St. Jude, Patron Saint of the Impossible

Have you ever taken one of those psychological profile tests with questions like "Would you rather be lost in a huge scrap-booking warehouse or take your demented grandmother to the carnival?"  Both sound like horrific nightmares to me. I once had to take a Causality Dilemma Test to prove I wasn't mentally ill.  It was kind of fun.  I put my eye makeup on my lips and my lipstick on my eyes and didn't use any hair gel.  I figured if they think I'm a nut case, lets go with that.  It was one of those tests that asks the type of questions where there is no right answer.  You want to say, ":Whoa, I wouldn't be in that situation to begin with.  Would I rather have a fatal car accident or unknowingly drink strychnine?  Yes, please!".   The questions are annoying at best and you are going to sound like you're on a day pass from the asylum regardless of your answer. Ask me something I know for sure like..."Would you rather be dead or continue taking this test?"  Dilemmas are what make you look for answers elsewhere.

St. Jude Holy Card from Chris Hart Studio

St. Jude is the Patron Saint of the Impossible, hopeless cases, lost souls and lost causes.  That brings the saddest of the sad out of the woodwork to ask him for help.  People who have no job and are losing their family's home, those who have suffered illness and injury for which there is no recovery,  people who are caught in financial, emotional or physical dilemmas that seemingly have no solution and those who have lost their soul because of the destruction of personal relationships.    

I have a crush on St. Jude (not to be confused with the traitor Judas).  First of all, he is often portrayed as a big handsome guy who wears robes and seems to have a strong sense of self.  Very little is known about him historically.   He's a quiet man who does nice things for people in need.  That's my kind of guy.  As a matter of fact, he has done more for the downtrodden since his death than when he was alive.  He is often shown with a flame shooting out of his head, a symbol of the Holy Spirit and sometimes he is holding a club, the symbol of his martyrdom.  I dated a club carrying guy with flames shooting out of his head but he was no saint.  

When my mother broke her right hip at 98, it was a challenge.  Getting her through it was doable with dedication to her care and extensive rehab but when she shattered her left pelvis 4 months later, her raw animal pain was more than I could bear. I was told she could only be released to a nursing home with no hope of recovery.  I decided to bring her home to die. The only way to relieve her pain was to be flat on her back in a traction device her grandson invented.  If there is a hell on earth, this was it for sure.  She was bathed, changed and fed all while keeping her pelvis supported in the same flat position, stabilized by a rope and a bag of rocks hanging off the end of the bed.  Hospice was brought in to keep her comfortable.  I was told that it was impossible to recover from this kind of break at her age.  We could look forward to having complications like infections, bedsores or pneumonia.  The question on this insanity test was..."Would you rather your mother died now, her last memory of life on earth the angst of horrific pain or would you prefer she take her time calmly dying from nasty bedsore infections which finally invade her entire body?"  
   

 I was deeply effected by her pain.  It was truly a hopeless case. Then I remembered years ago chuckling at my mother for putting a classified ad in the newspaper thanking St. Jude for interceding on behalf of a dear friend who had a terminal illness.  As the helper of the hopeless, St. Jude asks us to persevere no matter how harsh or difficult our circumstances seem.  You see, St. Jude is one of the most powerful intercessors with the Divine.  He has the private number for the hot line  to the Almighty. So I asked St. Jude for his help in delivering my mother from this impossible situation.  I didn't deny that death was imminent. I asked that she be allowed to live her last days without pain and die in peace and then I let go of trying to control the impossible.
.    

St. Jude Statue from Chris Hart Studio

 It felt like I was playing a slot machine for miracles, pouring in the prayers, hoping the cherries lined up. Some weeks later, Hospice told me my mother no longer met their criteria for care.  Instead she was showing signs of thriving.  She wanted to sit up and eat breakfast. She was worried about filling the hummingbird feeder.  Couldn't simply being 99 years old be defined as a terminal condition but who's to argue with Medicare?  

The real gift from St. Jude is that when you ask for his intercession you free yourself from the feeling of  hopelessness, opening the path for what is yet to come. You may not even recognize the answer right away. You must be willing to accept the outcome, find relief in handing over your hopelessness and believe what happens is always what was meant to happen.

My mom died comfortably at 101 of old age, no infections, illnesses or pain.  When cleaning her bedroom after her death, I found a slip of paper. This was what she printed  in the newspaper years ago.  "O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, to honor you and gratefully encourage devotion by telling others of your holy intercession. You came to my aide during the darkest of times. I ask that you continue to watch over me and all who invoke your aid. Amen"