Oct 5 – Memorial for St. Faustina Kowalska, Virgin, religious, Christian Mystic
Maria Faustyna Kowalska (born Helena Kowalska; 25 August 1905 – 5 October 1938), also known as Saint Maria Faustyna Kowalska of the Blessed Sacrament and popularly spelled Faustina, was a Polish Roman Catholic nun and mystic. Her apparitions of Jesus Christ inspired the Roman Catholic devotion to the Divine Mercy and earned her the title of “Secretary of Divine Mercy”.
Throughout her life, Kowalska reported having visions of Jesus and conversations with him, which she noted in her diary, later published as The Diary of Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska: Divine Mercy in My Soul. Her biography, submitted to the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, quoted some of the conversations with Jesus regarding the Divine Mercy devotion.
At the age of 20 years, she joined a convent in Warsaw. She was later transferred to Płock and then to Vilnius, where she met Father Michał Sopoćko, who was to be her confessor and spiritual director, and who supported her devotion to the Divine Mercy. With this priest’s help, Kowalska commissioned an artist to paint the first Divine Mercy image, based on her vision of Jesus. Father Sopoćko celebrated Mass in the presence of this painting on Low Sunday, also known as the Second Sunday of Easter or (as established by Pope John Paul II), Divine Mercy Sunday.
The Catholic Church canonized Kowalska as a saint on 30 April 2000. The mystic is classified in the liturgy as a virgin and is venerated within the church as the “Apostle of Divine Mercy”. Her tomb is in Divine Sanctuary, Kraków-Łagiewniki, where she spent the end of her life and met confessor Józef Andrasz, who also supported the message of mercy.
- Wikipedia
Job 42:1-3,5-6,12-17
Lk 10:17-24
I know that you are all-powerful: what you conceive, you can perform.
Today’s first reading brings us to the conclusion of Job’s story. In these final verses, we witness Job’s last words and last days, reflecting on the immense suffering he endured. For context, Job was once a prosperous and wealthy man, surrounded by a loving family. But God allowed Satan to test him, leading to the slow destruction of everything Job held dear—his family, his fortune, and even his health. His wife lost faith in him, and his friends turned against him. Stripped of everything that once brought him comfort, Job found himself tested to the very core. Yet, despite the unimaginable pain, Job never let go of his faith. His suffering was not a result of personal sin, nor was it caused by the wickedness of humanity. Still, Job wrestled with sorrow, questioned his circumstances, but continued to trust in God’s greater plan.
For many of us, it’s easy to have faith when life is going well—when blessings seem endless, and we feel secure. But if we were to face the kind of adversity Job experienced—losing loved ones, watching our life’s work fall apart—how many of us could maintain the same steadfast faith? I often wonder if I could.
Job’s story calls me to reflect on how fragile my trust in God can be when faced with true hardship. When life feels like it’s crumbling, it’s difficult to see beyond the pain and confusion. And yet, today’s reading challenges us to rely on God’s plan, even in those dark times. Perhaps it is in those moments, when the floor beneath us seems to give way, that faith is not only most needed, but most transformative.
I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be hindered.
Looking back on my own life, I can now see that God has always been working behind the scenes; even in moments of setback, loss, and pain. There were times when I felt abandoned—when, despite all my prayers, sacrifices and efforts, I thought God had forgotten me. Anger clouded my heart, directed at those around me and even at God. But in hindsight, I realize that God was guiding me through that darkness, saving me from my own misguided ideals of what my life should look like. Some of the people I cherished were removed from my life, not as a punishment, but as part of His greater plan to lead me to where I am now.
Even in the bleakest moments, when it was hard to even get out of bed, I clung to what I called my ‘lousy’ prayer. It was far from perfect, but God, in His mercy, met me where I was. He sustained me and gently revealed that He couldn’t show me His full plan at once—my heart wouldn’t have been ready for it. Instead, He revealed His plans little by little, allowing me to grow in trust and understanding, like a child learning to walk.
I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike.
It’s no wonder that God’s messages are often revealed to children. Their hearts are open, unburdened by pride, or the need to control outcomes. In today’s Gospel, we are reminded that God often hides His truths from those who think they know it all, and reveals them to those with childlike faith. And so, as I reflect on both readings, I am reminded that while I may not always understand God’s plan, I can choose to trust in His goodness, as Job did, knowing that He can do all things and that His purpose will not be thwarted.
(Today’s OXYGEN by Geraldine Nah)
Prayer: Father, remove the barriers in my heart that keep me from fully trusting in You. Grant me the strength and resilience to remain steadfast in faith, even when doubts arise or I cannot see Your hand at work. Help me hold on to You tightly, especially in the difficult times when I struggle to understand Your plan. Shape me, mould me, and build me into the person You’ve called me to be, Father. Let my trust in You grow deeper with each challenge, knowing You are always by my side.
Thanksgiving: Thank you, Jesus, for meeting me exactly where I am, especially in the dark and difficult moments when my faith faltered. You sustained me even when I couldn’t see it, gently guiding me through the storms of life. Thank you for your patience, for being so tender with me as I slowly learned to trust and understand Your ways. In every season, You have been there, walking with me, teaching me to let go of control, and allowing me to grow in faith at a pace my heart could handle.
OXYGEN 
Leave a comment