What happened while in Lourdes.

Some of the beautiful, surprising, and Providential things that happened during our time in Lourdes.

In my last letter, I poured my little heart out to tell you why I just had to go to Lourdes.

It was a story that started in childhood and traversed ages and circumstances, from brokenness and sin to hope and miracles. It was a journey just to get to Lourdes, not counting what it took to make the actual pilgrimage, and one that marked pieces of my own life complete. Not to sound dramatic, but Lourdes has been a common thread in the tapestry of my life and now I want to tell you some of what happened when we got there. (The rest I’ll leave for a chapter in my book XOXO.)

The 4th time is the charm.

Our trip was initially planned for October of 2023.

We were supposed to fly into Lourdes for just a few days and then fly home. I had an Airbnb booked.

Then our daughter got sick. And I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Life needed us home.

We moved it to the following July of 2024. I had hotels and flights booked.

But timing wasn’t right over the summer break and kids needed us home.

So I moved everything to September 2024.

But then Alex got a big contract at work and it was something that required his presence. Standing in Office Depot, hearing about work and deadlines, I knew we had to move our trip again. Because, this time, work needed us home.

So I cried as I opened my Delta app once again. I randomly chose May 2025 when kids would be busy with school and there wasn’t much going on. But the hope of ever getting there dwindled. I cried some more. Alex didn’t quite understand, although he did know the feeling of dashed plans and broken dreams. We had buried a lot of those together and apart.

And so I reserved the big stuff (hotels, flights, transportation) in the new cities we’d be visiting, too, and shelved everything in my mind and heart. Leaving it all up to God how it’d work out, if it ever did at all.

But on May 13th (the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima), Alex and I boarded a flight to Paris…and then just 4 days later, to Lourdes.

We made it. And what happened at Lourdes will forever be etched into my heart and body. Some to be revealed now and more in later days to come.

All I had to do was get there…

Most people go for the baths and healing water, some go for the grotto and experience. Many go for all of it.

Me? I just had to put my feet in Lourdes. Then I knew my job was done.

In my heart, I knew all I had to do was get there. Even if just for one day. That was the only requirement on my part and then God (and Our Lady) would take over the rest.

I didn’t look at schedules or itineraries before we got there. I wanted to see what would unfold.

Faith to move mountains, carried solely in the journey to get there.

When our taxi entered the village, my heart swelled. When Alex and I stepped into our room and saw that beautiful church built over the grotto on the horizon, standing as a celestial beacon of hope for her children to come to, I cried. This time it wasn’t tears of sadness, it was tears that I had made it.

And it was time to hand over the rest of the pilgrimage to God.

Goodness, did He take the reins. In fact, He gave them to His mother and she took care of me. She led us to each place at the exact time we needed to be there. She led us to experiences and situations we couldn’t have planned ahead of time if we tried.

Night 1.

One thing I didn’t mention was that while in Lourdes there was the annual military pilgrimage happening at the same time. At first I thought it would be overcrowded and annoying. But it ended up being a highlight of the trip. Military from all over the world gathered together and the streets were lively and happening.

After dinner the first evening, we (out of the blue) ran into a friend of mine that we go to church with. She was there with the military pilgrimage I had mentioned. She also came on the Mexico City pilgrimage I had led a few years prior to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Not only was it surprising seeing her, but she was instrumental in getting us into the baths.

We had planned the next morning to go to the Latin Mass at the Fraternity of St. Peter and then explore the Sanctuary grounds. But after talking with her we decided to get to the baths at 6am, when the gates opened, even though the baths themselves didn’t open until 9am.

And it was the first Providential act that directed our journey.

The second happened that night.

We decided to head down to the Sanctuary after our encounter and while walking down there, stumbled upon some nuns. Follow the nuns is what I say. And they took us to the Swiss Guards and the torchlight procession.

During the thirteenth Apparition at Lourdes, Mary said to Bernadette: “Go, tell the priests that people should come here in procession...” We did and we were there. Catholics from all over the world, singing and praising God. And obedience became joy and that procession became another seed of hope planted that good things were going to happen.

The morning of Day 2 - a dawn of resurrection and unexpected answered prayer

It was a dark Sunday morning, 5am to be exact, when Alex and I awoke and headed to the Sanctuary gates.

