Star House

By Linda Carden
Beverly, Massachusetts

Formerly published in Angels on Earth Magazine, August 30, 2006

Brightly colored oil sticks lay ready on my desk next to a big blank sheet of paper. I hadn’t painted since I was a child. I never expected to be doing it in graduate school—until I signed up for a class called Art Therapy and Dreams. I was studying at Lesley University to become an expressive therapist for kids who had a hard time talking about their feelings, usually kids who had been emotionally or physically abused. The different art forms—drawing and painting, dance and drama—gave them ways to communicate and process their experiences. In order to really un-derstand how this therapy worked, I had to try it myself. I stared at the blank paper. Drawing didn’t come naturally to me.

“Don’t judge yourself,” the instructor said. “Just start scribbling!”

I picked up a green oil stick and streaked it across the paper. I made loops and circles with green and red. I grabbed a new sheet and started again. Bright green and purple covered the page, and I added a little blue house up in the corner. I stopped drawing. Where had I seen a blue house like that before?

In a dream! The memory came back in a rush. I was five. My mother had just been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. She told me not to worry, but I did. Was Mom going to die?

Then one night I had a dream. I was walking down our driveway. An angel waited for me at the end. He scooped me up in his enormous wings. He was glorious! He cradled me in his strong arms as we flew into the sky. Up, up, past the moon and the clouds until we came to a little blue house amid the stars. Suddenly I was inside it! And I was no longer afraid. The walls protected me just like the strong arms of the angel. Inside my star house I felt loved and cared for, completely and forever. I felt strong.

That dream became my refuge. No matter how I worried during the day, at night I found comfort in my star house. Finally, I could see that Mom was going to be okay; her disease was under control. I forgot all about my star house—until that day in my art therapy class when it popped out in my painting. I felt a rush of comfort and strength, just like in my dreams as a child.

“Now you can see the power of art and dreams,” the instructor said when I explained my picture.

The star house became an important part of my master’s thesis. Now that it was back in my life, I didn’t want to let go of the feeling it gave me—even after all these years. I hoped it would help me teach other children how to find such strength within themselves.

After graduating I had a chance to put my skills to work with children on psychiatric wards. We celebrated when a child healed enough to leave the hospital. We also knew the harsh reality. For too many the struggle was far from over. It was a big step going from a safe, structured environment into an unpredictable world.

“It’s so frustrating,” I said to another therapist one day. “These kids need a place where they can transition at their own pace.” The words had barely left my mouth when a thought came to me: Why don’t you make a place for them?

That night I lay in bed thinking about my star house. Every child deserved what it had given me: a feeling of being loved and protected. But I had had an angel to carry me there on his wings. I didn’t have wings. Could I help other children anyway?

God, I thought, I felt your loving protection in my dream. I want these children to know that feeling too. Help me find a way.

The next day I called a friend who was the director of a group home in Beverly, Mass., which was not far from where I lived. “That’s quite an undertaking,” he said when I told him the idea.

“But if you do it here in Beverly, I could introduce you to locals who could help.”

My friend made good on his promise. We formed a dedicated board of directors, wrote a mission statement with program policies, and developed a business plan. Star House became a non-profit corporation.

Then the Office of Community Development gave us a grant to buy ourselves a house. I began hunting with a real estate agent. Months went by. I saw house after house with no luck. The few times we did bid, we lost. “It’s hopeless,” I told the agent after another afternoon of searching.

“We’ll find your house,” the agent said. “Don’t worry.” I remembered trying not to worry when my mom first got sick. When I was only five and didn’t know how to keep my worries at bay, God had given me my dream. But now I was all grown up. I would be strong and put all my worries about finding a house in his hands. Perhaps he would give me this dream too. “Okay,” I told the agent. “We’ll just keep on looking.”

