After the death of my husband and handing over the practice to his successors, I tried to give my life a new meaning. I began to take theology. After one year, after the first exam, I had to drop out. A serious illness caused by an infected syringe changed my life completely. Now there began an odyssey that I can hardly describe in words. Hospital stays, operations in different clinics, all the art of doctors could not bring any relief. Medicines caused severe shocks. The hospital-acquired germ could not be captured by any means. After the operations, other problematic germs were detected in the area of infection. The germs spread and were transported into the whole body through the blood. Massive lymphatic swellings were the result. All organs were affected. The pain was almost unbearable. A fire was burning in my hip, spreading further and further. I felt the decay of my body. I was getting weaker and weaker. I myself fought with all my power, as far as I could, against this disease that to me seemed to be pointless; after all, I had a completely different plan for my life. In addition, there were further difficulties. Who was going to pay for the continuous costs? Who was to bear the blame? Was it the doctor who didn't use a disposable syringe or was it the doctor who punctured an internally encapsulated suppurative focus several times, thus spreading the germs in the tissue? Was there a legal entitlement for me? Questionnaires and letters had to be answered. Medical expertises worked against me. I was involved in a material fight without my will. Everything exceeded my physical and psychological strength. During this time I took part in a pilgrimage to Lourdes. I felt the grace that was given to me here. Here I could leave behind everything that burdened my psyche. This was also the beginning of my physical healing, even though the illness was to last for more than seven years. I left the place of grace with deep inner peace. I was able to forgive and renounced all personal claims. With this peace, I continued on my way. Measures to fight the germs followed again, again in-patient stays, again an operation. There was only one medicine left that could have helped from a laboratory point of view. But this drug could not be used because my body reacted allergically. All medical options were exhausted. Even a prescribed stay at the Dead Sea in Israel was unsuccessful. The difficult situation I was in was not concealed to me by the doctors. "You can't stop death", one doctor literally told me. I myself felt that I was losing the fight against the bacteria more and more. I felt my strength dwindling from year to year. I felt abandoned by the world. Through all those years, there was only one source for me to drink from, which gave me strength and support. That was my church, my faith, my God. I could only bear all the pain and suffering with Jesus. With Him I walked on this difficult path. Only with Him could I forgive. With Him I spent sleepless nights in prayer. With Him I cried my heart out.
Due to my illness, I now met more and more people who had abilities and powers that I had heard about but could never really classify. It was like a school where I was supposed to learn. People with clairvoyant abilities tried to see the future for me; others tried to make the pendulum look positive to me. I became friends with people who practised Reiki; I was told about Yoga experiences. I met people who believed they were the reincarnation of a significant personality. Large posters offered esoteric hypnosis. Posters invited people to esoteric days, esoteric fairs. Esotericism was a foreign word to me at that time. Where should I put all this? I did not know. Then I came into contact with spiritual healers; but only one of them was of any significance to me. This man called himself "King" of the healers. He had mastered everything that could be understood by the term "magic". At that time I had no experience of New Age practices and alternative treatments. I agreed to meet him on the advice of relatives. I did not know what to expect. At the very first meeting he immediately recognised my physical, incurable suffering, but at the same time my spiritual strength and mental health. Despite my "mental health", he now tried to heal my spirit so that the physical healing could follow. How did this alleged spiritual healing work? Pope, church, priests, sacraments, my morals, were ridiculed, insulted and denigrated. We had tough discussions. The healer was sweating, raging and shouting, "I have had sleepless nights since I met you". "You have a spirit in you, which I can’t master". He also tried to transmit powers to me with his hands that would bring relief and possibly healing to my suffering. He was in possession of a high degree of Reiki. His powers could not reach me because I did not open myself to his spiritual treatment. I was also strengthened and protected by the power of the Church, the sacraments and the Word of God. I fought for my conviction, for my faith, for my God. I did not give away a iota of what made up my life, what was sacred to me. The healer could not understand how such a sick woman could be so strong spiritually. For about 5 months I defended the sonship of Jesus Christ. I had not had a meeting with him for a long time. But he kept in touch by phone, no doubt in anticipation of a possible agreement. After 5 months he literally said, "You only had to agree with me once that Jesus is not the Son of God, then my powers could have reached you". "You are so unapproachable but so strong, no one can manage you". He also wanted to convey the spiritual magic eye to me. This man could not only heal with the help of the dark power. He had all the abilities that helped him to deceive and influence people. He literally exclaimed during a discussion, "And if Satan does good, I place myself at his disposal". He covered this alleged good with the cloak of "white magic". White or black, both come from the same channel, both effect the same power. Magic never has anything to do with God. This spiritual healer was a good teacher for my later work of education. I was able to learn and hear many things from him that also help other people to recognise this darkness. Not every healer has the same abilities, the same powers. They are good people who want to help. They are deceived and misled by the darkness.
