Seeking Notre Dame: My trip to Lourdes

 B
onsoir mes chers amis.  I apologize for the delay, but it has been a crazy week trying to get everything prepared for my 16 day European adventure!  A preview for anyone who is interested: a few days on the beach in Nice, a day trip to Monaco, exploring Florence complete with a 8 hour bike trip/wine tasting/oil tasting, Easter in Rome, laying on a beach/snorkeling in Malta, and finishing off break with some wonderful ND kids in London!  I cannot describe how excited I am, but I first must pack and print 28353 boarding passes. Lovely.

But this weekend was not too shabby either as I fulfilled my ND dream of seeing the real Grotto in Lourdes.  Before I get too deep into my emotional and spiritual quest, the trip there is worth describing. [Side note: this post is going to be a doozy—really long so prepare yourself].  Kaitlin and I boarded our first train with our baguette and yogurt in hand, ready for a 6.5 hour trek to Lourdes.  Train one went splendidly and we got off in St. Pierre feeling confident about the rest of our adventure.  We noticed the second train was running five minutes late but it seemed to come quickly enough.  An hour into our trip they made an announcement that we had somehow gone from being five minutes late to 20+ minutes late, posing a huge problem since we would be cutting it very close to our connecting train to Lourdes.  As the train pulled into the next station, we sent a few prayers up to God, Mary, Bernadette, whoever would help us get to Lourdes, but to no avail.  Standing on the platform in Angouleme (..yeah I’ve never heard of it either), we didn’t really know what the best option was.  I asked a small, old conductor (because those are the least creepy) when the next train to Lourdes was, to which he yelled “GET ON THIS TRAIN NOW!” and pointed to a new train.  As I sputtered, “But I don’t have tickets! Where is this going?  This doesn’t go to Lourdes,” he pushed me onto the train and kept repeating “you need to get on this now.”  He must have seen my indecisiveness and concern, and instead interpreted it as me not understanding French well enough.  Wrong.  Anyway, we then proceeded to have a 40 second conversation in a mix of French and English about how I could take this train to Bordeaux and then possibly catch the original.  With no other real ideas and with the prospect of brooding over a good bottle of wine, Kaitlin and I sat down on a random train, in the middle of France, with no tickets. 

Once in Bordeaux, we asked yet another SNCF employee how to get to Lourdes.  We soon found out we could not, in fact, get to Lourdes from Bordeaux.  We needed to go another stop to Dax (I really wished I had taken French geography at this point).  We somehow ended up in first class and rode merrily along to Dax while the conductor made announcements to “the passengers trying to get to Lourdes” telling us our train was waiting for us—VIP treatment I know.  Alas, our prayers were answered in this little town in the Pays Basque and we boarded our original train to Lourdes!  What an adventure. 

The next morning we woke up and opened our shutters (I love shutters) to discover that our patio looked out over the Pyrennes—something we had clearly missed in our late shuffle in the night before.  We headed towards centre-ville and grabbed a cup of coffee—a FULL cup of coffee in a LARGE cup!  Imagine my joy as I sipped from this giant cup on a terrace overlooking the Pyrennes in 70 degree weather.  Utter bliss.

But alas, we had things to do!  We stopped at a small religious shop for empty bottles to collect holy water and a long lecture on Catholicism and psychology from a small, crazy French woman, and then headed towards the grounds of the Grotto.

This is where I need to interject and tell you the story of Lourdes.  In 1858, 14 year old Bernadette Soubirous was collecting firewood in the forest when a beautiful woman dressed in white robes with a blue rope appeared to her.  This woman later revealed herself as the “Immaculate Conception.”  Though authorities prohibited Bernadette from returning to the scene, she did, and was told by the apparition to dig a hole in the ground, in which she found a spring.  This spring is now known for its healing powers and is said to create miraculous cures (our director in Angers insists that he was cured from brain cancer only after bathing in the holy water at Lourdes).  Today, thousands of people traverse the world in search of this water and the holy powers of this spiritual place.  And thus, I arrived, plastic bottles in hand, not searching for a miracle per se, but hoping to find a community and faith at work.  Ask and you shall receive, I suppose.

When you enter the grounds of the Grotto, you come upon a giant building slightly resembling the Disney World castle, only to discover it is in fact three churches stacked upon each other.  The bottom is a beautiful and cheerful church decorated with massive, shimmering mosaics depicting the mysteries of the rosary.  The second floor is a completely different atmosphere.  You enter through a small, dark passage, and stumble upon a small shrine for St. Bernadette, complete with relics from her body.  There, I discovered a beautiful prayer to Bernadette, asking for the generosity, confidence, and patience she possessed to surrender herself to God.  The quest for complete surrender and God’s call became the main things I meditated upon for the rest of the day along with the question, how do we quiet our hearts and prepare them for God’s mission in our everyday chaos?  I can’t say I have an answer, but it is certainly something I am searching for and something that I believe some spirit tried to guide me towards that day.  As I sat in the dark chapel, goosebumps covered my arms and my heart was beating as fast as if I had just run several miles.  I believe some spirit was running through my body, trying to push me in the right direct.  Why these precious moments occurred in the most modest location in this town, I do not know.  Drying our eyes, Kaitlin and I stumbled back into daylight and then quickly ascended to the third cathedral.  After a few minutes, we left and found a café with a terrace where we could eat lunch.  We then wandered through the town with ice cream cones in hand, and eventually ended up back at the grounds where we filled our water bottles (you never know when you will need a miracle) and then visited the actual Grotto. 

Like I said, I was not looking for a miracle that day—I have so many blessings and cannot, in good conscience, ask God for more than what he has already generously given me.  So I kissed the rocks and prayed and had a moment there, but what was most beautiful to me was seeing the people who really did need a miracle, and they were the ones I prayed for.  People came in wheel chairs and walkers and stumbling through the line, grasping the rocks with all the strength and faith left in their bodies.  It was heart wrenchingly beautiful to see that much faith.

There was one middle aged man who clearly had both a mental and muscular shortcoming, and who was accompanied by his middle aged mother.  As he staggered through the lines, his petite mother held him up with unbelievable strength.  As they neared the end of the rock formation, drops of water trickled down the rocks.  She caught them in her hands and started rubbing his face and arms, praying for a miraculous end to his suffering.  And so went person after person, praying for something different, but praying nonetheless.  If you ever need to see a community of believers, Lourdes is the place to go.

We finally left and went to find the Stations of the Cross.  We found them on a large hill, and you ascended as you did each station.  The view of the town and mountains and the natural beauty of this area of the world made the experience that much more special—definitely worth doing, though I would recommend not wearing flats to do it. 

Later that evening we returned to the grounds for a candlelit rosary procession which was given in five alternating languages.  I understood 2/5, meaning a large portion of the evening was kind of a blur to me, but it was nice to share that experience with people of all different nationalities and walks of life.  It was really windy, so sadly our candles did not stay lit for very long, but it was a really nice metaphorical action to share our light with one another by lighting each other’s candles over and over again.

After a final prayer and leaving lit candles at the Grotto for our loved ones, we scurried home and got in bed with a glass of wine and a good movie.  The weekend in Lourdes was definitely one of my favorites thus far.  It was one of the most beautiful places I have ever been and you can’t help but feel God and the Virgin Mother in everything around you.  After a weekend there, my life is in perspective and my blessings are so obvious.  I am so lucky and so grateful for my friends, family, and all the opportunities I am given.  So to all of you: Je vous aime. Vous me manquez. Et je prie pour vous tous les jours. (I love you. I miss you.  And I am praying for you every day.)  xoxo

[Someone remind me to put up photos when I return from break!]