A few days later we were driving up a narrow driveway. I looked out the car window at a cheerful blue colonial house, much like the one I had drawn with my oil stick. I opened the car door and got out slowly. Could this be the house for us? I stepped onto the sidewalk. An in-viting path led from the front door right to my feet—and what was that on the ground where I stood? A bright blue star drawn in colored chalk.

The homeowner came out and introduced himself. “My daughter drew that star today,” he explained. “She’s been practicing, and that’s the very first star she got just right!”

Not only just right. More like just perfect. Could there be any doubt we had found our house? After a quick tour inside, we sealed the deal.

Today Star House has six children in residence, aged five to 12. They go to school, play games, have picnics, make friends and get the intensive therapy they need. When they’re strong enough they will move on to live with families of their own.

But even after they move on, I hope they carry Star House with them, just as I have for so many years. Star House isn’t four walls and a roof, or the furniture or toys donated by the community. The real Star House is a safe place where everyone feels God’s love and protection. I thought my angel had built it just for me, but God made the house. All children are welcome there.

Formerly published in Angels on Earth Magazine,  August 30, 2006, now at www.guideposts.com/angels

More information on Starhouse is at www.starhouseonline.org

I was a cradle Catholic and grew up in the faith of my parents, went to Religious Education classes but the faith really didn’t belong to me until June 25, 1998.  Our family faced many difficult times, we nearly lost our first born son but a brand new doctor showed up at the last minute with a cure the more experienced doctors didn’t think know about.  We were told he would be retarded and physically handicapped if we tried the treatment.  He graduated with a double major and a BA from a well known university.  Our daughter didn’t have any problems at all.  Little did we think that nineteen years latter on April 26, 1991 our second son would be killed by a drunk driver and the only reason my wife is here is that a high school student that just finished a CPR class gave her life back to us.  Stress was high in the family; we all seemed to go our separate ways in search of meaning.

My wife Betty came home the next year with this crazy idea about a modern day Fatima happening Bosnia.  Anyway my attitude was wonderful.  So what’s for dinner?  My attitude then was if I couldn’t feel it, touch it, smell it, and see it live, then it’s probably not real.

The next year Betty dragged me off to an annual Medjugorje Peace Conference that’s held at UC Irvine, CA.  I was board but felt compelled to stay because of Betty and the fact that we went in one car.

The Sunday morning speaker was Mary Lou Mc Call somebody that worked for I think CNN or NBC.  Anyway she went to Medjugorje to do a story.  You would have to hear the talk.  She was great.  She assumed like any of the better news media people that you knew nothing of Medjugorje and she explained everything in detail; She went as a skeptic and returned as a believer.  She explained the whole experience step by step.  Mary Lou got me interested.

I read every one of Wayne’s books, then another and I decided it was time for a trip.  I had things pretty much set up before talking to Betty about it; you really had to see the look on her face.  “You, Medjugorje?”

A couple of months later we were staying with Ivan’s cousin just two houses down the street from his.  Ivan is one of the visionaries.  We were also right next door to Jakov, another visionary.  Marianna lived across the street.  We had the chance to meet or at least hear each one of the five visionaries speak.  I am still at the “Ya, so prove it to me stage.”

An interesting aside is that Ivan, one of the visionaries (a person that speaks with the Blessed Mother), married a girl from the Back Bay in Boston.  He met her in the states at one of the Medjugorje conferences.

Ivan is very nice to be around.  He invited our tour group to his house so that we could be present for an apparitions (coming of the Blessed Mother) for her daily talk with him.  She appears to him not to anyone else in the room.  There was a pregnant lady with us.  You had to see her unborn baby going wild when the apparition was going on.  When the apparition stopped so did the unborn child.  My first thought was when Mary visited Elizabeth and the baby stirred in her womb.

As part of the trip we took a bus ride to another town to meet Fr. Jozo.  He was the pastor when the children, now 25 years older, began having apparitions.  The church didn’t believe the visionaries, there was a communist government in power, so Fr. Jozo was removed as the pastor of Medjugorje because he did believed and supported the children.

