The Black Madonna

Story says…The Black Madonna was painted by St. Luke The Evangelist; and it was while painting the picture, Mary told him about the life of Jesus, which he later incorporated into his gospel. The next time we hear of the painting is in 326 A.D. when St. Helen found it in Jerusalem and gave it to her son and had a shrine built for it in Constantinople. Finally, it was transferred to a church in Czestochowa, Poland. There, The Black Madonna (Matka Boska) was acclaimed Queen of Poland by King Casimir. In many places, through several owners, during battles and sieges, her presence is reported to have protected her faithful. There have been stories for centuries of miraculous events surrounding those who made the journey to see the portrait. It is known as “The Black Madonna” because of the soot residue that discolors the painting, which is the result of centuries of prayers offered with votive lights and candles burning in front of the painting….
Confirmation of the power of prayer!
In His Son’s name, our Father hears every whisper!
Please whisper loudly for Philip and Bobby this week....
I pray them blessing enough, B

HE LOVES ME HE LOVES ME NOT? OF COURSE……HE DOES! John 3:16
Remember when as little girls, we used to search for just the right flower, then with great care remove the petals and go through this silly little ritual?
How many petals does it take to understand we are loved and that it has nothing to do with searching or chance, if we really open our eyes?
Believe me; I’ve picked a few flowers in my life, looking for someone to love me.

The most life changing, but not the first, I didn’t wait to go through all the petals. I just assumed it would end with he loved me, I WAS WRONG and I had a hard time dropping that flower to the ground...It took years in fact!

Another, my very first, I found earlier in life as it was beginning to bloom and in my immaturity I threw it aside; only to pick it up again just before it had wilted, hoping to bring it back to life. Then as its last petal was about to fall at he loves me, I looked over my shoulder and let it slip through my fingers, never to find it again!

The craziest one I ever picked was so breathtakingly beautiful and full, it was almost unbelievable and when I began to drop the petals, I sadly and devastatingly realized, it wasn’t a flower at all, but a dangerous weed!

And last but not at all least, the final flower I ever picked and still hold in my hand…

I pull petals off daily and it puts on more, I forget to water it yet it never wilts; I change with the seasons but it doesn’t; I even mow over it, it grows back stronger. It is definitely a perennial….Imagine that, HE LOVES ME!
Only God knows why??? and thank goodness he loves me too, no petal pulling needed…
b