be well? Do you really want to be well? Are you ready to go through the work of affecting that healing? I think you are; otherwise, you never would have picked up this book.

Read the Scripture passage again, this time slowly and keeping in mind what Jesus means by, "Do you want to be made well?" Put yourself in the place of the sick man. See the pool, listen to the splash of its waters, and hear the rejoicing voices of the others being cured there. Then, look into our Lord's eyes and hear him speak to you.

On most of the occasions in which Jesus healed someone, the cure was a question of faith. Jesus wanted the person to recognize his faith and trust in him. That was true of the sick man at Bethesda.

Now consider the two blind men that our Lord healed on the road near Capernaum. He had just left the home of the Jewish official, Jairus, where he had brought the official's twelve-year-old daughter back to life. Two blind men approached him along the road, begging to be healed.

"Son of David, have pity on us," they cried out to him.

Jesus responded, "Do you believe that I can do this?"

As with the man at Bethesda, Jesus wanted to measure the blind men's faith. He wanted an admission of their trust in him.

The men answered, "Yes, Lord."

Then Jesus touched their eyes and told them, "Let it be done for you according to your faith."

Jesus is saying the same thing to you. Let it be done according to your faith.

You will be healed if you believe that you will be healed. It takes great courage to have faith like that.

Mary had the courage, and she had that kind of faith. When the Angel Gabriel appeared to her at the Annunciation, she was afraid and confused. God wanted something of her that she considered to be beyond her capacity. He wanted her to become the Mother of his Son. Not only was that a daunting task in and of itself, but Mary was a virgin. Motherhood, in the physical sense, was impossible. How did she respond?

But Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?" And the angel said to her in reply, "The holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God." Mary said, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:34–38)

Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" The angel said to her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God." Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her. (Luke 1:34 — 38) Mary was not to be healed, but she was about to be changed in a drastic way. She had only one question, "How can this be?" Once Gabriel assured her that it would be done by God's power, Mary's only concern became following God's will. "Let it be with me according to your word." In courageous faith and trust, Mary allowed God to transform her.

Healing from the woundedness caused by your mother will change you in a drastic way as well. Perhaps you are afraid, as Mary was when the Angel appeared to her. Certainly, there are times when you have been, and will be, confused like Mary was. But if you allow him to, our Lord will transform you, not in making you Mother of God, but in making you the whole and healed person you were meant to be.

But first, he wants you to admit that you want to be well.

CHAPTER 2

Why Is Mary the Answer?

In dangers, in doubts, in difficulties, think of Mary, call upon Mary. Let not her name depart from your lips, never suffer it to leave your heart. And that you may obtain the assistance of her prayer, neglect not to walk in her footsteps. With her for guide, you shall never go astray; while invoking her, you shall never lose heart; so long as she is in your mind, you are safe from deception; while she holds your hand, you cannot fall; under her protection you have nothing to fear; if she walks before you, you shall not grow weary; if she shows you favor, you shall reach the goal."

— Saint Bernard of Clairvaux

The above is one of my favorite quotes about the Blessed Virgin Mary. In it, St. Bernard gives such hope to anyone who calls upon her for help, assuring them that their pleas will not only be heard but answered. That can be hard to fathom if you struggle in your relationship with Mary. It can be even harder if you have no relationship with her at all.

Nearly every time I do public speaking, I am approached after my presentation by someone who confides in me that they "just don't get that Mary thing." My heart breaks for them because I want them to have the kind of relationship I have with her. There is never enough time then and there to help them, but I do my best on the spot to offer a few words of encouragement or advice. Then I hand them one of my business cards and ask them to follow up with me by email so that I can give them more support. Often, they do; sometimes they do not. Either way, I make certain to pray for them, placing them into the care of our lady.

Why are there so many people who "don't get that Mary thing?" Based on my own experiences and opinion, I believe it is usually one of three causes or a combination of them.

(Continues…)

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Excerpted from "Forgiving Mother: A Marian Novena of Healing and Peace"
by .
Copyright © 2014 Lynn Kellan.
Excerpted by permission of Franciscan Media.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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