Chapter 52: Grace Like Rain

St. Andrew the Apostle Catholic Church, London, Ontario

9:12am, Sunday, March 11, 1979

“So there’s a lot of stand-up, kneel, and sit-down stuff, huh?” Lynette asked me as we walked along the concrete walkway beside the curved outer wall of my church, St. Andrew the Apostle, in Northeast London.

“Yeah, but don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll be right there and I won’t leave you hanging about what to do. Also, there’s prayer missals, which can help you follow along with what is going on and what is going to happen next,” I replied as we swung our hands together on the walk from the rear parking area.

Lynette looked stunning in her hunter green dress, which had small white stars randomly placed over her bosom area and then again on the flowing skirt area. She cinched the dress to her slender waist with a two inch white belt and completed her outfit with a small white, mini-jacket, which was held together with a single black button. A pair of peach colored pumps with two inch heels put the finishing touches on her wonderful ensemble. A subtle touch of light green eye shadow on her upper eye lids and peach lip-gloss complimented her outfit. Lastly, her long mass of blonde hair was skillfully put up in a pony-tail, held there by a matching peach scrunchy.

Because I didn’t have a change of clothes with me at the Robertson’s house, I looked like a relative bum compared to Lynette. Thankfully, I was able to borrow one of her dad’s fresh polo shirts to go with my multiple day worn blue jeans, and grungy red canvas, low-top Chuck Taylor basketball shoes. Lastly, I smelled as good as Lynette looked because Mrs. R gave me a spritz of her husband’s Paul Sebastian cologne as we left their home.

I wasn’t surprised in the least that we were basically ambushed by the Masciotro sisters, Eda and Lisa as soon as we walked through the side entrance and into the vestibule area at the rear of the church.

“Oh! My! God! Mike!” Eda cried as she and her younger sister rushed over and took ahold of Lynette’s hands before we were five feet inside the church.

“You never said your new girlfriend was drop-dead, model gorgeous!” Lisa exclaimed as she playfully gave me a punch on my right shoulder.

“Yeah, saying she’s just, ‘relatively tall, slender and pretty’ was a total understatement, Mike,” Eda added as she pulled my blushing girlfriend away from me and led her towards a group of our friends waiting along the glass window by the main front entrance. Eda looked lovely in her multi-colored flowered blouse and tanned slacks. She was fifteen, soon to be sixteen-years-old, and stood about five feet, four inches, at one-hundred and twelve pounds with curly, dirty-blonde hair. She was a major extrovert and never met a stranger.

“By the way, I’m Lisa, Lisa Masciotro, and this is my older, bolder sister, Eda,” Lisa said as she quickly took Lynette’s other hand on the way over to the group of seven friends.

Lisa, who shared my birthday, was fourteen-years-old with the face and body of a Greek Goddess. Lisa was slightly more self-conscious of her appearance than her older sister because her physical development occurred much earlier and more abundantly. Her nickname was ‘Brickhouse’ from the Commodores’ number one hit of the same name.

The only problem with that nickname in describing Lisa was the need to adjust the lyrics to:

“34DD-21-34, What a winning hand!”

Lisa was a little taller than her sister at five feet eight inches and weighted one-hundred and one pounds. As expected, she wore one of her older brother’s baggy Montcalm High School sweatshirts, in order to downplay the size of her bosom.

Both Masciotro girls were athletic, playing volleyball and softball at their schools and on the St. Andrew’s youth sport teams. Eda was the starting setter on her high school’s junior varsity team in the ninth grade and played first base for her club team, and our youth, coed church team. Lisa was an outside hitter on her elementary school volleyball team and played second base on her sister’s club team, and the youth coed team. In addition, both girls were good musicians, and played in a youth band at our church. Eda sang and played the drums, while Lisa sang and played the bass guitar, as well as an electric guitar on an occasional song.

“A thousand apologies,” I said as I stepped up behind the three young girls. “This beautiful young lady is Lynette Robertson, and...”

“Yeah, yeah, we figured that out since you’ve only talked about her every time we’ve seen you here this past month,” Eda sharply interjected with a conniving grin on her face.

“We’ll take over the introductions from here, Mike,” Lisa added as she turned her head back at me and gave me a wink.

“Well, ex ... cuuuuse ... me!” I replied in my best Steve Martin voice, and then reached forward to give both the Masciotro girls a quick dig in their rear rib area.

