Thank You, Padre Pio!

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Every morning a suffering. My daughter, the doctor, said that every time she is home, I grimace in pain over a part of a body. No ouch nor screaming of the sort, just curling in agony waiting for the piercing pain or muscle cramp to subside. Healing oils were soothing, as well as the tapping and the massaging. Every night before I sleep, I simply wish I'd grow older physically functional, and never ever be a burden to my daughters. Never prayed to be free of pain, for the pain keeps me grounded, that I am human, and each suffering an offering to my God Who has gifted me with life. Albeit yesterday, I did find my self incapacitated - my right leg and the lower part of my spine rendered me unable to walk properly. So I sprawled on the couch, right leg up over another chair, humbly offering the pain for our Lord. Then a friend called via landline. My daughter, the environmental planner, answered, and my friend was reminding me about the feast of Padre Pio. Instantly I begged Padre Pio, the saint who bore the stigmata of our Lord for half-a-century, hidden in San Giovanni Rotondo, that my body be able to function as it should, according to how God created it to be. Didn't Padre Pio say that he would be of stronger assistance after his death? It's more than half-a-century now, and this morning, I rose from the bed and walked, as if Padre Pio was nudging - time to offer your joy to our Creator. Thank you, Padre Pio, oh saint of pure heart, most humble to endure the wounds of our Lord. Keep me grounded.