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Description
It was a dream years past yet so vivid I can still re-live it in my mind. I stood before the crucified Christ. The sorrow and heaviness were so strong upon me I can still feel them to this day. Bearing it no longer I ran to a house where she was. Falling through the door I landed at her feet, grasping at her clothing through my convulsions of tears, burying my face in the folds of white cloth, seeking comfort from the very one to whom I should have offered comfort. There I remained until the dream ended. This is the only dream I’ve ever had about the Blessed Mother. I was meditating on it again recently and looking for what I could learn about her through this dream. As we entered into the month of May I began to see the lesson. Even during times of sorrow, a mother must be strong and comfort her children, even though she herself needs someone to comfort her. This is her sacrifice. When Christ entrusted her to St. John, no doubt, he was solidifying a bond already existing between the young Apostle and the Blessed Mother. I think I can perhaps now feel some of what John felt as he stood by her side. And so out of this is born my image of Mary, Mother of the Church. A very personal image, her appearance and clothing being based on my dream. She holds at her bosom a building and the Greek word “Ekklesia” representing the assembly of believers. Red roses adorn her, symbolic of passion and the most precious blood of Christ.

Description
It was a dream years past yet so vivid I can still re-live it in my mind. I stood before the crucified Christ. The sorrow and heaviness were so strong upon me I can still feel them to this day. Bearing it no longer I ran to a house where she was. Falling through the door I landed at her feet, grasping at her clothing through my convulsions of tears, burying my face in the folds of white cloth, seeking comfort from the very one to whom I should have offered comfort. There I remained until the dream ended. This is the only dream I’ve ever had about the Blessed Mother. I was meditating on it again recently and looking for what I could learn about her through this dream. As we entered into the month of May I began to see the lesson. Even during times of sorrow, a mother must be strong and comfort her children, even though she herself needs someone to comfort her. This is her sacrifice. When Christ entrusted her to St. John, no doubt, he was solidifying a bond already existing between the young Apostle and the Blessed Mother. I think I can perhaps now feel some of what John felt as he stood by her side. And so out of this is born my image of Mary, Mother of the Church. A very personal image, her appearance and clothing being based on my dream. She holds at her bosom a building and the Greek word “Ekklesia” representing the assembly of believers. Red roses adorn her, symbolic of passion and the most precious blood of Christ.