(continuation of "Adventures in Babysitting")
The next Wednesday, Larry had the day off. The children were in school, so we went into town to look around at the shops. As we walked, Larry asked if I was going to the convent that evening. I told him I had decided not to go. After all, the group was made up of four nuns and me, a married woman with four children.
We stopped in front of a second hand shop and went in to browse. I saw a small bookcase with old books lining the shelves. On the top of the bookcase were assorted booklets and pamphlets. The bookcase was situated beween two separate areas of the store and as I squatted to see the titles of the books on the lowest shelf, someone walked past the bookcase and brushed some of the pamphlets with their sleeve. As I squatted, my skirt made a sort of catchall onto which two pamphlets fell. The first was titled, "Evelyn Underhill's Prayer Groups." The second was “The Fruits of the Holy Spirit.” I picked these up and when I saw the titles, I was stunned. I showed the pamphlets to Larry and he said, “looks like you are going to the convent again.” I bought the two pamphlets (which I still have today) and I did go back to the convent for prayer every Wednesday for the rest of the time we lived in Harrogate.
About a month before we were to come home to Baltimore, Sr. Lucy suggested I read a book that was in the Harrogate library called Nine O'Clock in the Morning. Every time I went to the library the book had been taken out. I never did get to read it.
Later in the year I joined our parish Bible study that was being formed for Advent. I met some parishioners I had not known before. One of the parish priests led the group and I enjoyed the sharing. When Lent came around, we all hoped to be doing another Bible study. Unfortunately, the priest could not be involved so there could be no study group.
One of the people I met at the Advent study was Jean Smith. Jean had a friend named Ginny Kirby. Ginny was a member of Parkside Methodist Church [1] which was quite near our house on Dudley Ave. Parkside Methodist was having Bible studies in different church members' homes and Ginny asked Jean if she wanted to go to one that was being held on Chesterfield Ave. Jean, in turn, invited me, and I said I would like to go. She gave me the address and it was just two short blocks away from my house.
The night the Bible study was to start, Ginny (who knew the hosts of the Bible study) came down with a virus and Jean was not comfortable going without Ginny since neither of us knew anyone else who would be there. I decided that I would go by myself.
When I knocked at the door, I was feeling a bit insecure bit when the door opened and a lady with bright red hair piled on her head looked at me and said in a very loud, dramatic way, “OOOHH Praise You Jesus!” I wanted to run. Instead I went inside. The red haired lady's name was Ethel. With her were her sister-in-law and her husband, Les. Les was a much more subdued person than Ethel. I later learned that Ethel was an accomplished artist. Les led the Bible study and I made it through. The following week, Ginny and Jean came with me. Not long after that, we were joined by my friends, Nancy and Tony, and soon Ethel's basement was filled with people, many of whom were Catholic like me.
The Bible study continued after Lent with Les leading. We had lively discussions. One night, Ethel said to me, “I have something I think I am to give you.” She went up to her second floor and brought down a book. “I thought today when I prayed for you, the Lord told me to give you this book,” she said as she handed me Nine O'Clock in the Morning. I had never told anyone about the book since I assumed it was a British book and not accessible to American readers. I felt shaky and a bit frightened, much like I did the day Ursula called to babysit. I took the book home and read about the adventures of an Anglican priest who was prayed with for what he called, “the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.” I was amazed at what I read but also a bit wary and unsettled.
The following week was Mother's Day. Rob had a father-son cub scout overnight camping trip that Saturday, with Larry and his return home on that Sunday morning. During the week, my Aunt Edith had died. Aunt Edie was a special lady to me. I had wonderful memories of her from when I was a little girl. She used to read to me and taught me and my sister, Joyce, the words to the latest songs of the day. I remember when I got into the car the day of her funeral, one of my siblings asked if I knew what I would be getting for Mother's Day. I told her I didn't get anything except what the children made for me at school, but that I sure would love a surprise gift.
The evening before Mother's Day, I was finishing up the dishes after the other kids were in bed and had put on a new record we had bought after seeing the musical, Godspell. Of all the songs on the record, I loved “Day by Day” the most. I was singing along with the songs but when I began to sing “Day by Day,” I began singing it as a prayer and as I sang, it was as if someone was lifting my chin up and I was looking up toward the kitchen ceiling. It was a profound moment but I was perplexed about this feeling that my head was being lifted up. Days later, I was to find the scripture that says, “Lift up your heads for your deliverance is at hand.” (Luke 21:28)
The next morning, I awoke with the feeling that my teeth were on edge. As I went to get out of bed, I began to pray and suddenly I was speaking and uttering sounds totally unfamiliar to me. I was speaking in “tongues.” I could stop when I wanted, but I had such a feeling of joy and warmth as I spoke words that I had no idea what they meant. I can still remember the elation I felt that wonderful Mother's Day. I remember thinking, “Wow, Lord, you really did give me a surprise gift!” I didn't know who I could share this experience with. I really needed to tell someone. I began to understand in a miniscule way the apostle's need to proclaim the Gospel to the crowds after Pentecost, and their being filled with the Holy Spirit. The crowds who heard them said they must be drunk. Others answered, “But it's only nine o'clock in the morning!”
