I regret not writing this whilst I was away, but on reflection there was no time to spare as every minute I felt was an adventure..not wanting to miss any of the action.
Forgive me if I write out of order, I want to share so much, yet it all blends into one amazing memory.
Each morning breakfast was a wonderful start to the day, each meal an opportunity to chat to another pilgrim and discover their hearts. I was never disappointed as I got to know many of the wonderful people in our party.
The food was delicious and plentiful, the staff smiley with servant hearts...all of them beautiful.
Before I arrived I had heard that Immaculee llibagiza would be sharing her testimony. Her inspirational book "left to tell" - about her survival of the Rwandan Genocide - was a huge part of my conversion and so was I excited for the opportunity to see her in person.
( I had secretly hoped she would be staying in the same hotel and we could share a coffee...maybe a miracle for another time!)
It was probably part of The Lords plan to put her on the very last testimony, the very last day of the festival. As I was not aware of 'when' I had no choice but to attend the three hours in the morning consisting of testimonies and talks and to be back at 6pm...for the evening testimonies, Mass and Adoration, so desperate was I - to sit and soak up her amazing story.
I am so grateful I did. The Homilys were powerful, the testimonies....awesome stories of God's Grace
and Mercy in such diverse lives.
The opening ceremony on the Thursday evening was incredible. Swarms of pilgrims gathered together In the open air church. Peacefully filling the rows of benches, silently smiling and nodding respectfully as everyone found a place to sit,kneel or stand.
The music played melodically in the background as the streams of people from all corners of the world joined together as one heart for Christ.
All hearts appeared hungry, respectful of Jesus, respectful of each other. Many different language barriers broken with a smile, the point of a finger, an open hand....a step backwards.
An army of souls..Some in groups, some carrying a flag with pride, children, old people, young teenagers, disabled, gradually filling the area until you felt there was no space for another human. Yet it did not feel claustrophic in spite of the swealtering heat, the early evening rays as bright and piercing as the midday sun.
UV Umbrellas were put up, portable small camping chairs in their hundreds,kneeling pads and mats at the ready as the permanent seating was no where near enough for the 40,000 expected capacity.
I think there were 22 Nations in all officially represented...one by they came in procession, carrying their flag and holding up the name of their home country...each stopping to deliver a greeting of inspiration and warm welcome,..all excited for an inspirational week. There was a huge variety of languages.all translated perfectly by radio, ..some were funny, some poignant, some simply 'hello'...spirit filled Pilgrims with beaming smiles...cheers resounding around the huge body of souls, as each group stepped forward onto the platform.
As Syria came onto the stage, everyone stood in unison, a standing ovation that resounded for many minutes, a cheer beyond any other, representatives from a war torn country, hope in the midst of evil, Love and respect beyond measure.
Tears streamed down my face, with overwhelming comradeship, in union with so many nations, gathered to worship, Praise and Receive from Our Lord and Saviour. This was indeed a taste of Heaven I felt sure of that.
A taste of Heaven
Heavenly skies
Monday, September 21, 2015
Thursday, September 17, 2015
"Open your heart"
"Open your heart" Brankica repeated over again looking directly at me with her arm across her chest...her hand over her heart. Her voice softly penetrated my soul as though the words were coming direct from Our Lady.
I looked into eyes...did she know? A humble servant of God, Branka as we called her seemed blissfully unaware that Mary was talking through her by The Holy Spirit. Her beauty shone from within, her heart fully on fire,
The Holy Spirit flowing through her and out to the hungry Pilgrims.
As our guide, she showed us round the area by the church, giving us a detailed and animated commentary on the various statues, the gravestones and relics.
A vivacious bright eyed friend to the visionaries...she delivered an interesting informative talk which came across full of love. Love for God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, Our Lady, The visionaries and their families, her family, the locals, the thousands of Pilgrims and Medjugorje itself.
Her passion for all was unrivalled and her enthusiasm contagious. Often throughout her guided tour she paused looked directly at us and repeated..."Our Lady says...open your heart, open your heart."
My heart was racing and I wanted to cry buckets of tears...tears of joy. This was the beginning...I was excited...Mary was going to show me all I needed to know. If I opened my heart...she would reveal the answers I was searching for...of that I was certain.
