I Am Your Father, Too
Chaste Heart of Joseph by Artist Michael Corsini.
Used with permission.
A few years ago, the superior of my religious community’s male branch celebrated Mass in our private chapel in Italy and gave a powerful homily on St. Joseph. However, it was a simple suggestion that struck my heart the most, setting me on an incredibly tender journey with the husband of Mary and foster father of Jesus. That suggestion was this: If you do not have a devotion to St. Joseph yet, then you should pray for one. I realized that I really did not have a devotion or any kind of relationship with him at all. It never crossed my mind to pray for the grace to love the hidden saint, but that day I did. And that prayer was answered.
Little by little, sincere affection did grow. I found myself conversing with St. Joseph with more familiarity and, together with the rest of my community, I faithfully completed the 33-day preparation for my very first consecration to him (according to Fr. Donald Calloway’s book, which I highly recommend). In the meantime, I had also been learning about the Chaste Heart of St. Joseph and felt strongly inspired to change the title of my religious name from “of the Two Hearts of Jesus and Mary” to “of the Three Hearts of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” But for some reason, it took me months before finally asking permission from my Mother Superior, who granted it immediately. Now all I had to do was privately go before the Blessed Sacrament (cf CCC 1330) and renew my perpetual vows with my new title to make it official. Couldn’t get any simpler, right? Again, for some strange reason unknown to me at the time, I just never got around to actually doing it.
Another several months passed, during which I spent quite a bit of time in the United States helping to take care of my dying father. Exactly one month to the day after his passing, I was back at my convent (in Italy), sitting before the tabernacle in our private chapel and waiting for Mass to begin. My heart was in turmoil, still grieving my beloved dad, struggling with the guilt and regrets that often follow the death of a loved one, and trying to adjust again to the rhythm of community life. I felt tired and unable to pray when Mother quickly approached and whispered, “By the way, we all renewed our vows together when you were gone. You may want to renew yours at Holy Communion.” I secretly did not want to. My mind was not in the right place and I felt totally empty and unprepared. But I obeyed, rushed to get my final vow formula, and spent most of the Mass in the midst of an interior battle.
Finally, at Communion time, when the priest approached and held Our Lord before me, I suddenly realized that this was it. I would not only be renewing my marriage commitment to Jesus, but I would be doing so for the first time with St. Joseph’s Most Chaste Heart as part of my religious name and as part of my identity as a spouse of Christ. In that same instant, I very powerfully felt the protective presence of St. Joseph standing right next to me as I knelt. He seemed to gently whisper to my heart, “You know, I’m your father too.” Immediately, the flood gates opened and tears of release flowed down my face – tears of peace and joy together with those of comfort in my sorrow. After barely making it through the profession, my vows were once again consummated as I received the Most Precious Body and Blood of my Jesus.
I not only received the grace of devotion to St. Joseph that I prayed for, but so much more. I now knew with certainty that I was his daughter and his paternity became so very real – his patience in waiting and silence in listening, his tender compassion and strong protection. But most of all, I felt his faithful and sturdy love.
So why am I telling you this story? When reflecting on that moment five years later, on the anniversary of my dad’s death, I realized with a light of grace how critical that day was to my healing journey. In fact, it was the beginning in so many ways.
You see, my father left home when I was only four years old. Though I do not have many memories from that age, I do remember very clearly the moment when he broke the news to me and my older sister that he would be moving out. I remember fighting back an overwhelming wave of tears, crossing my arms tightly over my chest and closing myself off in anger…declaring that I did not care. And that is what I convinced myself for many years. Though my father remained always in our lives and loved us the best he could – a gift for which I will always be grateful – my parents’ divorce and the circumstances that followed left a deep wound in my heart that did not really start to manifest itself until I entered the religious life.