Later that day, I went up to Les and Ethel's house, and told them what had happened to me. “Praise God!” Ethel said, using her favorite expression. “I think it's time you come with us to the charismatic prayer group we go to at All Saints Catholic Church on Friday nights. You need some understanding of what the Lord is doing in your life now. The prayer group has a series of teachings called 'Life in the Spirit' Seminars. Would you go with us?” I did go the following Friday and learned that the language I had received was a “prayer language” that the Holy Spirit had given me to praise God and to use when I did not know how to pray or what to pray for. I read for the first time 1 Corinthians 14 which speaks of the gift of tongues, and I was awed and humbled.
It was after the first prayer meeting that the Lord delivered me from the grip of smoking cigarettes. I wanted to go back for more instructions and the prayer meeting that followed the seminar. I had enjoyed the charismatic worship this time unlike the time I went just after returning from England. I asked Larry if he'd mind my going and he said he wasn't real thrilled about that and really didn't want me to go. Since I had signed up for the class, I called to let the young college student, Mary Grace O'Brien (later to be Mary Grace Arconti), to let her know that I would not be there and possibly not at all. She told me that I was not to come if my husband did not want me to come but that she would pray for the Lord to change his heart.
The following week, Larry came to me and said if I wanted to go to the seminar, he would have no objection. His only stipulation was that I get a babysitter so he could come as well. He said he knew something big was happening since I had not smoked for over a week and had never before been able to stop for longer than 24 hours. He did go with me and with the two of us eventually being able to pray together in a deeper way, we were able to share the rest of our spiritual journey together.
The journey has not always been smooth. Often it was quite rough, but being able to pray together, and to seek God's will for ourselves individually and as a couple and as parents has kept us together in a time when divorce has been more prevalent than stable marriage.
Jesus, thank you for people like Ethel and Mary Grace who prayed for me. Thank you for the many others who continue to pray for me now.
[1] Now known as New Life United Methodist Church.
About a month before we were to come home to Baltimore, Sr. Lucy suggested I read a book that was in the Harrogate library called Nine O'Clock in the Morning. Every time I went to the library the book had been taken out. I never did get to read it.
I was missing my little spontaneous prayer group which when I left had four more lay people in addition to the nuns. Some of us were becoming a lot more comfortable with this type of prayer. About two weeks after I was home, I heard someone talk about a prayer meeting at St. Elizabeth's on Ellerslie Ave. I decided to go. What I didn't know was it was a charismatic prayer group with people praising God in loud voices, singing and speaking in “tongues.” I couldn't wait to get out of there. It was nothing like my little group at the convent and this group was quite large (and noisy, I might add).
Later in the year I joined our parish Bible study that was being formed for Advent. I met some parishioners I had not known before. One of the parish priests led the group and I enjoyed the sharing. When Lent came around, we all hoped to be doing another Bible study. Unfortunately, the priest could not be involved so there could be no study group.
One of the people I met at the Advent study was Jean Smith. Jean had a friend named Ginny Kirby. Ginny was a member of Parkside Methodist Church [1] which was quite near our house on Dudley Ave. Parkside Methodist was having Bible studies in different church members' homes and Ginny asked Jean if she wanted to go to one that was being held on Chesterfield Ave. Jean, in turn, invited me, and I said I would like to go. She gave me the address and it was just two short blocks away from my house.
The night the Bible study was to start, Ginny (who knew the hosts of the Bible study) came down with a virus and Jean was not comfortable going without Ginny since neither of us knew anyone else who would be there. I decided that I would go by myself.
When I knocked at the door, I was feeling a bit insecure bit when the door opened and a lady with bright red hair piled on her head looked at me and said in a very loud, dramatic way, “OOOHH Praise You Jesus!” I wanted to run. Instead I went inside. The red haired lady's name was Ethel. With her were her sister-in-law and her husband, Les. Les was a much more subdued person than Ethel. I later learned that Ethel was an accomplished artist. Les led the Bible study and I made it through. The following week, Ginny and Jean came with me. Not long after that, we were joined by my friends, Nancy and Tony, and soon Ethel's basement was filled with people, many of whom were Catholic like me.
