Some time ago, I came down with a case of the shingles at a place on my body where the sun doesn’t shine. I had always heard that this virus was very painful. In reality, I had no idea how painful it actually would be.
On the second day after my diagnosis, as the rash blossomed, the pain was horrible. I could not sit, stand or even lie down. I could not pray. All I could do was finger the beads of my Rosary, allowing the tears to stream down my face. I prayed, “Dearest Jesus. How, as a human, could your body withstand all the suffering and the pain and the sins of all humanity for all time on the cross?” As I said these words out loud, I burst into tearful sobs. His response to me was deeply profound. I heard a gentle whisper, “I could because my mother stood near me.”