For a long time, I tried with all my might to be the “perfect” nun…striving to do everything right on the outside while on the inside I was falling apart. Every day was a battle against loneliness, guilt, insecurity, anxiety, depression, and anger. I thought practicing virtue meant doing my best to hide my brokenness from the other sisters. And when, of course, I would inevitably fail, shame set in and whispered the lie that something was fundamentally wrong with me. So many insidious accusations spun around in my mind: You have the perfect Husband, so why are you still such a mess? How could so many hours of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament not be enough to “fix” you? Nothing will ever make you good and holy and worthy of love. You will never be enough. I felt like a complete and utter disappointment to God, hopeless that I would ever be able to change.
Though I hid, self-protected and continued to wear the masks that I thought gave me some value, Jesus never stopped seeking the real me underneath. He never abandoned me. All the while, He was patiently working on me, preparing my very calloused and guarded heart to be broken again through the second loss of my dad. But this break would be healing and redemptive, because it would finally let Love Himself enter in. And He came in through another father, His father and now mine – Good St. Joseph. I truly believe everything started with my simple prayer after that providential homily. St. Joseph became the guardian of my healing journey and continues to be my strong and faithful pillar along the way, in both explicit and sometimes hidden ways.
First and foremost, St. Joseph has taught me that he is trustworthy. Just as he led Mary and Jesus to Bethlehem, then Egypt and back again to Nazareth safely, so I could also give him free range over my spiritual life, knowing that he would only guide me where God wanted. Not long after declaring himself my father, St. Joseph found me a wonderful spiritual director – a Benedictine monk who has taught me what real prayer is. He instilled in me the absolute necessity of opening up everything to the Lord without fear and has untwist my skewed image of the Eternal Father through his own loving presence in my life…as all good spiritual fathers should. I also believe St. Joseph was behind my almost accidental discovery of Life-Giving Wounds and Restored ministries for adult children of divorce, which opened my eyes to the very real effects my family’s brokenness has had on my life and set me on a path of restoration. I had never made the connection between the divorce and my own personal struggles before!
St. Joseph, the Terror of Demons, has made me more aware of the real spiritual battle that surrounds us all, showing me how the devil can enter right in through my wounds and through the fears and lies that I have internalized as a result of them. Through Ignatian discernment of spirits and ministries like Unbound and the John Paul II Healing Center, I have begun to learn the art of distinguishing the voice of God from the voice of the evil one and the voice of my inner critic. Repenting, renouncing and forgiving in the name of Jesus Christ has brought me a greater freedom than I ever thought possible. I never realized just how much my head was filled with a constant flow of critical, discouraging thoughts that I believed were the truth. But by closing the doors of our wounds to the enemy with an act of our will, we give Christ sole access to transform them into glory. How much sweeter and lighter life is when we allow the encouraging whisper of the Holy Spirit to be the soundtrack of our minds!
Sleeping St. Joseph, the Mirror of Patience, has taught me to rest and wait on the word of the Lord in silence and peace. Coming from broken homes, we often develop the not-so-healthy skills of control and perfectionism, subconsciously believing it is our job to make sure things do not fall apart again. But little by little, Joseph Most Courageous is showing me what true courage is — total and trusting surrender to the Divine Will, even in the most difficult and uncertain of circumstances. He knew God’s power and love did not need exterior perfection in order to operate. How else could St. Joseph have accepted a poor stable in Bethlehem, exile into pagan Egypt, and the poverty of Nazareth for his Immaculate Spouse (cf CCC 490) and Divine Son? The Lord’s most powerful works usually come wrapped in far from neat-looking packages. What a consoling truth for our own lives and families, as well!
As Head of the Holy Family, it was Joseph who led me into Nazareth through meditative prayer. He invited me to experience what it is like to live in the healthiest of intact families. The perfect love of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph began to cast out my profound fears of rejection and abandonment. Always struggling with a sense of belonging, I finally found a place where I completely fit in just the way I am. In the safety and security of the Holy Family, I could let my guard down and allow myself to be loved and protected. When I would curl up next to St. Joseph, under his warm mantle, I did not have to worry about making anyone jealous or playing it even-Steven. Jesus and Mary delighted that I took refuge in the same strong arms that They did. I did not have to people-please or fix or manage or navigate or play any kind of role either. I could just be their beloved daughter. I could just be me.
