Mary Fox Schaefer
Life is a journey and mine started on May 30, 1965. I was born within hours of my mother returning home from daily Mass (Memorial Day). I was blessed with the name “Mary” as I was born in May (two days later and I would have been Lucy, after my great-grandmother).
I grew up on the family farm, just a few minutes’ walk from our country church St. Mary’s-Big River in River Falls, Wisconsin (Venerable Solanus Casey country). I remember riding my bike to church and going inside to contemplate in peace the beautiful stained-glass windows. My first Communion and first reconciliation were grace filled moments that stayed with me in my journey into my teenage and young adult years, when my Catholic faith was tested. My father died of a heart attack when I was 18 and my sister died of cancer when I was 26. Nevertheless, I kept going to Sunday Mass … I’d say Jesus was still in my car but locked away in the trunk as I got lost on several detours.
I was blessed to marry my husband, John. My first impressions weren’t great but then I saw him ushering at Mass the next morning. We were blessed with three beautiful children and were active in our Catholic church and school. Jesus was now in the back seat of the car.
Then my life imploded April 17, 2011 (Palm Sunday), when I got the knock on the door at 8:30 a.m. and my brother-in-law told me my John had passed away that morning while at the cabin from a heart attack. I crumbled … it was as if a “sword had pierced my heart.” Sound familiar? That was Simeon’s prophecy to our Virgin Mother Mary during Jesus’ presentation in the Temple. So, I knew she (Mary) knew my pain. I turned to Mary and asked her to hold me as she held her son (remembering my small Pieta statue I had as a child).
A few weeks after John’s death, I still wasn’t sleeping at night. A friend loaned me her iPod and said “here Mary, borrow this, listen to the rosary recording. It will help you sleep.” Okay, so while I was a “good Catholic” and said evening prayers, wend to Mass every weekend, I was not a fan of the rosary. I grew up saying the rosary as a family on Friday nights … blah blah blah, blah blah blah. But I listened to this friend and started listening to the rosary. It was a lifesaver! I couldn’t pray the rosary without listening to it. The trauma was so great I had a difficult time concentrating, so listening was much easier. And as I listened to the meditations, I started to understand even more how Mary understood my pain and how she wanted to help me through this.
But that first year I struggled. I had so much to deal with, single parenting and helping my kids deal with their grief, returning to work, keeping my husband’s company afloat. The community and my friends were amazing. But I still hurt so bad. Boy did I cry, at night, at Mass. I tried to keep myself even busier or distracted with books, movies, glass of wine/dinner with friends, volunteering. But that hole in my heart was still there.
Over time, listening to the daily rosary, Mary’s “magic” (which I now recognize as grace) started to work. I realized the hole in my heart could only be filled by God. I dug in with renewed energy to understand my beautiful Catholic faith. I finally turned the steering wheel over to Jesus.
What I love most about our Catholic faith is the enormous toolbox (credit to my new husband, Michael, for that analogy) that Christ has given us to draw closer to him and keep our car’s engine finely tuned. I dug into every drawer in this toolbox: the sacraments, the Bible, the saints, Catholic books and podcasts, small faith groups, retreats, pilgrimages, Relevant Radio, and the graces poured out. I understood the state of my soul, likening it to a honeycomb where sin had left me with so many holes, but then understood how the graces received, especially during Communion and reconciliation, filled those holes with Jesus’ sweet honey of mercy and love. The greatest gift of our Catholic faith are those moments after Communion, fully receiving our Lord, allowing ourselves to be overwhelmed by his gift of self. I used to come back from Communion and quickly turn to the hymnal to sing along. Now, I close my eyes and quietly submerge myself in the grace of that moment.
Time in adoration led me to the writing and recording at Relevant Radio of the Widow’s Rosary, which was reviewed by multiple priests and Bishop (Andrew) Cozzens. It has meditations on each mystery unique to a widow’s journey of grief. It is available as four separate songs or podcasts on Apple’s iTunes (podcasts free, songs minimal charge) and I encourage all to share this with a widow you know to help her in her grief journey.
My other favorite tools? Father Jacques Philippe’s book “Searching for and Maintaining Peace” is one of my essential spiritual guides, which helped me understand/desire pureness of heart and what I call the supernatural possibilities of our faith that result when we prioritize God over the world. Relevant Radio and Laudate are my daily go-to apps for listening to audio prayers (rosary, Divine Mercy Chaplet), daily readings and continued understanding of our beautiful faith. I’ll never forgot a few years ago in one of my small faith book clubs, a young mom exclaimed “I never heard of this before, why don’t we talk more about it?”
That’s a good question. Unfortunately, it’s because ol’ hairy legs (Patrick Madrid’s title for Satan) likes to keep us too busy to spend time understanding our faith. One blessing of COVID-19 was I spent the first year (it’s a tough read, four volumes, but extremely worth it) reading “Mystical City of God” by Venerable Mary of Agreda, from which I gained a new appreciation for both the depth of Mary’s humility and holiness and the on-going deliberate and relentless efforts of ol’ hairy legs to separate all of us from God and rob us of our peace.
One parting story to share as I’m double the 500 words this reflection was supposed to be. Back to the Pieta image the day my husband died, which is also the CD cover for the Widow’s Rosary. In 2015, I joined the WINE group on a pilgrimage to Italy (FYI, Kelly Wahlquist has another one planned for October 2023) with my daughter Maddie. On the day we visited St. Patrick’s Cathedral, our tour guide, Liz Lev, was speaking to us through earphones. The space was filled with thousands of pilgrims, and I heard Lev say “this is amazing” as the crowd just opened up a path and our small group walked right up to the Pieta. I was able to stand in front of the statue and pray, truly overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Thank you, Mother Mary! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you for this beautiful universal Catholic Church and its powerful communion of saints!
And that, my dear friends, is why I am Catholic.
Fox Schaefer, 57, a member with her husband, Michael, of St. Joseph in West St. Paul, works in financial services. They have three children and an infant grandchild. A baptism and confirmation catechist, trustee and Women at the Well leader at St. Elizabethan Ann Seton in Hastings before moving to Mendota Heights in 2018, she likes biking, downhill and cross-country skiing, and taking semi-annual trips to the Boundary Waters.
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