For ten years I walked with this incurable disease. The pain grew stronger, unbearable. There was no hope for a cure for a long time. I felt that my body had given up the fight against the bacteria. In my weakness I could hardly walk. For days, my strength only reached from the sofa in the living room to the deck chair in the garden. Since my children were out of the house studying at the time, I had time for myself. I had time to contemplate nature, to listen to my fellow human beings and above all, to pray. I spent hours in spiritual abiding with the Lord. In prayer, I was allowed to realise that I should surrender myself completely to God's love, that I should speak an absolute "yes" to God's will. I did it. I surrendered myself completely to the divine will and entrusted myself to His love. I didn't know if it was a "yes" to live or to die. I never asked for healing again, my "yes" was firm. The whole hip was ulcerated down to the periosteum. All organs showed the strain of the infection. Liver, spleen and lymphs were overly swollen. MRI scans showed severe changes in the spinal cord. I had heart problems, a severely altered blood count, a kidney stone, vision and hearing problems. The pain was so severe that it was almost impossible to sleep for months. There was no more time for me. I waited from morning to evening and from evening to morning. My prayer was, "Take me and make of me what Your love wants to make of me". It was August 1993. Once again a frontal attack was to be made on the germs. Room and bed had been ordered in the hospital. All sick, infected tissue was to be removed, a risky procedure. My internist and a microbiologist consistently advised me against it. According to these doctors, everything was too far advanced, the attempt hopeless. "If you survive this operation, a wheelchair will await you," was the further prognosis. But my pain left me no choice. I wanted to risk everything once more. I had nine days left, just the time for a novena. Praying to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I wanted to get advice. I did not ask for healing, I asked for the knowledge of God's will. She, the Mother, who herself spoke her "Fiat" in trust in the Lord, will also show me the right way in my trust. "Do what HE tells you," she spoke before the first miracle of Jesus in Cana. She pointed to Jesus, her Son. "Do what HE tells you," I also heard in my heart. She pointed my gaze to the cross. Jesus' cross gave me strength, light and hope. In contemplating His suffering, I became more and more like Him with my suffering and pain. It was no longer I who lived, but HE, Jesus, who lived in me. In this surrender to the divine "You", Jesus took my final illness from me in a single moment. I felt the touch of his hand. It drew the fire from my body. Time was fulfilled. It happened on the night of the 4th to the 5th day of the novena during intimate communion with the Lord on the cross. I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke in the morning, the sun greeted me, the birds were singing and there was infinite peace in my heart. I had awakened to a new life. All traces of the disease were gone. There was no more organ swelling, no more lymph problems, no more pain. The next check-up showed the best blood. I did not receive this healing for myself, but for my fellow human beings.
Two years earlier, in a vision, heaven showed me a darkness that spread like a net over the whole earth. This vision opened my understanding. My mind's eye grasped in a single instant the blindness that emanated from this darkness. I recognised the power behind it. I grasped the full scope of the worldwide seduction of New Age. I also received the clear realisation of all the encounters I had had with esoteric people during the past years. This insight exceeded my mental powers. I fell into a deep sadness. Weeping bitterly, I sought refuge in a church. There I heard Jesus speaking to me acoustically. It was the most loving voice that ever spoke to me. "Why are you so sad? I was there! I had to lead you into the darkness, otherwise how could you have known? You had to recognise the darkness so that others would be saved from it - your brothers and sisters. Those who are against me now will then be for me. My glory I hold in store for all". All sadness was gone in that moment. I felt light and free. But what was I supposed to do with these words of Jesus, since there was no longer any future for me medically? How could I fulfil Jesus' mission? I did not know. Eternal love goes its own way with every human being. It is, as it were, the walk of God through His soul. The whole biography of a person takes place in the heart of God. My path was also planned in God's plan of love. As early as in 1986, a nun of St. Benedict, a former teacher, let me know that she had been praying for me for 25 years, and that I was even obliged to pray for her. She wrote that she was allowed to recognise in prayer that a difficult task had been assigned to me for the future. I could not do anything with this prophecy, but I kept these words in my heart. A Pallottine priest, who knew about my incurable illness and about Jesus' mission, encouraged me with the words, "Miracles happen in the Spirit of God. If it is the Spirit's will, wait!" The miracle in the Spirit of God happened and I began to speak. I have now been working in the ministry of Christian information for 15 years. - When we try to pass on spiritual things, when we do missionary work, we always come to a point where we realise how helpless, weak and powerless we are. Then the power of the Holy Spirit comes and causes this and even more, which we cannot do, through us. Then things happen which are not our work at all, but where we have become instruments in our weakness and through our will. - I can experience this power of the Holy Spirit again and again when I make myself available as an instrument in the service of others. In 1996 I consecrated myself to the Immaculate Heart of Mary and chose her as the patroness of my apostolate. In 1999, in the year of God the Father, I gave my life to the Triune God. Bishop Dr. Walter Mixa, Bishop of my diocese of Augsburg, conveyed his blessing to me in writing. He writes, among other things, "It is of great importance to point out the dangers of these movements, which take hold especially where the Christian faith evaporates." Holy Spirit, in love and reverence I adore You. Do not cease to change me according to Your wisdom. Open me to Your instructions; give me the grace to discern them and the strength to carry them out.
Amen.
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