There are certain sounds that stay with us all our lives. 

The soft voice of a mother singing beside a bed. The creak of a rocking chair in the quiet of the evening. The whisper of bedtime prayers. The sound of footsteps coming quickly when a child cries in the night. 

Many of us remember nursery rhymes and lullabies long after we have forgotten so many other things. There is something about the voice of a mother that settles deeply into the soul. Even elderly men and women, after long lives and many years, will sometimes call out for their mother in moments of sickness or fear. Because somewhere deep within us is the memory of what it felt like to be protected – to be watched over – to belong completely to someone who loved us before we had done anything to deserve it. 

A mother’s love shapes a child long before the child understands it. She is there for scraped knees and fevers and nightmares. She is there teaching little hands how to fold in prayer. She is there saying things children hear so often they almost become part of the walls of the house. 

“Be careful.” 
“Look both ways.” 
“Tell me the truth.” 
“Call me when you get there.” 
“Stay away from danger.” 
“Wear your coat.” 
“Come home before dark.” 

Simple words. Ordinary words. But behind them is something extraordinary. Behind them is watchfulness. Protection. Sacrifice. Love. 

A mother carries burdens no one sees. She stays awake when everyone else is sleeping. She notices changes no one else notices. She hears pain hidden behind silence. She worries quietly. She prays quietly. She sacrifices quietly. And often the world never fully knows how much of itself was held together by the hidden love of mothers. 

And perhaps that is why the loss of a mother leaves such a deep ache in the human heart. Some listening today were blessed with mothers whose love reflected something beautiful and safe and steady. But others were not.  

Some lost their mothers when they were very young. Some grew up in homes where tenderness was missing. Some never truly felt protected. Some never heard the words, “I love you.” Some were wounded by the very person who should have sheltered them. 

And these wounds do not simply disappear because years pass. People carry them quietly into adulthood. Into marriages. Into friendships. Into old age.  

There are people who spend their whole lives searching for something they cannot quite name. A place to rest. A place to belong. A place where they feel safe enough to stop being afraid. And sometimes what they are truly grieving is the absence of a mother’s love. 

There are souls who move through life spiritually orphaned. And perhaps that is why the gift Christ gave from the Cross was so full of mercy. Because in the final moments of His suffering, Our Lord looked down upon humanity and gave us His Mother. “Woman, behold thy son.”  

And then to St. John: “Behold thy mother.” 

I think many converts to the Catholic faith, and many cradle Catholics as well, discover something profound when they truly come to know Mary. There is a part of the soul that finally begins to rest. Not because Mary replaces God. Not because she is worshiped. But because Christ, in His mercy, knew the human heart needed a mother. 

A mother who comforts. A mother who listens. A mother who intercedes. A mother who stays.  

And for many wounded souls, devotion to Our Lady becomes the first place they ever truly feel safe enough to stop running. 

Perhaps that is why so many people find themselves weeping before a statue of Mary without even fully understanding why. Because something deep within the human heart recognizes a mother’s love.  

And perhaps that is why Heaven has sent Our Lady again and again throughout history. 

As Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico … 
As Our Lady of Lourdes in France … 
As Our Lady of Fatima in Portugal … 
As Our Lady of LaSalette in France … 
As Our Lady of Akita in Japan … 
As Our Lady of Good Success in Ecuador … 
As Our Lady of Knock in Ireland … 
As Our Lady of Pontmain in France … 
As Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal in France … 
As Our Lady of Mount Carmel in the Holy Land … 
As Our Lady of Sorrows at the foot of the Cross … 

And in countless places known and unknown, across centuries of human sorrow and wandering, Our Lady has continued to call her children home.  

Again and again, Heaven reaches toward wounded humanity through the heart of a Mother. 

And perhaps that is the great tragedy of our age. 

Not merely that the world has grown sinful. Humanity has always struggled with sin. But that so many no longer recognize the voice of their Mother. 

We live in a time where people are drowning in noise but starving for tenderness. Connected to everyone and yet deeply alone. There is danger everywhere. Division everywhere. Fear everywhere. Restlessness everywhere.  

And beneath much of it is the loneliness of souls that no longer know where home is.  

A child separated from his mother becomes frightened and restless. And perhaps spiritually that is what has happened to much of the modern world. People search everywhere trying to fill the ache within them.  

Some search through pleasure – some through power – some through politics – some through money – some through endless distractions – because silence is too painful. 

But nothing fully heals the wound because the soul is searching for what it was created to know: the love of God – and the tenderness of a mother leading her children safely toward Him.  

That is why devotion to Mary has brought such healing to so many wounded souls throughout history. Not because Catholics worship Mary. We do not. But because Christ Himself, in His mercy, gave His Mother to humanity.  

And good mothers do not stop loving their children simply because the children wander far away. A good mother continues to pray. Continues to wait. Continues to call. Continues to warn. Continues to hope.  

And perhaps all the apparitions of Our Lady throughout history are really the same moment repeated again and again. A Mother standing at the doorway calling her children home before darkness falls. 

“Please listen.” 
“Return to my Son.” 
“Turn away from sin.” 
“Pray.” 
“Do not lose your soul.” 
“Come home.” 

And the darkness in our world is no longer difficult to see. 

Families are collapsing. Children are being corrupted. Innocence is under attack openly and shamelessly. And within the Church there is confusion, compromise, scandal, silence, and betrayal where souls should have found clarity and truth. 

Many souls no longer know truth from falsehood, good from evil, light from darkness. And perhaps that is part of the great sorrow of our age. The very places where wounded souls should have found safety have often become places of confusion and disappointment instead.  

And in times like these, frightened children look for their mother. Not only for comfort. But for protection. Because a good mother does not merely warn her children about danger. She gathers them close when the storm begins. And perhaps that is why devotion to Our Lady matters now more than ever. 

Because beneath her mantle there is protection. There is guidance. There is refuge. There is the steady voice of a Mother leading her children safely toward her Son while the world around them trembles.  

From the very beginning, God foretold that the serpent would not triumph forever. And throughout history, Our Lady has stood as the great enemy of Satan, the woman clothed with the sun, the Mother whose heel crushes the serpent. 

That is why Hell hates her. Because purity terrifies corruption. Humility terrifies pride. And the love of a holy mother terrifies darkness itself. 

At Fatima, after all the warnings, after all the visions, after all the pleas for repentance and prayer, Our Lady gave the world a promise: “In the end, my Immaculate Heart will triumph.” 

Not the darkness – not the confusion – not the culture of death – not Satan. Her Immaculate Heart will triumph. 

And perhaps that is what souls need to remember now. 

The safest place in a darkening world is close to the Mother who always leads her children to Jesus Christ. May we listen to her voice.  

May we stay beneath her mantle. 
May we pray the Rosary faithfully. 
May we remain close to the Sacraments. 
And may we never wander far from the Mother Christ Himself gave to us beneath the Cross. 

May Almighty God bless you, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. 

Bishop Joseph E. Strickland 
Bishop Emeritus