I looked into eyes...did she know? A humble servant of God, Branka as we called her seemed blissfully unaware that Mary was talking through her by The Holy Spirit. Her beauty shone from within, her heart fully on fire,
The Holy Spirit flowing through her and out to the hungry Pilgrims.
As our guide, she showed us round the area by the church, giving us a detailed and animated commentary on the various statues, the gravestones and relics.
A vivacious bright eyed friend to the visionaries...she delivered an interesting informative talk which came across full of love. Love for God, Jesus, The Holy Spirit, Our Lady, The visionaries and their families, her family, the locals, the thousands of Pilgrims and Medjugorje itself.
Her passion for all was unrivalled and her enthusiasm contagious. Often throughout her guided tour she paused looked directly at us and repeated..."Our Lady says...open your heart, open your heart."
My heart was racing and I wanted to cry buckets of tears...tears of joy. This was the beginning...I was excited...Mary was going to show me all I needed to know. If I opened my heart...she would reveal the answers I was searching for...of that I was certain.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Starting out...
By the time we landed in Dubrovnik I had met several more of our group. So many were Medjugorje veterans and knew each other well. I was feeling joyful as we headed out of the airport to our waiting coach.
The 40 degree heat felt stifling, but nothing was going to detract from my impending adventure to discover what The Lord had in store for me.
I had heard horror stories about cliff edge roads from youngsters teasing me, but took comfort in the fact that hopefully God intended me to enjoy the week.
It was an air conditioned coach ride that passed swiftly, taking in breathtaking views of the white buildings with orange tiled roofs in The ancient city of Dubrovnik, the deep deep blue of the ocean, the beautiful mountains.. three hours spent chatting and getting to know my 'new family'.
Liam led us all in praying a rosary, just before we took off into the mountainous roads. It felt good to pray together and gave me a glimpse of what lie ahead.
I've known Liam since he was born, and was amazed how he had grown up serving The Lord in a charismatic way. At 27 he was very professional as he gave us a guided tour of the surrounding area as we crossed the border into Bosnia.
Liam and his two brothers have spent what feels like a lifetime mission to convert me to Catholicism. Over the years they have presented me with infinite amount of books such as 'Home sweet Rome' and 'Left to tell'....both of them powerful and hugely influential on my journey to conversion.
They had prayed fervently and talked endlessly about the Cathoiic Church - along with my son Simon. I always respected their faith and gradually realised my heart was slowly changing. I'm more than grateful to them all, and of course their mum, one of my longest standing best friends, for their huge part in my conversion.
Medjugorje seemed so small with tiny streets meandering through simple brick built houses, interspersed with small quaint shops selling all kinds of religious paraphanalia from candles to priceless paintings...it made a colourful image. It is called the town between the hills and indeed there are two huge hills surrounding this simple humble place.
The coach driver swung the coach around the roads swerving and dancing with the local drivers and taxis - I learnt just how small a space you can fit through! The local pedestrians appeared to be unphased by the traffic seemingly brushing the clothes they were wearing.
We turned into our guest house driveway and could not believe how big and beautiful it was. I had attempted to scan the Internet to have a preview but there were a only few simple photos, showing a couple of the bedrooms and lobby. Because it is not a resort hotel but a humble abode to comfortably house pilgrims there is no requisite to advertise.
The National Medjugorje Movement Blessed us with an opportunity to be staying in the home of one of the visionaries, Marije, that had been extended. I imagined a large three bed semi!
We unloaded from our coach back into the heat, a menagerie of people...still acquainting ourselves politely, introducing those who had not yet met. There was no hope of me remembering all the names...
Marije greeted us and unassumedly welcomed us warmly to her home. She worked quietly in the background all week, smiling. A humble servant of God. Her friend mad Maggie from Scotland was a bubbly lady with a broad accent, who helped look after us like a mother hen.
The whole team had servant hearts and were filled with Grace and Peace that you could feel as they blended into the very essence of this retreat house. Their genuine smiles were heartfelt, no matter what time of the day or night and nothing it seemed, was too much trouble.
We went up to our air conditioned room, three of us sharing. The young Italian lady from the plane, and a lovely polish girl were to be my close companions for the week. The room was ensuite with modern decor in cream and Browns, with natural stone tiles and wooden beams in the ceiling. The balcony door opened inward, revealing a decorative wrought iron railing to save you falling from the first floor.