The Bible study continued after Lent with Les leading. We had lively discussions. One night, Ethel said to me, “I have something I think I am to give you.” She went up to her second floor and brought down a book. “I thought today when I prayed for you, the Lord told me to give you this book,” she said as she handed me Nine O'Clock in the Morning. I had never told anyone about the book since I assumed it was a British book and not accessible to American readers. I felt shaky and a bit frightened, much like I did the day Ursula called to babysit. I took the book home and read about the adventures of an Anglican priest who was prayed with for what he called, “the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.” I was amazed at what I read but also a bit wary and unsettled.
The following week was Mother's Day. Rob had a father-son cub scout overnight camping trip that Saturday, with Larry and his return home on that Sunday morning. During the week, my Aunt Edith had died. Aunt Edie was a special lady to me. I had wonderful memories of her from when I was a little girl. She used to read to me and taught me and my sister, Joyce, the words to the latest songs of the day. I remember when I got into the car the day of her funeral, one of my siblings asked if I knew what I would be getting for Mother's Day. I told her I didn't get anything except what the children made for me at school, but that I sure would love a surprise gift.
The evening before Mother's Day, I was finishing up the dishes after the other kids were in bed and had put on a new record we had bought after seeing the musical, Godspell. Of all the songs on the record, I loved “Day by Day” the most. I was singing along with the songs but when I began to sing “Day by Day,” I began singing it as a prayer and as I sang, it was as if someone was lifting my chin up and I was looking up toward the kitchen ceiling. It was a profound moment but I was perplexed about this feeling that my head was being lifted up. Days later, I was to find the scripture that says, “Lift up your heads for your deliverance is at hand.” (Luke 21:28)
The next morning, I awoke with the feeling that my teeth were on edge. As I went to get out of bed, I began to pray and suddenly I was speaking and uttering sounds totally unfamiliar to me. I was speaking in “tongues.” I could stop when I wanted, but I had such a feeling of joy and warmth as I spoke words that I had no idea what they meant. I can still remember the elation I felt that wonderful Mother's Day. I remember thinking, “Wow, Lord, you really did give me a surprise gift!” I didn't know who I could share this experience with. I really needed to tell someone. I began to understand in a miniscule way the apostle's need to proclaim the Gospel to the crowds after Pentecost, and their being filled with the Holy Spirit. The crowds who heard them said they must be drunk. Others answered, “But it's only nine o'clock in the morning!”
Later that day, I went up to Les and Ethel's house, and told them what had happened to me. “Praise God!” Ethel said, using her favorite expression. “I think it's time you come with us to the charismatic prayer group we go to at All Saints Catholic Church on Friday nights. You need some understanding of what the Lord is doing in your life now. The prayer group has a series of teachings called 'Life in the Spirit' Seminars. Would you go with us?” I did go the following Friday and learned that the language I had received was a “prayer language” that the Holy Spirit had given me to praise God and to use when I did not know how to pray or what to pray for. I read for the first time 1 Corinthians 14 which speaks of the gift of tongues, and I was awed and humbled.
It was after the first prayer meeting that the Lord delivered me from the grip of smoking cigarettes. I wanted to go back for more instructions and the prayer meeting that followed the seminar. I had enjoyed the charismatic worship this time unlike the time I went just after returning from England. I asked Larry if he'd mind my going and he said he wasn't real thrilled about that and really didn't want me to go. Since I had signed up for the class, I called to let the young college student, Mary Grace O'Brien (later to be Mary Grace Arconti), to let her know that I would not be there and possibly not at all. She told me that I was not to come if my husband did not want me to come but that she would pray for the Lord to change his heart.
The following week, Larry came to me and said if I wanted to go to the seminar, he would have no objection. His only stipulation was that I get a babysitter so he could come as well. He said he knew something big was happening since I had not smoked for over a week and had never before been able to stop for longer than 24 hours. He did go with me and with the two of us eventually being able to pray together in a deeper way, we were able to share the rest of our spiritual journey together.
The journey has not always been smooth. Often it was quite rough, but being able to pray together, and to seek God's will for ourselves individually and as a couple and as parents has kept us together in a time when divorce has been more prevalent than stable marriage.
Jesus, thank you for people like Ethel and Mary Grace who prayed for me. Thank you for the many others who continue to pray for me now.
[1] Now known as New Life United Methodist Church.
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