this is my friend Blessed Marcel Callo! He was born about 100 years ago, and this is the story of how I was healed by God through his intercession

I used to serve as a missionary with kids and teenagers in England, at a retreat center, and in Ohio, at a summer camp. I knew Blessed Marcel’s story of radical joy and everyday holiness for a long time, so in the midst of my mission, I began to ask for his intercession.

He was just a normal dude who was madly in love with Jesus. He liked theatre and sports and hanging out with his friends and going to the movies. I personally felt like a big part of my mission with kids was to show that life with Christ is truly an adventure, not a snooze fest

While serving on mission, I was experiencing some very severe medical issues that had gone undiagnosed after many, many doctor visits. I had tried the English socialized medicine system, Chinese medicine, and a family doctor. Nobody could figure it out.

Meanwhile, I was vomiting nearly everyday, had sharp pains in my spleen, and was having symptoms that would indicate head trauma or brain tumors. Test after test, nothing was revealed.

I knew God desired to heal me, and had prayed for it personally, but never asked anyone else to pray for me. Someone asked me once why I hadn’t asked for prayers, and I said I wanted a diagnosis first. So I could show on paper how good God was.

She told me that I needed to trust He wanted to heal me, even if it was only to show ME how good He is. So the next day, I asked my friends to pray for me. One of them knew my particular devotion to Blessed Marcel, and the moment he began asking for Marcel’s intercession

I felt like ice flooded my entire body. My best friend (now maid of honor!) is a nurse, and she said all of my skin went ice cold and my hands and feet started curling in. I knew everything in my body was different. Quickly after my friends gave praise to God for His mercy,

warmth flooded me again. All of my symptoms went away immediately. I felt an avalanche of the Lord’s love. I am forever changed.

I don’t have the documentation from doctors to prove that I was sick, and then later, that I was better. But I do know what a miracle looks like. And I know that God loves. And He heals. And sometimes, miracles are just to remind me of that, not for impressing the world.

They say when Marcel died, they found his body fallen in a labor camp latrine. They said his eyes were still filled with holiness and joy. I wonder if, in the depth of his personal darkness, he was reminded that God loves. And He heals. AMDG.