He had a nice talk.  I’m still at the ya, so show me stage.  Fr. Jozo blessed the priests with the power of the Holy Spirit

And then were sent into the crowd to pass on the blessing.  I decided to go to the restroom early so I left the church.  When I returned Betty still hadn’t come out, so I went back in.  What the heck everyone is getting blessed and so I decided to join the line.  One priest came to me, places a cross on my forehead and repeated the blessing.  The power of the Holy Sprit came into me then.  I had this warm and overwhelming feeling of peace and security.  It’s hard to explain.  I had to grab on to the pew to stop myself from falling backward.  I wasn’t the only one that it happened to.

We returned to Medjugorje it was June 25^th, our wedding anniversary and the anniversary of the beginning of the apperations.  People started to share, what had happened to them since arriving.  They were bringing out pictures.  I didn’t have much to say because I was still trying to explain away what had happened to me at Fr. Jozo’s.  You know it must have been group hysteria, weak at the knee because of lack of food but I simply couldn’t find a logical explanation for what happened.  Betty was getting a little upset with me because she wanted to talk but I didn’t want to, I wanted to think.

The English Mass is held each day about noon.  On this particular day because it was the anniversary of the apparitions, there was an additional Mass being held outside for about 30,000 people.  This Mass was said in I don’t know how many languages and the homilies went on forever.  Because there was so many people our group we couldn’t sit together.  As it turned out it was a good thing.

At the consecration of the Mass, the sun divided into two distinct suns and they began spinning in opposite directions.

Suddenly the crowd started making ouing and ahhing sounds and turned to look at the sun, so did I.  As you know looking at the sun is not something humans can do for very long.  I this case you could look at it until the two suns rejoined.  Well, that did it for me.  First Fr. Jozo and now two suns, what else do you need?

We went back to the house and shortly after that our group came together for what we affectionately called group therapy.  Nearly everyone in the group saw what I just described.  Guess you can see why I don’t share this with people unless they ask.  You really had to see my daughter Kathleen’s face when I told her about it.  It was the look of what have you been drinking on the plane.

Our local church sent a group and one lady had been having trouble with her knees for sometime.  Her knee problems stopped and have not restarted since the trip.  Another lady had her rosary turn into gold.  There are many more stories about people in our group.

The thing to remember is that you shouldn’t go to Medjugorje looking for a miracle.  You should go looking for inner peace.  Life is much easier for me now.  People that were a pain in the neck have now drifted away from my life.  The new people have come into my life are truly a joy to be around.

My wife of 44 years will tell you I experienced a true conversion in Medjugorje and I would have to agree with her.  It seems God nudges you little by little until you travel the narrow path. I now have a doctorate in divinity and operate the www.SaintPaulMinistries.net website.  All of the materials offered on the site are free and we average 20,000 downloads per month.  Many times people will ask questions, sometimes people will try and attack myself or the faith but it always seems the Holy Spirit is there to give me the patience and the right thing to say.

Dan Mayne
www.SaintPaulMinistries.net

“Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ”
St. Jerome

When I was at Fatima at the breakfast table, I told my friends how beautiful I thought the nuns singing was in the middle of the night. They replied that clearly the nuns are not up at night singing and that I must have heard angels singing. I’d like to hear it again.

Check out the 2009 Novenas for life at:

http://www.priestsforlife.org/novenas/index.htm

www.prayercampaign.org

Down in the basement of the mall
On the old wooden pews
Of the Carmelite chapel I sit
Waiting for the red light to turn white
For my turn to unload my sins
Like sacks of potatoes
Wound up like a children’s toy against the wall
I push off on the candlelight
And breathe fire
It smells like an old person’s closet
Yet is sweeter than sunrise

William Frederick “Buffalo Bill” Cody (February 26, 1846 – January 10, 1917) was a soldier, bison hunter and showman. He was born in the Iowa and was one of the most colorful characters of the American Old West, and was largely famous for the shows he put on with cowboy themes.

