On my nightstand there is a stack of books. Two of which you’d probably think don’t belong together. One on Our Lady of Kibeho and another by Glennon Doyle. I’ve written previously about Our Lady of Kibeho by Immaculee Ilibagiza and Steve Erwin (2008), and how I believe her messages to the children of Africa are not limited to that particular time and space but in fact speak to the many sufferings we’re currently experiencing in the United States, specifically racial tension and a growing hatred towards others with opposing views. Recently, Our Lady of Kibeho’s messages have been resurfacing in my mind and the one being pressed upon me the most is Mary’s statements about how she is a mother to all— just like God is a father to all. Since learning of these apparitions, I’ve discovered that people from all walks of life and different views of spirituality, like Glennon Doyle, feel the loving embrace of this Mother in Heaven. In fact, The Blessed Mother succeeds where others fail in bridging the gap between the wayward sinner and God.

She is called the Mediatrix after all.

In her raw and moving memoir Love Warrior, Glennon Doyle (2016) relates the story of going to see a priest during a tumultuous period in her life while in the throes of alcoholism. She steps into the church and shares the following experience:

I stand still for a second, waiting. Nothing happens, and no one comes to receive me.  So I look farther ahead and I see another room. I walk through the glass door and step inside. In here it is red and velvety and still and warm. The incense in the air fills me and makes the space inside me and the space outside of me less empty, less lonely, less vast, more solid, more safe. I feel enveloped, as if I have stepped out of my life and in to somewhere better. It’s not too bright or too dark in here. The ceiling is just the right height and it makes me feel just the right size. There’s enough room to feel free, but not enough to feel insignificant. I see a tray of candles flickering in front of the altar and I walk towards them, slowly, down the aisle like a bride, wobbly in my heels. When I’m halfway there, my heel catches on the rug and my ankle turns. I sit down on the floor and unbuckle all the little straps on my shoes. When I stand, holding my heels in one hand, the soles of my feet touch the red velvet carpet and the softness sends a comforting ripple all the way to the top of my head. This carpet must have been made to warm the soles of bare feet. I keep walking and then I stop in front of the tray of lit candles. Are these wishes? Are these other people’s prayers?

I look up higher and see that I am standing beneath a huge painting of Mary holding her baby. I look at Mary and she looks at me. My heart does not leap, it does not thud—it swells and beats steadily, insistently. My heart fills my chest but does not hurt, so I do not break eye contact with Mary. Mary is lit up bright but I am in soft, forgiving light. She is wearing a gown and her face is clear. I am wearing a tube top and my face is dirty, but she is not mad at me so I do not bother to cover myself. Mary is not what people think she is. She and I are the same. She loves me, I know it. She has been waiting for me. She is my mother. She is my mother without any fear for me. I sit in front of her and I want to stay here forever, in my bare feet, with Mary and her baby around this campfire of candle prayers. I do not know if I believe in Mary, but I believe in her right now. She is real. She is what I needed. She is the hiding place I’ve been looking for (Melton, 2016, pp. 54-55).  

Glennon’s sentiments parallel beautifully with what Mary told the seers at Kibeho. In fact, you might even say Mary spoke her response decades before Glennon ever wrote words on a page.

“Her arms are wide open to embrace all who come to her,” says the seer Vestine, “She will press you tightly to her bosom and cherish and protect you” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 113) She continues, “Our Lady says that she will console you; She hears the prayers of all who call on her, and she watches over you all.” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 113-114).

Perhaps you are thinking “Well, she obviously meant the people of the town and country she appeared to, or Catholics who accept teachings and devotions to Mary.”

Not true.

Mary tells another seer Marie-Claire “When I address myself to you, I am talking to the whole world. I have not come to Rwanda to speak to only those in the parish of Kibeho. When I speak to one person, I speak to all of God’s children everywhere” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 85).

In fact, the Blessed Mother made the following promise to all the students of the high school the seers attended:

“Soon after Marie-Claire’s apparitions began, the Blessed Mother appeared to each of the visionaries separately and told them that she’d come to them, one after the other, in the courtyard of the school on March 25. She instructed them to gather all 120 students together, and have everyone pray the rosary as an act of penance for having persecuted the visionaries. Our Lady said that if the students agreed, she’d grant them all a gift: she promised that every student who attended Kibeho High School for the next six years would complete her education and graduate with a diploma. The promise may sound insignificant to other parts of the world, but in Rwanda such an achievement was completely unknown. Poverty, illness, and the extreme shortage of school placements ensured that only a few students from any one school would complete their education and graduate” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 65).

Naturally the Muslims and Protestants at the school thought this promise was reserved just for the Catholics. The seer Anathalie told these students that Mary “didn’t look at religion; all people were her children, regardless of their beliefs” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 65). In addition, she stated, “Our Lady has never told me that people should convert from their religions, but she loves us so much that she begs us to convert our hearts and love to our Father—that’s what she means by ‘conversions.’ She says that the best way to achieve this is by praying the rosary, which isn’t only for Catholics. It’s a tool anyone can learn to use to talk to God” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 66).

These statements are utterly compelling.             

God and our Mother Mary desire a child-like love. A love that stands before the altar barefoot, in a tube top. A love that says my spirituality doesn’t fit perfectly inside this box, but will you have me anyway? Will you be my Mother? Will you be my Father?

“God doesn’t abandon any of His children; He is always waiting for you to say yes to Him and let Him into your hearts. God will never deny you mercy if you have a true conversion in your heart” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 106).

We place limits on God’s love and in turn we have forgotten the wonder, the majestic experience of God. A Muslim and a protestant can pray the rosary and receive a miracle, but what are Catholics receiving? Are we ready for God to fulfill the promise? Or instead, do our fingers slip mindlessly across rosary beads simply out of routine or because someone told us we must pray them?

One of my best friends doesn’t believe in organized religion, but she finds great comfort in praying the rosary at times, a practice she picked up from her two grandmothers who were Catholic. My friend and I don’t share the same views on spirituality, but we don’t have to because I take the Lord and his mother at their word.

“True conversion in your heart” (Ilibagiza & Erwin, 2008, p. 106).

“For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7

This is why I believe the same Mother who touched my heart in the pages of Our Lady of Kibeho touched Glennon’s while standing before a painting in a dark church. Where we go from our encounters is up to us, but we must remember that regardless of what we believe, all have been called to the meeting place. The place where Jesus hands us his mother and says, “Son, daughter, behold your mother”.

Let us accept this gift and stand in “soft, forgiving light” (Melton, 2016, pp. 54).

Melton, G.D. (2016). Love warrior. New York, NY: Flatiron Books

Ilibagiza, I, Erwin, S. (2008, November). Our lady of kibeho: mary speaks to the world from the heart of africa. New York, NY: Hay House, Inc.