We are almost at the end of this Holy Year, the year of Mercy. For me, it has really been a time of Grace, a great gift. A time of change. I often think about how, especially in these last months, I have been helped to realize and to be more aware of, my real need for mercy from God and from people.

I remember some confessions of this past year, in which I had become particularly aware of the greatness and beauty of this Sacrament. There, in front of a specific face, I could leave the worst of me, and hear that I was loved and forgiven. I could hear this from a voice that was not mine. This is the experience that Mercy is a real face; it's objective. As with Peter, after my mistakes, Jesus only asks me to love Him. I remember my tears of gratitude in those confessionals for such a great love, so not deserved. And a sense of peace and freedom.

In these last months, with the help of the Movement and the circumstances, my relationship with Christ has become deeper and more familiar. As a consequence, my daily relationships with those He puts close to me has become truer, more human, more tender, and less heavy with measure. I have been helped to verify that reality is a great ally in becoming more certain. In everyday facts, circumstances, and in given faces there is always the possibility to discover how much Christ loves me. He doesn't ask for me to be good; He loves me as I am, imperfect as I am, with my little heart.
He loves me before my change.

This doesn't scandalize me anymore because I understood that my sin is the space in which He manifests His Glory. He is patient and to Him my poor—but ever more certain yes—is enough.

Last Sunday, with all the communities from Minnesota, we gathered in St. Paul for our Pilgrimage. I was really looking forward to it. We met in the chapel of the Seminary of St. Thomas University and after singing and listening to a beautiful introduction of Fr. Jerry, we started our walk on the streets of downtown, heading to the Cathedral. We were around 150 people of all ages. We walked for four miles, saying the Rosary and listening to brief meditations about Mercy. As I was following, I was looking around me: it was a beautiful day, the sky was clear. We were walking in the the warm, soft, golden light of the sun, the trees were beautifully colored by autumn. We went through the most beautiful neighborhoods in downtown St. Paul and I was looking at my husband's face, at my kids, at my people, my journey friends. I was full of gratitude for all this overwhelming goodness. While we were walking, most of the passers stopped from their activities and were looking at us with a sort of respect. In those moments I was thinking about our witness in front of the world, thinking of Who is most dear in our lives.

While I was listening to Fr. Jerry saying the Our Father, "...Your kingdom come..," I thought that His kingdom is already here. Here it is. In this precise moment around me. The possibility of a real friendship with Jesus that translates into the relationships between us, generates a new, a different humanity. His kingdom.

When we arrived at the Cathedral, some friends and the rector of the Cathedral were waiting for us in the Church square. The rector rang the bells and warmly welcomed us, saying that he was very grateful for our gesture and for the presence of the Movement in the diocese.

Together we prayed and crossed the threshold of the Holy Door and then Fr. Jerry celebrated Mass. I went back home full of joy, gratitude, and hope. Humbled by His gifts, humbled by being so preferred.

Raffaella, Minnesota, USA