In fact, St. Joseph was my bridge to God, the Father. I never really had a relationship with the Eternal Father. There was always a distance, a kind of anxiety or scrupulosity when approaching Him…which naturally extended itself to my relationship with Jesus, as well. I believe it stemmed from a deep-rooted fear that if I was not perfect, God just might divorce me or leave me too. My two hours of daily, silent prayer before the Blessed Sacrament were a great effort for me. If I were honest, I preferred to work like Martha in Luke 10 – to do the exterior things that I could control and hide behind – in contrast to Mary, who chose the better part of being present with the Lord. Prayer became more of a performance than an encounter with my Beloved. I thought, did, and said whatever I believed would make God pleased with me, whatever would keep Him from rejecting me. Everything else I suppressed.
But the day I renewed my vows, Jesus sent St. Joseph, Lover of Poverty, to love me in my deepest poverty, teaching me that I don’t have to be perfect, I don’t have to have it all together in order to be loved. In fact, my littleness was the most attractive wedding garment I could wear. Experiencing the faithful saint’s paternity allowed me to trust more and more in my Heavenly Father’s divine paternity, as well. He’s now my Daddy, who delights in me and on whose lap I can climb whenever I want. I can run to Him and rely on Him in any situation, for I know He will never forsake or replace me. And knowing that His Son never will either, I have been able to enter into much greater intimacy and vulnerability with my Bridegroom, Jesus, as well. My daily Holy Hours are now, by far, my two favorite parts of every day.
Through the permission of my very supportive Mother Superior, the Lord allowed me to be at my dad’s side the last two months of his life, until the very end. There were many miracles of grace and many moments of healing for both of us. We prayed together, talked together, laughed together, and suffered together. And when the two of us were alone waiting for a CAT scan, my dad, with almost supernatural tenderness, asked my forgiveness. He also asked me to apologize to my mom for him. He did not need to say why. In his eyes I could see his regret, his sorrow, and that he truly just wanted her to be happy. I could tell that, despite the many years that had passed since their divorce and everything that transpired in between, my father never did stop loving my mother. Though the perfectionist in me would have loved my parents to reconcile face to face, my sister reminded me just what an enormous grace that was for us all.
When I had received the call from my sister that my father was dying, I took a red-eye flight from Italy and landed in New York on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. He passed away in early February and we buried him on the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes. Our Blessed Mother was instrumental in my dad’s conversion years earlier and She never let him go. And though he remained quite hidden at the time, I now know St. Joseph – Patron of the Dying – was there every minute, powerfully interceding as well. My father took his last breath wearing the brown scapular and surrounded by his mother, sister, and two daughters. He had gone to confession and received the Last Rites several times over those couple of months in the hospital. His number one request from me every day was finding a priest to bring him Holy Communion.
What seemed like an end was really just a beginning. Many times throughout this process of healing, as more layers of my own brokenness began to surface, I have felt guilty revisiting the wounds my father’s mistakes have caused me. He was a great dad in many, many ways, so focusing on his shortcomings seemed like a betrayal somehow. It felt like I was dishonoring his memory. However, through much prayer and continually bringing this concern to the Lord, I have come to realize that healing is not about assigning blame but, rather, opening up the pain that I had buried for almost forty years to Jesus’ own pierced and compassionate Heart. Also, Heaven does not think the way we do. In fact, the more I continue along this journey, the more I feel my father’s intercession. Together with St. Joseph, I believe he is encouraging me and ardently desires deeper healing for his little girl. He is now immersed in Christ’s merciful love and can clearly see God’s power to transform our crooked lines into a glorious masterpiece. And in the great mystery of the communion of saints, I know my dad is helping to create that beautiful work of art in both of his daughters’ lives. Death does not close the door to the possibility of real healing and reconciliation with our parents and loved ones. It only opens it wider!