There were already people waiting to get in.

Once they were opened we ventured around the back of the massive church to the baths. It was an inconspicuous area, but one that held promise and hope.

We were the first in line. I was going to bathe in her waters.

Or so I thought.

Three hours (and a few rosaries) later, the volunteers arrived. And so did more people. People who stood in front of me…by the gates, not in line. People with doctor’s notes and letters of illness. The military who got to be let in before everyone else since it was their pilgrimage week.

All of them were let in while I still stood outside the ropes.

And my heart began to race.

What if I stand here for more hours and don’t get in? What if I come back later and it’s full again? What if I get led to the side where I don’t get to be submerged? What if I made it all this way and none of it happens?

And then my racing heart whispered: Faith. Charity.

Yes.

I knew that God’s power did not lie solely in the water, in a physical place. It lay in the power of belief and LOVE. For what would it profit me if I became annoyed and worried? What would I gain if I pushed and argued my way to the front, instead of taking the last place - the place Jesus took? Why would going into the baths be of more importance than a kind heart? What would it profit me to be healed if that same heart didn’t know humility and charity?

Yes.

While I couldn’t completely curb my anxiousness, I did reset my intentions. For love and salvation are more important than any experience at Lourdes or physical healing I could possibly get. And so I began to pray for each soul. For their intentions and salvation. That God would grant each one of them their heart’s desire.

I also began praying the Flying Novena. This novena of 9+1 Memorares never ceases to fail me (never) and what happened next was testament to God’s faithfulness.

Because Alex was plucked from the line and ushered in.

Led to the benches on the side where the men were sat, Alex was chosen for submersion. He was only there for me…and I secretly longed for him to get into the baths even more than me…so it was a surprise to him.

And then, after one more Flying Novena, it was my turn.

I was led to another bench not far from where Alex was sitting, with the other women. And next to me sat an older woman and her friend, both of them in line behind us from the beginning.

After sitting down, I began sobbing.

I was going to make it into the baths.

All of the years, the expectation, the hoping, the prayers I had prayed, all of the begging and pleading with God, all of the journeying and waiting, the traveling and obedience, all of it converged in my heart and I couldn’t stop crying. Those tears bathed me, too. They washed the past away. They cleansed my heart of all fear. They paved a way for me to rest in God’s providence.

The lady next to me pulled me close. She put her shawl around me and held me as I cried. I felt Our Lady’s arms around me and I took a deep breath.

And I was reminded of the woman I knew I would meet at Lourdes.

I dried my eyes and looked up at her. What’s your name? I asked.

Maria Teresa.

You are the woman Our Lady told me I was going to meet, I responded.

More happened with her but I’ll leave that story for another day…

Because it was soon time to enter the baths.

Submerged in the waters at Lourdes

Not long after sitting down, I saw Alex emerge from the baths. His hair was wet. His countenance, changed.

The peace I witnessed splashed across his face was like nothing I had seen him look like before.

An hour later, it was my turn.

Shedding all clothing and expectations, I sat with a thin blue towel around me.

I was led back behind the curtain and, standing a few steps down, was a stone bath with the water from her spring.

I was given some time to silently state my intentions. If you read my last piece, you know what I was asking for.

But even more than that, and before I boldly stated my reasons to God and Our Lady for why I sought full and complete physical healing, I asked for salvation. For myself and Alex, for our kids. For those I know and love. Because what would physical healing be worth if heaven wasn’t reached?? Not just for myself but for my family and friends. And I prayed for you, too.

After I had turned over my intentions, I was led into the icy water and submerged. It was but moments - but they were moments that marked a completeness to my life.

I clothed myself with my dress and the peace that Alex seemed to receive, too.

And I walked out of the baths knowing that I never had to ask for those things again. All I had to do now was live.

I was assured that I had done everything I could to allow God’s glory to shine in the brokenness of my life. From then on, it was His to do as He pleased.

For time’s sake I won’t get into more than that right now. There is quite a bit of nuance and depth to those feelings and sentiments but I want to hit publish on this letter before I get too crazy writing about it all.

Plus, there is something else I want to tell you about while we were there.

The baths weren’t the most special thing that happened…

I had once read that most of the miracles that occurred at Lourdes actually happened during the Eucharistic Procession.

