Nancy Fehner

@EdsPurgatory Congrats and blessings, Ed!! 🎉🙏

Its a boy! Ronan Joseph 8 lbs 6.6 Oz Born at 642am today!

“Satan wants to rule where Jesus lived.” — Cardinal Pizzaballa

@FredSimonTLM Love that rustic vibe, especially the brick floor 🥰

Nothing beats the old homestead.

ANA KASPARIAN: “Trump’s chief of staff, Susie Wiles, was literally Benjamin Netanyahu’s campaign manager. It’s a HUGE problem.” Israeli assets have infiltrated every aspect of the United States government. Go off, queen. 👑

JUST IN: In a statement signed by Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa, The Assembly of Catholic Ordinaries of the Holy Land confirms attacks by the IDF on Christians are not isolated incidents but many. He expressed its "profound indignation and unreserved condemnation of the desecration of a representation of Jesus Crucified by an Israeli soldier in a Lebanese village." "This act constitutes a grave affront to the Christian faith and adds to other reported incidents of desecration of Christian symbols by IDF soldiers in southern Lebanon."

The Annunciation, Helena Vurnik, 1915

The Priest Who Confessed Carlo Acutis Revealed What He Predicted and It's Difficult to Believe🇻🇦🧵 (1/2) “Carlo reached through the confessional screen and stopped my shaking hand. It was 11:34 p.m. on October 11, 2006, in room 307 at San Gerardo Hospital in Monza, and I had just slipped my resignation letter into my jacket pocket, certain I would leave the priesthood the moment his funeral was over. My name is Father Antonio Ferrari. I am 72 years old now, and for 47 years I have worn the Roman collar, heard confessions, buried the dead, and stood at altars while families tried to believe God was still in the room. But there was one night when I was no longer sure He was anywhere at all. I had known Carlo Acutis since he was five. In catechism, other boys watched the clock. Carlo watched the tabernacle. Other children asked when class would end. Carlo asked things like: “Father, why did Jesus choose bread for the Eucharist and not something harder to ignore?” He did not ask like a child showing off. He asked like someone trying to get closer to a Person. For ten years, from the time he was old enough to examine his conscience seriously until he lay dying at fifteen, I was his confessor. Every two weeks, like clockwork, he came. His sins were never dramatic. A burst of impatience with his younger brother. Pride after praise for his computer work. A rosary rushed instead of prayed. He confessed the way a man polishes silver before presenting it to a king. By October 2006, I was the opposite. I was spiritually dry. Mechanically faithful. Publicly intact. Internally hollow. For months, my sermons had felt like paper in my mouth. I celebrated Mass with exact rubrics and no fire. I prayed and felt nothing but the room around me. I was a priest whose soul had gone numb inside his own vocation. That night, before Antonio Salzano called me to the hospital, I had written the letter. ‘Your Excellency, after prayer and long suffering, I believe I must step aside...’ It lay folded in my inside pocket when I entered room 307. The room smelled of antiseptic, candle wax from a small blessed candle near the window, and a faint trace of roses that did not belong in any hospital room. Carlo was thin, pale, eaten by leukemia, but his eyes were awake. Clear. Almost relieved when he saw me. “Father Antonio,” he said softly. “Thank you for coming. I needed to see you before I go.” His parents stepped back. I pulled the chair near the bed. The monitor clicked out his remaining hours in thin green light. “I’m here, Carlo.” He swallowed once, then smiled. “I need to confess. But first, I need to tell you something about your future.” I almost interrupted him. Not out of impatience. Out of pain. He was fifteen. He was dying. And somehow he was worried about me. “Carlo, let’s focus on you.” He shook his head. “No, Father. This matters. You’ve been thinking of leaving the priesthood, haven’t you?” The blood drained from my face. No one knew that. Not my bishop. Not my brother priests. Not a single living soul. My fingers tightened on the stole in my lap. “How do you know that?” “God showed me.” He said it with terrible simplicity. “Last night in prayer, I saw you at your desk. The letter. Your hand stopping three times before you folded it. The pain in your chest. The way you think silence means abandonment.” The room went colder. Not gradually. Suddenly. I saw my own breath for one brief second in the air above my hands. Carlo turned his head toward the far corner of the room, as if someone had entered without opening the door. His face changed. Not fear. Recognition. “They’re here,” he whispered. I followed his gaze. I saw nothing. Just the chair with Antonia’s coat over the back, the dim wall lamp, the shadow of the IV stand. But the air had shifted. Every hair on my forearms rose. The room felt full. “Who’s here?” I asked. “Saint John Vianney,” Carlo said. “He’s smiling at you.”

She finds Gregorian chant UNSETTLING? 🤔 Fr. Ripperger, Exorcist: “Gregorian chant really does bother the demons. It annoys them…the impact is significant…”

@GeneralMCNews It’s not April 1st

@FredSimonTLM @Breaking911 @On_This_Hill First thought that came to my mind too 😳

@Breaking911 @On_This_Hill Like a plague?

Tens of thousands of bees have suddenly swarmed across parts of Israel, prompting authorities to warn residents and shop owners to keep doors and windows closed.

Protestants who say the pope has no jurisdiction in the U.S. have no objection to Jews running our foreign policy. Catholics, as @CarriePrejean1 pointed out, have had enough of this hypocritical double standard.

I ask for prayers. I have been under some oppression of the enemy. The evil one can do a lot to turn people against us, foment division and bring turmoil. Then my secretary quit and 2 cooks resigned and an aide quit. The Sister assigned to take over got sick requiring rest. I began to worry how we can manage. The fire was an added worry, but I'm just so so grateful the Sisters got out alive, I don't care about the damages. Tonight, what overtakes me is the Te Deum. I was found worthy to share some heavy crosses. Sursum corda, Mary Joseph. God is on the move.

Every Christian leader should demand the public repentance of President Donald Trump for his blasphemies before he presumes to rededicate our country to “God” on May 17, 2026. Until he does so, we want NO PART with whatever “God” he is dedicating the nation to. It should be boycotted completely, absent repentance. “When you spread forth your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.” —Isaiah 1:15

@FredSimonTLM Looks that way to me

Are they shutting down the media?

BLASPHEMY.

A baby’s first moments remind us of love, purity, and the endless beauty of new beginnings. Every smile, every breath, every touch a reminder that life itself is a precious gift. 👶✨

Michelangelo was only 23 when he carved the Pietà. More than 500 years later, it still feels impossible. Has any sculptor ever created something more beautiful than this?

@FmrRepMTG @ky_statesman Same 👍🏼

Countless numbers of people have died from the COVID vaccines. Many live with vaccine injuries. Women have had miscarriages. Their FDA approval must be revoked and they need to be entirely taken off the market. I had Covid early in March of 2020, was only sick a few days. I never took the vaccine because the vaccine risks was much higher than the actual virus.

I believe so