Three years into my retirement I felt the need to explore my spirituality. I had never really been interested in pilgrimages as I feared the intensity of it – the non-stop prayers, attending multiple masses daily, being lectured to on religion, visiting church after church. Or so I envisioned it to be. I also feared not being touched. Touched in the sense of not receiving the graces so many had received on their own journey.

But more and more, my friends were talking about their personal experiences, always with wonder and excitement. I began to listen. To put my hesitation aside and open my heart and mind to the possibilities. During my many previous travels I had visited Fatima in Portugal in my early twenties but purely as a place to see with no real interest in the appearance of the Blessed Virgin Mary to the young children. There was once a pilgrimage movement to Betania in Venezuela but I was never so inclined to visit. I guess I just wasn’t ready.

Medugorje however, had always intrigued me. A similar story of the Blessed Virgin Mary appearing to the little children but somehow it felt different. Maybe because it was happening in my lifetime, but I wanted to give it a try. One year in the making, with many questions asked of those who had already visited, books being read and my many must-haves and mustn’t-haves in place, I set out with close friends. Clearing my mind, I went with no expectations whatsoever.

We had joined a tour group which fit my requirements. Engaging all the right touch points, sharing enough information to pique your interest, offering enough free time to wonder on my own, affording the opportunity at all times to be as engaged as you decided to be. Initially I took on the role of spectator. Watching, listening, going through the motions. Opening my mind and my heart to whatever.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long to get into the groove and to move from spectator to full-fledged pilgrim. I soon began to feel happy, honoured, excited, to be referred to as a pilgrim. To experience what it truly meant to witness and be part of a community with such a strong faith. Where, in Medugorje, their daily life reflects their belief in a God who loves them. A life steeped in the tradition of worshipping the Risen Lord and paying homage to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Where daily mass is a lifestyle. Where honouring the apparitions by re-living the experience of the young children many years ago is part and parcel of who you are. Where doctrines of prayer are passed down from generation to generation without resistance. A small community living their faith. A small community with no crime.

We visited the Blue Cross where the Virgin Mary warned the children of the impending danger of the ‘blue angels’ (police) who were looking for them. Climbed Apparition Hill where the Blessed Virgin Mary first appeared to the children, stopping at the Wooden Cross erected in honour of the Virgin’s message of peace to Mirjana –

“Peace peace peace only peace. There must be peace. Between God and man and Between man and mankind.”

We set off early one morning to climb Cross Mountain stopping to pray the Stations of the Cross along the way. While it was physically challenging, it has left a lasting impression in my heart.

And even though I was initially hesitant to participate in daily mass and prayer, it was a natural progression to be a willing participant. Our Sunday mass was officiated by our tour group’s priest in an outdoor setting which exuded peace – a cosy forum accessed by a stoney path surrounded by trees giving it an ethereal atmosphere.

Indeed Medugorje has been aptly described as a “very special place where heaven touched the earth”.

I prayed for my children and grandchildren, for my family and friends. I offered up petitions for those in need. I prayed for myself. That I can be so filled with awe for the Risen Lord and love of the Blessed Virgin Mary, that I may reflect, if only faintly, their love. Be responsible if only in my own little bubble for the transference of peace. To try as I might, understand how to live a life that is pleasing to God.

As Mother Elvira, founder of the Cenacolo Community in 1983 to provide hope and healing to those suffering from addiction said –

“We are not born just to finish our lives here, we are born to walk towards Heaven.”