Flo and Tom
1992 was a year I will never forget. In March, my wife, Flo, and I moved to Florida; in August, we purchased our home; in October, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
The following March, I was hired by a Fortune 500 company, a fortunate circumstance since the company’s health insurance benefits covered me from day one, without a pre-existing condition exclusion.
As time passed, I began to have difficulty performing even the basic tasks of my job. My memory began to fail. Tasks that were repeated many times a day began to require referring to procedure manuals each time.
My physical condition was also declining. At first, I needed a cane. Then, as my production started to slide, I began to require the use of an electric wheelchair to go any distance—from the parking lot to my desk, to the bathroom, to lunch, whatever. A manual wheelchair was out of the question because my arms were becoming too weak. For awhile, I would transfer from the wheelchair to a chair at my desk; eventually, I just remained in the wheelchair. Finally, I had to make a choice: try to keep on going and get fired for poor performance, or go on disability. I chose the latter. In September of 1995, my working life ended. I was 37 years old.
I was born and raised Lutheran and converted to Catholicism in Dec of ’97. My greatest anxiety has been confession. I was always afraid that I would do it wrong and I could not memorize the “Act of Contrition”. So, I seldom went.
Tom, Abbey and a friend
Prior to attending Pilgrims’ Peace Center’s conference this past November, I had made crib notes and resolved to explain to the priest why I was going to use them. During one of the breaks, I saw Father Mario go to the Adoration Chapel in the Church. I decided that this was a chance to make my confession. So much worry was wasted. I left Father Mario feeling much better.
While I had attended this conference in the past, this was the first without any of the Medjugorje visionaries being present. During the Conference, however, we were given the opportunity to surrender our lives to Christ. Flo and I embraced this blessing without reservation, and received the Fr. Sudac Cross.
At the end of the Conference, Mike (Tobin) announced that there would be healing sessions with Fr. Joe Amalfitano in the Blessed Sacrament chapel. As we headed toward the chapel, we were approached by a woman attendee. She told us, very specifically, to ask to be healed and to request that Fr. Joe use the (Saint Pio) relic.
The line for Fr. Joe extended from the front of the Chapel, well into the lobby. After entering the Chapel, the other chair-bound and I were at a loss as to our next move. With all those wishing to be blessed by Fr. Joe in line ahead of us, we felt conflicted. There simply was not enough room for us to bypass the line, as Mike had suggested. Besides, I always feel very self conscious about receiving any special treatment. So, after a short discussion with the small group, I did what I rarely ever do: I made a decision: I went down through the exit lane to the front of the Chapel and bypassed the entire line. I looked across to the next person in line, she motioned for me to go next and I drove my chair to Fr. Joe.
Whenever I have gone to previous healing Masses, I just bowed my head and let them do their thing—kind of a passive attitude. This time was different. Fr. Joe asked what I wanted and I told him: “To be healed”.
“What do you have?” he asked.
I told him “MS” and requested the use of the relic. He placed the relic in his hand and then put it on my forehead. He prayed for a few moments and blessed me with Holy Oil. Then he said, “The next time you receive Our Lord in Holy Communion, say the ‘Father Joe Prayer.’ And don’t be afraid to nag! Keep praying and asking for healing.” I said I would, I thanked him, and we were done.
There were no celestial choirs, or emotional fireworks, but I did feel lighter. I can’t explain it any better than that. A lifting of my burden, perhaps? At that time I thought it may have been just a spiritual healing, but we would go to Mass the next day and do as we had been instructed.
We left the Conference and drove home — Flo, Abbey, my service dog, and me. By the time we reached home, I was not just tired but exhausted—so much so that I was unable to summon the strength to attend Mass the next day.
It wasn’t until Saturday, November 20, that we went to our next Mass. We received the Eucharist, said the prayer and waited. I didn’t feel anything so I said the prayer again, and again. I kept hoping all day. I would say short prayers asking for healing but it seemed to no avail.
Tom after his healing
The following morning, I woke up and reached for my crutches to get out of bed. As usual, I positioned my self to go through the effort of standing up. Basically, I had to “launch” myself to my feet using just my arms and hoping I didn’t overbalance and pitch over the other way. This time, I left the ground.
I thought to myself that I had either become much stronger or much lighter. As I was standing there, pondering this conundrum, a third possibility entered my mind. So I thought I would experiment. I tried to lift my right foot, and I did. Not only did I raise my foot from the floor, my knee even bent.
Hoping this was a trend, I raised my left foot and my left knee bent as well. Taking a leap of faith, I took my first normal step in 10 years. Then another, and another. I suddenly realized that I was not using the crutches; I was carrying them!
Disbelief, Elation! Surprise! All of my emotions were tumbling around in my head. I didn’t know what to do or think. I offered up my thanks to God, and took a few breaths.
Then I went to show my wife. I said “Look what I can do!” I raised and lowered my right leg and then my left. Then I set the crutches to the side and WALKED! I took three steps, turned and walked back. Yes, there were tears of joy, prayers of thanks, and we were down right giddy!
On Tuesday the 23 of November, I met with my neurologist for my semi-annual checkup. While my legs were now functioning as they were intended, after ten years of atrophy and only three days of use, I was still shy in the endurance department. So I needed my chair to go from the parking lot to his office. I also wanted to surprise him since he has been seeing me for most of my MS career. He had witnessed the continuous decline in my condition, from walking into his office, to the cane, to the crutches, to the chair.
Once in the exam room, I said, “Thanksgiving came a few days early this year!” I stood up and walked, jumped and turned around. I even stood on one leg!
He was elated, excited and couldn’t write his notes fast enough. When I explained that this was Divine Intervention, he accepted this as a rational explanation. He told me that there really wasn’t much else that would explain this kind of improvement after so long. He said I should accept it and go with it.
He also advised me to keep this close to the vest for awhile because of the practical implications, namely, disability income benefits. From the secular side of the matter, being a man of science, he advised me that this may not be a permanent state and I might regress causing all sorts of government, bureaucratic nightmares. He advised me to wait six months before deciding anything.
We then decided to notify Fr. Joe. We called Pilgrims’ Peace Center and, after sharing the story with Sandy, I spoke with Father Joe and gave him the wonderful news.
We also went to see Fr. Mario who was in a parish only 45 minutes from our home. When we showed him that I could walk unaided, he was very pleased and excited. We asked for spiritual guidance and explained that, while we were very thankful to God for this gift and wanted to shout it from the mountain tops, we were unsure as to what to do next. Since it was so short a time he advised that we wait and pray on it and the answer would become apparent.
Every day I find that old habits die hard. I still find myself reaching for my unnecessary crutches. Then I smile and offer a prayer of thanks.
It seems that the lessons I have learned so far are the essential importance of the Eucharist, confession, faith, hope, persistence, patience, prayer and being specific. It wasn’t until all of these elements were in place that I walked again.
As far as my service dog is concerned, Abbey has been such a help and companion to me for all of her 7 years, I will not cast her aside. She has been, and always will be, a cherished member of the family.
FATHER JOE’S PRAYER
Whenever Father Joe prays over someone for healing, he always gives the following instruction: “Immediately after you receive Our Lord in Holy Communion, say the following prayer:”
Lord,
Let your Precious Body and Blood mix with mine,
And travel through my body,
Healing all my fears, all my illnesses,
And fill me with your peace.
Let Your Precious Body and Blood mix with mine,
And flow throughout my being.
Make me into all You would have me be,
That I might love like You. Amen.