Which makes total sense. For Our Lady is always leading us to her Son. He is the Divine Physician.

At 5pm daily, this Procession takes place from the Chapel, through the Sanctuary grounds, and ending with time for Adoration and Benediction at the steps of the Basilica.

Alex and I ventured over to get a spot. As Jesus started to come towards me, I was consumed once again with emotion and tears. Kneeling in worship, my face pressed to the ground, I was in awe.

Following behind the Priests and Bishops, came the disabled. Wheelchair after wheelchair, all following Jesus in hopeful expectation.

Alex and I then got up to join those walking. Somehow, during the Procession, a path kept opening and we found ourselves at the very front.

Arriving at the steps, Jesus was literally right before us.

Silence and Adoration of our King.

Then it was time for Benediction (where Jesus blesses the people at the hands of his priest). With the golden monstrance glowing in the sun, the priest stood right in front of me. Not even 3 feet away.

With Jesus towering over me, something happened. To my body. I’m not ready or willing to share what that is yet, but there was a clear sign my prayers in the baths were heard.

The rest of the 2nd day…

After the baths in the morning, we went and lit candles, attended Sunday Mass, and ventured almost all day around the grounds.

We walked under and beside the grotto where Our Lady appeared.

We visited relics of St. Bernadette.

We prayed in the Basilica…which happens to be named the Church of the Holy Rosary.

We got ice cream in the village.

We closed the day with dinner on our balcony - meat and cheese and wine from the local butcher.

And we reveled in a slice of heaven on earth.

God so palpable, you could taste Him. Peace so real you never wanted to leave.

Day 3 - our 7th day in France and last day in Lourdes.

Since Thunderstorms were forecast for the day, and since our encounters the previous day left us whole and complete, we didn’t have much of a plan.

So we snuggled up together in a little cafe with a cappuccino, and then made our way back down to the Sanctuary grounds.

We spent a couple hours just sitting at the grotto - praying and contemplating. We joined the Rosary with EWTN. We touched all the rosaries we bought to the rock and the waters.

We prayed in the church.

We went to Adoration in the chapel.

We ran into someone we know who is volunteering there. (And now I want my girls to live there for a bit, too!)

We splashed in the rain and drank more cappuccinos.

We went to the butcher for more cheese.

He gave us what we ordered, then turned to me and asked if I wanted to try something special. He said the rind of the cheese had roses in it.

You see, while sitting at the grotto I had told Our Lady that I will never ask for a sign that my prayers were heard. I even said, I won’t even ask for a rose.

Legit my words. Then I was given a rose. Maybe a coincidence. It was probably God showing off.

That night we listened to the rain and turned in early. We were off to the south of France the next day to finish out our time in France with sun and relaxation.

What I took away from Lourdes.

For obvious reasons, I barely scratched the surface of our pilgrimage.

But a pilgrimage it was. While Paris and Nice were the bookends of a vacation, Lourdes was different - it was an odyssey that paralleled the narrow way that is life. It was a journey of struggle to get there - both in planning and anxious expectation - but it also ended up being a slice of paradise to walk amongst.

Lourdes is more than just water and grottos. It is a testament to how far one is willing to go to seek God and His glory. It is a witness to the triumph of heaven over the spirit of the world. Of course one does not have to travel around the world to see God, to experience miracles, to expand their faith, or to mirror the pilgrimage of life. We can do all those things in the regular day-to-day. And we often do!

However, in the submersion and Adoration, in the physical act of bathing in water and touching sacred rock, we receive spiritual gifts. This is the Sacramental life - life giving grace given through physical means. At Lourdes. In our Churches. In our homes.

The world is a dark place right now - just as many of our own lives experience the same death and suffering, sin and despair as what’s going on “out there” - and many things seem hopeless. But in your life in mine, and in the world, it doesn’t end there. The journey will be perilous but the destination will be worth it.

Wholeness and holiness. God Himself. Our Lady bringing us to her Son. Miracles. Heaven.

Your turn to chime in!

I want to know about your pilgrimages: maybe an official one, a pilgrimage you took on your own, or how you equate life to being this same kind of journey. Share with us a story, maybe a lesson learned, or anything else on your mind. I love hearing your stories, too, for they give us all encouragement on the narrow way.

Love, Kristine