Divine Mercy: He Works!

I know most of us are absolutely smitten with Britain's newest Royal Princess, however, it is time to switch gears on my blog.

I had a dermatology appointment this morning.  As you may or may not know, I had melanoma in-situ in 2007, which left a three-inch scar on the back of my right thigh.  I'll always be grateful that my husband noticed it and kept pestering me (for yonks! - when he got back from his year tour in Diego Garcia, back in 2001 - so yes, it was ages I put off going in about it) to go see a doctor.  I'm so thankful it was in-situ, therefore, localized and had not spread to my lymph nodes and/or other organs.

I am supposed to be screened annually.  Do you think I ever have?  No, of course not, because I am a blittering eejit, first class and certified!  No, I have not, because life has a funny way of shelving things that we seem to either not want to appear to worry about or that we just missed a bad thing by a hare and ignore the rest.  I was in the later group for a long while.  I did get a screening before moving here in 2009 so it isn't like I have totally goofed it.  However, I was not playing by the rules of safety.

So.  I went to my appointment with my tail (yes, didn't you know I'm a hybrid of some kind of dog?) tucked between my legs . . . ashamed to be honest about my lack of concern.  I was honest.  I laid it all out there.

I was so nervous my stomach was gurgling and my intestines were twisting to the point I was cold sweating.

I'll back up a bit here and "plug" the Divine Mercy Chaplet.  I've been praying it daily since my friend, Dawn, let me know she was pregnant with Christopher (he arrived March 18, btw).  I am praying the DM Novena this week, because, PRAISE GOD!, Pope John Paul II will be declared Blessed on Divine Mercy Sunday (this Sunday).  I want to be a part of this great happening!  I am a huge believer in the graces given via Divine Mercy.

So, wrapped in nothing but a thin cotton exam cloth, I'm stewing in my nerves and I start asking God to help me so I don't unload my innards in the clinic.  I was seriously getting close to putting my clothes back on and rushing for the nearest toilet, I was that fussy.  This is the prayer that came to me, totally inspired by Divine Mercy:

"Jesus, I trust in You.  I trust you with my whole body.  I trust you with my heart.  I trust you with my bowels.  I trust you with my stomach.  I trust you with my mind.  I trust you with my thoughts.  I trust you with my words.  I trust you with my works.  I trust you with my hands and feet.  I trust you with my very being.  I trust you, Jesus, with my husband and our marriage.  I trust you with our children:  Connor, Rachel, and Christian.  I trust you with our respective families and friends.  I trust you, Jesus, with the world.  I trust you with the weather.  I trust you with the Sun, Moon and stars.  I trust you with all that you have created.  I trust you, Jesus, with this very moment.  I trust you with who I was.  I trust you with who I am.  I trust you with who you want me to become.  Jesus, I trust you with your Church and Our Faith.  I trust you with our leaders.  I trust you in your Mother, Mary, and all the angels and Saints.  By Your Grace and with the help of Your Mother, grant that I may trust You more and more each and every moment.  Stay near me, Jesus, and help me to trust you even when I say that I do and there's that small doubt that I may fail in trusting you.  Amen."

My cramps instantly were gone.  I was filled with His peace.

That's no small feat, in my book.