“And it’s in my old age I have found God – And realize how easy it is to abandon sin and serve him. When one stops to think how little they have to give up – to serve God. It’s a wonder so many more don’t do it. A person only has to do right. Through this knowledge I have quit drinking entirely. And quit doing rash things simply by controlling my passions and temper when I find myself getting angry.”

Read more on Buffalo Bill’s Conversion Story

I have said the Saint Jude Novena many times and something always happens when I do. Somehow Saint Jude has a special power when things get tough. Jesus said “ask and you shall receive” and  so faith helps to make this work even, when things appear hopeless.

Below is a short novena to Saint Jude:

http://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/novena/jude.htm

Continued March 8, 2010:

Many years back when I was looking for an apartment in Vermont and all semed lost, I stumbled accros a Saint Jude’s Prayer in the paper. It felt like it was directly responsible for finding a spot in a place that was overbooked and that was just right.

Today I ended a 9 day short prayer Novena to Saint Jude for physical healing. I had been sick for 3 months and feel the best I have in a long time for these last 9 days. A new herbal medication came the day the Novena started and tonight on the last day I have a healing session booked that I had been trying to book for a while.

I went to mass yesterday (Monday am) and was reminded so strongly of the healing that comes from mass. Somehow your life energy has a chance to realign without the stresses outside of church. I always say I should go to mass more during the week and that was one more reminder of how it helps.  I prayed in front of the Statue of Saint Jude and feel that somehow such places and objects can make you feel closer to God. I can only imagine if all the world was open to this energy and put statues and cool reminders of God all over the place. Would it be tacky and too much? Are these people all crazy and kitschy? Is times square more or less powerful?

Somerville Madonas

http://somervillemadonnas.com/showall.html

Saint Jude

http://somervillemadonnas.com/60Prescott.html

I was having a health issue that had been bothering me for weeks. The day I ended a nine day novena to Our Lady of Lourdes I went to a Chinese Healer for Tui Na Message. This on the same day as the end of the novena almost completely cured my problem. I once visited Lourdes. While in the Rosary Processions at night, someone said, do you smell that? I clearly smelled Roses and it was a cold fall night when they were definitely not in bloom and were no where in sight. Someone explained that it is a sign of Mary.

ETWN Novena to Our Lady of Lourdes

When my grandmother (my mother’s mother) was dying, I was just a little girl, only five-years-old.  I have very few memories that date back that long ago, but I strongly remember my love for her.  We had a special bond.  Several years ago, midway through my teenage years, my mother told me some details about the hours leading up to my grandmother’s death.  She said that right before grandmother died, the agonizing whimpers she had been uttering ceased and she began giggling like a little girl.  She was giggling and saying, “they’re ticking me…they’re all around me and it tickles.”  My mother and her siblings who were in the room witnessing this miracle knew then that God had sent his best angels to escort my grandmother to heaven.

Hearing this boosted my faith and gave me an almost tangible proof that there is a Heaven and God is there waiting with open arms to bring us home.  Lately, I rely so much on my spiritual connection with my grandmother in Heaven.  I listen to her whispers in my life, just as I listen to God’s whispers (and sometimes his shouts!)

Recommendation: I am almost finished reading the novel “The Shack” by William Young.  A wonderful novel I highly recommend to any Christian who needs that extra “proof” that there is a God… who let his only son, Jesus die for our salvation–a man made in our own image–we may sometimes forget just how ‘human’ God really is.

Beth

This prayer works! I said it for the typical 9 days but am thinking I will say it more. I was going through a number of relationship and health issues which were helped significantly during the Novena. At the end of the Novena a nice, surprise news story came out about my business. While not all the answers I received were the ones I wanted, I received answers just the same and many knots were untied. I am thankful to feel the power of grace.

Give it a try:
www.maryundoerofknots.com

Another site with more info:
http://www.desatadora.com.ar/indice-i.htm

Credit: maryundoerofknots.com

John McDougall