AT 20 YEARS: FOLGORATE ON THE ROUTE OF MEDJUGORJE - From mundane he becomes an apostle

Da Paolo Tessione - June 28, 2019

This small family lives its joys. On August 11 a 20-year-old boy arrived at Vespers time: he had snatched an extraordinary license from the captain:
“I could not stay in the barracks on the anniversary of my conversion. I came to party with you ”And laughing, happy as a child, he tells about his adventure. Listening to Gianni becomes prayer. Before a year ago my life was discos, women - I changed one every evening -, playing cards and drinking without paying because I always won, and going home drunk. Never think of God, never pray. And always not to all the invitations that came from my uncles, very deep in Medjugorje, so that I too would go or participate in their groups. And no to all the occasions they offered me to hear about it.

But one day off I left for Yugoslavia, where the desire to have fun on the beach drove me, certainly not the desire for Medjugorje. After a series of setbacks that delayed my schedule and made me feel strange presentiments, I took a great desire to run. And the more I went on, the more I ran, despite the dangers of the roads due to heavy traffic: I saw overturned cars, I myself touched several accidents. The walk offered to a person delayed me for two hours. I was tired and getting dark. After Makarska the accident that led to my conversion, like the lightning that made Saul fall from his horse on the road to Damascus. Suddenly I found a stationary car in front of me on the left, while a German BMW, passing it, invaded my lane; and to my right two little girls ran on the asphalt. What to do? Or throw myself against one of the cars or against the girls to end up at sea (there was no railing). I didn't have time to brake and, at full speed, I hit the girls. After 100 meters of zigzag my car stopped: I was unharmed and turning around with my heart in my throat I saw the girls running still, happy, on the roadside. My legs were shaking. At that moment my confidence fell. There was no more time to have fun. There I began to pray. For years I hadn't been able to say an Ave Maria. I began to invoke Mary and go to Medjugorje.

More accidents: two cars in the ravine, another just pulled up, a truck blinded me with the headlights pointed. He was exhausted. Now there was only a great desire: to get to Medjugorje I asked but nobody ... knew where Medjugorje was, or they made me go wrong. I turned to the police and asked Ljubuski "not to suspect them. From there to Medjugorje the stretch is short. I arrived in front of the Church that it was night, but with great joy in my heart and I said "thank you". Nobody knew how to point me to Jelena's house where the uncles were guests. I slept in the car. The next day, 12 August I took Mass in Italian at 11 and a force pushed me to take communion. If I had thought of the evil done to the girls, to those who believed, to the parents, it would not have been possible to make communion without confession. After Mass I searched for a long time for the Church a priest willing to listen to me; finally one welcomed me in the sacristy. After that, I confessed twice a day, so much was the joy I felt, and a cyclamen scent always followed me. I prayed in front of the statue and smelled the perfume. On the way back I noticed three different qualities.

Back from Medjugorje I had to cut with everything and everyone and so I started listening to those priests that I used to mock. A spiritual father helped me, gave me a long talk about sin, I learned what true Christian relationships with girls were supposed to be. After 11 August I no longer frequented discos, or watched pornographic newspapers or films anymore. My heart sang. When I looked at the host at the elevation I thought: You Jesus healed my heart. I would have broken the walls with joy.

I've been in the barracks for several months now. Poor guys! A 10% have parents in discord or know that one or the other has a lover. A 10% return home after the license and the girl has an abortion. How many believe to find happiness in pleasure! There are those who participate in black masses and draw crosses with dates of birth and death, or go to bivouac on the grave of a tragically dead girl. They dispose of photocopies of a sheet, on which one is invited to swear loyalty to Satan and denies the baptism received: many sign, then repent, but take drugs and have something inside that makes them feel bad: Satan is minister of death. The officers are also sick and no longer know what to invent to make us sick too. They have great inner suffering. The first officer is all a blasphemy. They transfer me to the worst service: "Thank you Lord!", But this is not the way to deal!

I have never been as happy as in this period. Jesus loves us. I attend a prayer group outside the barracks. To face twelve months of military service without praying is impossible. In May I fell into a depressive crisis: "Why Jesus?" I said. Nobody noticed. With faith, I came out on my own, approaching daily Mass and confession. Then ... Maria helped me! Thanks to Jesus I have been a tool of conversion for some boys, but too few. I try to talk about Jesus and help everyone. If one says to me: "How should I be to be happy like you" "Go confess" -I answer. But everyone gives me examples of priests who are not doing well. Yes, not all priests are good, but I say to them: “If a consecrated particle falls, do you step on it? We don't have to talk about them, but pray for them. " But one must be careful to choose a priest who is doing well. Yes, there is something good in all young people. You must wait and ask the Lord to give you the right words to touch them in the heart. Today I went to pray with the parents, to do the Via Crucis with them. I am happy, burst of joy. I have been on this journey of faith for a year. I wish it to everyone.

Source: Taken from the Echo of Medjugorje