I confessed to my roommatesthat I snored loudly, which they both politely dismissed. Three days later they were grateful for the earplugs others kindly donated.
The view from the room was magnificent overlooking Apparition Hill and the town centre about a mile away.
We had arrived late afternoon so they prepared lunch for us at 4. The food was delicious and the company good. Every meal was preceded by Grace. It felt good to be among Brothers and sisters in Christ.
After a quick rest we headed off to our first evening Mass. The youth festival was due to start the
following day so the huge crowds had not yet arrived.
The open air Church with a covered area - housing The Altar, space for a choir and a number of priests was stunning. It was surrounded by row upon row of park benches, most of them full, then lots of benches stretching back into the trees which afforded some shelter from the burning sun.
We all sat down, putting up our uv umbrellas if we had them to protect us from those late Rays. The singing from the choir was like soothing balm falling over your soul. We tuned our small radios into the respective frequency for a translation into our mother tongue.
The many trees were home to a zillion crickets which all started singing at exactly the same time, the noise they made as one was almost deafening if you tuned in to it. By day two it became part of the atmosphere and a wonderful picture of how, when there is only one, you can hardly hear the noise their legs made, but when en mass - the volume was intense
As the pilgrims continue to gather I imagined this is how the music would have sounded in Heaven, the multitude worshipping together. Beautiful image.
The mass was reverent and heavenly, interspersed with angelic choruses. I was impressed they managed to give communion to a few hundred people so easily...and then the next few days 40,000 received the body of Christ peacefully and effortlessly, Praise God.
It was a wonderful spirit filled beginning to the week, and afterwards I was drawn to the statue of Our Lady behind the Church. I confess I was stii a bit apprehensive of kneeling before a statue but followed the few that gathered round. If I was to gain fully what Jesus wanted to show me then I had to open as many doors that came across my pathway.
I imagined the moment my son had been filled with the Holy Spirit at 1 in the morning, 8 years earlier. After being addicted to cannabis for a year, Liam had coerced him into going to Medjugorje, using the carrot of the waterfalls, late night restaurants and pretty women.
It had worked to a degree, but Simon had been angry at what he figured was blatant deception on His best fiends part. In his planned rescue mission, Liam had not mentioned the pilgrims didn't drink alcohol excessively and all the beautiful girls were on fire for God, not Simon!
My son had tagged along nonchantaly with the group, trying to ignore all things Catholic. Jesus however penetrated his hardened evangelical heart by His Holy Spirit.
On his return Simon had excitedley shared with me the poignant moment he was sitting on a bench, begrudgingly waiting for Liam to say a quick prayer before Our Lady.
He started praying to Jesus asking Him to make him cry a tear for every tear he had made Jesus cry that past year. if it had been me, the square would have flooded.
Simon had burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably, then got up and literally ran to Cross Hill, about 1/4 mile away, leaping up in the dark like a gazelle jumping from rock to rock.
Liam had been fit and even he could not catch him up although Simon was overweight and didn't exercise at all. Simon only stopped when he knelt before the huge marble cross at the very top of this incredibly rugged and steep mountain. That was the moment of my sons conversion to Catholicism.
Fondly reflecting on his conversion, I had to pinch myself, here I was, standing in the exact spot I could only have imagined up til then. It was like travelling back in time as I pictured my precious son sitting crying to Jesus on one of the benches.
It was an overwhelming experience...I was here, finally, in Medjugorje, thank you Jesus. Thank you Aldina.
The 40 degree heat felt stifling, but nothing was going to detract from my impending adventure to discover what The Lord had in store for me.
I had heard horror stories about cliff edge roads from youngsters teasing me, but took comfort in the fact that hopefully God intended me to enjoy the week.
It was an air conditioned coach ride that passed swiftly, taking in breathtaking views of the white buildings with orange tiled roofs in The ancient city of Dubrovnik, the deep deep blue of the ocean, the beautiful mountains.. three hours spent chatting and getting to know my 'new family'.
Liam led us all in praying a rosary, just before we took off into the mountainous roads. It felt good to pray together and gave me a glimpse of what lie ahead.
I've known Liam since he was born, and was amazed how he had grown up serving The Lord in a charismatic way. At 27 he was very professional as he gave us a guided tour of the surrounding area as we crossed the border into Bosnia.