These past five years certainly have not been easy, but I can look back now and feel nothing but gratitude: gratitude for my father’s weaknesses and failures, because the gaps he left made me hunger and thirst for a perfect love that only my Heavenly Father could satisfy. Without my wounds, who knows if I would ever have begun a search for deeper closeness with Him. And I would not trade the relationship I enjoy with the Lord now for anything in the world! Gratitude for all the many ways in which my dad did reveal God’s loving fatherhood to me. Reflecting in prayer on our beautiful memories together have also brought me much healing. Gratitude for his holy death. Gratitude that I am on this journey. Gratitude for the freedom, joy and peace I’ve been experiencing so far...and for what is still yet to come. Gratitude for a heart that has been broken open, softened, and rendered more capable of real love. Gratitude for Christ’s redemption and the power of His Cross! And gratitude for the gift of St. Joseph - Comfort of the Afflicted - when I needed him the most.
This is my story…part of it, anyway. It is, of course, far from over. There are still consequences to my parents’ divorce that I continue to face. My heart is still in need of much conversion, purification, and healing. Every day, the Lord calls me to greater love, greater freedom, and greater surrender to His Will. I still fall and fail and have so much to learn. But that is ok, because I do not have to do any of this perfectly and I am not meant to do it alone. My path ahead is full of hope and love. Whatever your story may involve, wherever you may be on the journey, I pray that you may come to know Good St. Joseph as your father, too. He will not let you down! And all it takes is simply asking for the grace.
Intercessory Prayer:
Prayer to Saint Joseph by Pope Leo XIII
To thee, O blessed Joseph, we have recourse in our affliction, and having implored the help of thy thrice holy Spouse, we now, with hearts filled with confidence, earnestly beg thee also to take us under thy protection. By that charity wherewith thou wert united to the Immaculate Virgin Mother of God, and by that fatherly love with which thou didst cherish the Child Jesus, we beseech thee and we humbly pray that thou wilt look down with gracious eye upon that inheritance which Jesus Christ purchased by His blood, and wilt succor us in our need by thy power and strength.
Defend, O most watchful guardian of the Holy Family, the chosen off-spring of Jesus Christ. Keep from us, O most loving Father, all blight of error and corruption. Aid us from on high, most valiant defender, in this conflict with the powers of darkness. And even as of old thou didst rescue the Child Jesus from the peril of His life, so now defend God's Holy Church from the snares of the enemy and from all adversity. Shield us ever under thy patronage, that, following thine example and strengthened by thy help, we may live a holy life, die a happy death, and attain to everlasting bliss in Heaven. Amen.
(This prayer can be found online here.)
About the author:
Sister M. Francesca of the Three Hearts of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph has been a contemplative nun for the past thirteen years. Though born and raised in the Bronx, she has been living in Italy with her community since entering the religious life and never gets tired of God’s glorious creation that surrounds her. Sister loves to read, go for long walks in the mountains, teach catechism, and have deep heart-to-heart conversations. But her favorite moments of the day are spent before her Spouse in the Most Blessed Sacrament, where she finds the perfect love she has always been looking for.
Reflection Questions for Small Groups or Individuals
1. What stood out or spoke to your heart when reading this testimony? What could you relate to?
2. What is your prayer life like? Do you make time consistently every day to be alone and in silence with God? If not, what might be holding you back?
3. How honest and vulnerable are you with the Lord? Which areas of your life and heart do you still hide from Him?
4. What false images of the Eternal Father, of Jesus, or of Mary have you developed as a result of your parents’ divorce?
5. What blocks have you encountered on your healing journey that keep you from moving forward?
6. What would it mean for you to accept St. Joseph as your father? How do you think he can help you to grow and heal?