Liam and his two brothers have spent what feels like a lifetime mission to convert me to Catholicism. Over the years they have presented me with infinite amount of books such as 'Home sweet Rome' and 'Left to tell'....both of them powerful and hugely influential on my journey to conversion.
They had prayed fervently and talked endlessly about the Cathoiic Church - along with my son Simon. I always respected their faith and gradually realised my heart was slowly changing. I'm more than grateful to them all, and of course their mum, one of my longest standing best friends, for their huge part in my conversion.
Medjugorje seemed so small with tiny streets meandering through simple brick built houses, interspersed with small quaint shops selling all kinds of religious paraphanalia from candles to priceless paintings...it made a colourful image. It is called the town between the hills and indeed there are two huge hills surrounding this simple humble place.
The coach driver swung the coach around the roads swerving and dancing with the local drivers and taxis - I learnt just how small a space you can fit through! The local pedestrians appeared to be unphased by the traffic seemingly brushing the clothes they were wearing.
We turned into our guest house driveway and could not believe how big and beautiful it was. I had attempted to scan the Internet to have a preview but there were a only few simple photos, showing a couple of the bedrooms and lobby. Because it is not a resort hotel but a humble abode to comfortably house pilgrims there is no requisite to advertise.
The National Medjugorje Movement Blessed us with an opportunity to be staying in the home of one of the visionaries, Marije, that had been extended. I imagined a large three bed semi!
We unloaded from our coach back into the heat, a menagerie of people...still acquainting ourselves politely, introducing those who had not yet met. There was no hope of me remembering all the names...
Marije greeted us and unassumedly welcomed us warmly to her home. She worked quietly in the background all week, smiling. A humble servant of God. Her friend mad Maggie from Scotland was a bubbly lady with a broad accent, who helped look after us like a mother hen.
The whole team had servant hearts and were filled with Grace and Peace that you could feel as they blended into the very essence of this retreat house. Their genuine smiles were heartfelt, no matter what time of the day or night and nothing it seemed, was too much trouble.
We went up to our air conditioned room, three of us sharing. The young Italian lady from the plane, and a lovely polish girl were to be my close companions for the week. The room was ensuite with modern decor in cream and Browns, with natural stone tiles and wooden beams in the ceiling. The balcony door opened inward, revealing a decorative wrought iron railing to save you falling from the first floor.
I confessed to my roommatesthat I snored loudly, which they both politely dismissed. Three days later they were grateful for the earplugs others kindly donated.
The view from the room was magnificent overlooking Apparition Hill and the town centre about a mile away.
We had arrived late afternoon so they prepared lunch for us at 4. The food was delicious and the company good. Every meal was preceded by Grace. It felt good to be among Brothers and sisters in Christ.
After a quick rest we headed off to our first evening Mass. The youth festival was due to start the
following day so the huge crowds had not yet arrived.
The open air Church with a covered area - housing The Altar, space for a choir and a number of priests was stunning. It was surrounded by row upon row of park benches, most of them full, then lots of benches stretching back into the trees which afforded some shelter from the burning sun.
We all sat down, putting up our uv umbrellas if we had them to protect us from those late Rays. The singing from the choir was like soothing balm falling over your soul. We tuned our small radios into the respective frequency for a translation into our mother tongue.
The many trees were home to a zillion crickets which all started singing at exactly the same time, the noise they made as one was almost deafening if you tuned in to it. By day two it became part of the atmosphere and a wonderful picture of how, when there is only one, you can hardly hear the noise their legs made, but when en mass - the volume was intense
As the pilgrims continue to gather I imagined this is how the music would have sounded in Heaven, the multitude worshipping together. Beautiful image.
The mass was reverent and heavenly, interspersed with angelic choruses. I was impressed they managed to give communion to a few hundred people so easily...and then the next few days 40,000 received the body of Christ peacefully and effortlessly, Praise God.
It was a wonderful spirit filled beginning to the week, and afterwards I was drawn to the statue of Our Lady behind the Church. I confess I was stii a bit apprehensive of kneeling before a statue but followed the few that gathered round. If I was to gain fully what Jesus wanted to show me then I had to open as many doors that came across my pathway.
I imagined the moment my son had been filled with the Holy Spirit at 1 in the morning, 8 years earlier. After being addicted to cannabis for a year, Liam had coerced him into going to Medjugorje, using the carrot of the waterfalls, late night restaurants and pretty women.
It had worked to a degree, but Simon had been angry at what he figured was blatant deception on His best fiends part. In his planned rescue mission, Liam had not mentioned the pilgrims didn't drink alcohol excessively and all the beautiful girls were on fire for God, not Simon!
My son had tagged along nonchantaly with the group, trying to ignore all things Catholic. Jesus however penetrated his hardened evangelical heart by His Holy Spirit.
On his return Simon had excitedley shared with me the poignant moment he was sitting on a bench, begrudgingly waiting for Liam to say a quick prayer before Our Lady.
He started praying to Jesus asking Him to make him cry a tear for every tear he had made Jesus cry that past year. if it had been me, the square would have flooded.
Simon had burst into tears and sobbed uncontrollably, then got up and literally ran to Cross Hill, about 1/4 mile away, leaping up in the dark like a gazelle jumping from rock to rock.
Liam had been fit and even he could not catch him up although Simon was overweight and didn't exercise at all. Simon only stopped when he knelt before the huge marble cross at the very top of this incredibly rugged and steep mountain. That was the moment of my sons conversion to Catholicism.
Fondly reflecting on his conversion, I had to pinch myself, here I was, standing in the exact spot I could only have imagined up til then. It was like travelling back in time as I pictured my precious son sitting crying to Jesus on one of the benches.
It was an overwhelming experience...I was here, finally, in Medjugorje, thank you Jesus. Thank you Aldina.
Saturday, August 29, 2015
Youth Festival Medjugorie 2015
You must come, Sue, You must come...
Liam...I can't it's impossible...Pete has no orders in, we can't even pay the mortgage this month.
But you must...
Ok Liam I will pray about it, if God wants me to go I am sure He will make a way.
I was excited and full of anticipation as I sat down on the plane. No longer fearful of flying I couldn't wait for my adventure to begin.
I watched the other passengers taking their seats, wondering what bought them to Medjugorie in Bosnia...was it their first time to.
The 40 seats reserved en block were filling swiftly with every age, nation, size and shape...all wearing a beaming smile. This was reassuring.
Many hugged and greeted each other with genuine surprise, love and affection. It seems this was a Pilgramage repeated often. I.felt this would not be my last trip either...how many times would I return?
A beautiful young lady with a strong Italian accent smiled as I sat next to her. She introduced herself to me and then introduced me to the lovely gentleman in front of us who was also Italian.
I fastened my seatbelt as an older lady sat to my right. Bubbling away as she sorted herself out, I soon discovered this was her 25th ish time, and she had spent a Pilgramage a few years earlier with my eldest son. I felt at home immediately.
My anticipation grew...so many over the years had shared what an incredible place this small town in Medjugorie was...but I couldn't imagine what could be so special that pilgrims were returning year after year...looking at the photos it showed a Church, a few statues, and a cross on top of a very steep hill.
Liam, my best friends son, in his late twenties came down the aisle, smiling, greeting everyone on the way...I caught his eye and beamed. I WAS going to Medjugorie.
The plane hurtled down the runway, my favourite bit of flying, building up speed, tension mounting,
and off...off to an adventure of discovery....flying high, watching the landscape diminish, houses
reducing to tiny spots dotted around, huge lakes reducing to puddle size.
I marvelled as always at the fluffy White clouds, I'm a total sky freak, I feel it is God's canvas showing His beauty and power in the Heavens.
Excitedly I replied to Maureen....
Well I've only been a Catholic for 18 months...before that an evangelical for 27 years ...recently I was struggling..missing the happy clappy services, the wonderful hugs and smiles as you walk in to the meetings, the Praise and Worship bringing The Holy Spirit, to fill you and strengthen you to go out into the world and The sometimes amusing but always enlightening sermons...to help us on our way,living as we should in a world full of temptations.
Although I love my new family to, it is much more reserved on a Sunday morning...then Liam called just a few weeks ago to ask me to come on this Pilgrimage.
There was no way I could so I declined gracefully and told him I would pray about it.
I was already praying about being a Catholic, maybe I had misheard God after all, so added in the prayers about the Youth Festival (53 is youth, yes?)
Three days later Liam messaged me...he had been invited to give a talk on the Pilgramages to Bosnia, as his company organised them very well, and pilgrims returned again and again as they loved Liam's charismatic character and organisational skills.
It was one of his regular pilgrims that had arranged the meeting and invited Liam along to speak.
He felt led to share his testimony, my son Simons testimony and then how My sons conversion to Catholicism had led to mine. Then he explained how I had always had a burning desire to go myself but could not afford to go.
Incredibly at the end a most generous lady, approached Liam and said she wanted to pay for my ticket .
Liam didn't know this amazing soul, and she had no idea who I was. The Lord undoubtedly placed on her heart to be so selfless and obedient to His call.
I had no idea that Liam was speaking that day and I was overwhelmed with incredible joy.
How humbling that not only did Jesus answer my prayers so swiftly and clearly...yes you can and will be going to Medjugorie, but it also ticked the box...yes you did hear me right, you are meant to be a Catholic.
Liam...I can't it's impossible...Pete has no orders in, we can't even pay the mortgage this month.
But you must...
Ok Liam I will pray about it, if God wants me to go I am sure He will make a way.
I was excited and full of anticipation as I sat down on the plane. No longer fearful of flying I couldn't wait for my adventure to begin.
I watched the other passengers taking their seats, wondering what bought them to Medjugorie in Bosnia...was it their first time to.
The 40 seats reserved en block were filling swiftly with every age, nation, size and shape...all wearing a beaming smile. This was reassuring.
Many hugged and greeted each other with genuine surprise, love and affection. It seems this was a Pilgramage repeated often. I.felt this would not be my last trip either...how many times would I return?
A beautiful young lady with a strong Italian accent smiled as I sat next to her. She introduced herself to me and then introduced me to the lovely gentleman in front of us who was also Italian.
I fastened my seatbelt as an older lady sat to my right. Bubbling away as she sorted herself out, I soon discovered this was her 25th ish time, and she had spent a Pilgramage a few years earlier with my eldest son. I felt at home immediately.
My anticipation grew...so many over the years had shared what an incredible place this small town in Medjugorie was...but I couldn't imagine what could be so special that pilgrims were returning year after year...looking at the photos it showed a Church, a few statues, and a cross on top of a very steep hill.
Liam, my best friends son, in his late twenties came down the aisle, smiling, greeting everyone on the way...I caught his eye and beamed. I WAS going to Medjugorie.
The plane hurtled down the runway, my favourite bit of flying, building up speed, tension mounting,
and off...off to an adventure of discovery....flying high, watching the landscape diminish, houses
reducing to tiny spots dotted around, huge lakes reducing to puddle size.
I marvelled as always at the fluffy White clouds, I'm a total sky freak, I feel it is God's canvas showing His beauty and power in the Heavens.
Excitedly I replied to Maureen....
Well I've only been a Catholic for 18 months...before that an evangelical for 27 years ...recently I was struggling..missing the happy clappy services, the wonderful hugs and smiles as you walk in to the meetings, the Praise and Worship bringing The Holy Spirit, to fill you and strengthen you to go out into the world and The sometimes amusing but always enlightening sermons...to help us on our way,living as we should in a world full of temptations.
Although I love my new family to, it is much more reserved on a Sunday morning...then Liam called just a few weeks ago to ask me to come on this Pilgrimage.
There was no way I could so I declined gracefully and told him I would pray about it.
I was already praying about being a Catholic, maybe I had misheard God after all, so added in the prayers about the Youth Festival (53 is youth, yes?)
Three days later Liam messaged me...he had been invited to give a talk on the Pilgramages to Bosnia, as his company organised them very well, and pilgrims returned again and again as they loved Liam's charismatic character and organisational skills.
It was one of his regular pilgrims that had arranged the meeting and invited Liam along to speak.
He felt led to share his testimony, my son Simons testimony and then how My sons conversion to Catholicism had led to mine. Then he explained how I had always had a burning desire to go myself but could not afford to go.
Incredibly at the end a most generous lady, approached Liam and said she wanted to pay for my ticket .
Liam didn't know this amazing soul, and she had no idea who I was. The Lord undoubtedly placed on her heart to be so selfless and obedient to His call.
I had no idea that Liam was speaking that day and I was overwhelmed with incredible joy.
How humbling that not only did Jesus answer my prayers so swiftly and clearly...yes you can and will be going to Medjugorie, but it also ticked the box...yes you did hear me right, you are meant to be a Catholic.
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