“Oh, God! Mike! Don’t do that!” Eda shouted as she nearly jumped out of her black flats at my unexpected ‘gotcha’.

On cue, I was fully prepared for Lisa’s cat quick retaliation counter-attack. When she turned and attempted to jab my sides, I easily took control of her wrists, and then lifted her arms up and spun the younger Masciotro girl around before pulling her back against my body in a ‘straight-jacket’ like bear-hug.

“Michael!” Lisa squealed out loud as she squirmed around, trying to escape my clutches.

“He’s a pretty tough nut to attack, isn’t he?” Lynette said as she took in the hijinks in my church’s vestibule area.

“He sure is,” Lisa groaned out as she upped her efforts to escape.

I laughed at the girls’ comments but then quickly cried out, “Sweet Lord!” and released my grip on Lisa’s wrists as my right foot suddenly throbbed in pain from Lisa’s sudden stomp on my toes.

“Hey! What’s going on over there?” Father Marcel LeBeouf bellowed as he walked out of the hallway from his residence to the main entrance to the church.

“Not much, Father Beef,” Connie Duynesvelt, a friend of mine from my days at St. Patrick’s Elementary school replied to our parish priest using the youth’s nickname for our beloved pastor.

“Seeing Mike hopping around on one foot doesn’t seem like ‘not much’,” he replied as he walked over to our small group of youth.

“He deserved the foot stomp I gave him, Father Beef,” Lisa said with a smile. “He goosed E and me, and then he tried to hold me still when I tried to get him back. So I did the only thing I could think of to break free.”

“So basically, if there’s no blood or broken bones, there’s no foul, huh?” Father LeBeouf stated with a grin on his face. He then zeroed in on the newcomer to our group and added, “So, this is the lovely and talented, Ms. Lynette that I’ve heard so much about from Mike’s mom and sister. I’m Marcel LeBeouf, the parish priest here at St. Andrew. It is wonderful to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, everyone, actually,” Lynette responded and shared a solid handshake with Father LeBeouf. “I’m a, uh, I’m a little nervous about being here at Mike’s church, but...”

“We won’t embarrass you too much, Lynette,” Eda offered as she wrapped her arms around my girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Eda, Lisa, you’re not going to like this,” Anthony Masciotro, the girls older brother called out as he hustled his way from the church’s sanctuary to our location. “Both Danielle and Cheryl have the flu and won’t be here this morning. I guess your group won’t be playing this morning, after all.”

Danielle Masciotro was a first cousin of Anthony, Eda, Lisa and young Michael Masciotro, and played guitar in their youth church group band and played catcher on the our coed softball team. Cheryl Sawa was the keyboardist in their youth group and a superb batter and defensive pitcher on our team.

“Oh! Man!” Eda dejectedly cried out at her brother’s pronouncement. “I was so looking forward to singing and playing this morning.”

“There’s always next Sunday,” Lisa glumly said as she folded her arms under her full breasts.

Just as Father LeBeouf started to say that it was okay for the girls to skip out of playing this morning, Lynette peered up at me with a twinkle in her eyes. I knew exactly what she had in mind. Being the visitor to our church, I also knew I had to be the one to share her idea with Eda and Lisa, as well as Father Beef.

“If, uh, if y’all don’t mind,” I basically interrupted my pastor. “I think Lynette and I might be able to take Danielle and Cheryl’s spots this morning. Lynette is a super keyboard player, and if you have the sheet music handy, I know she’ll be able to handle the keyboards for these songs.”

“Are you serious?” Eda asked as the sparkle returned to her brown eyes.

“Sure, I’m the accompanist for our school’s choirs,” Lynette proudly replied, “and, um, I’m also in Mike’s rock band. What songs are you playing this morning?”

“The first song is They’ll Know We Are Christians, and the second song is Amazing Grace. Do you know them?” Lisa replied.

“Everyone knows Amazing Grace, but I’m not familiar with that first song. Do you have a copy of the music? I can take a brief look at it, and I’m sure it won’t be too taxing to play semi-well.”

“The music is up on Cheryl’s keyboards. Come on, let’s go get it,” Eda excitedly said as she took a hold of Lynette’s hand.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Mike and Lynette?” Father LeBeouf asked as Eda tugged Lynette towards the sanctuary’s entrance.

“We’re happy to fill in and let these girls play here in church,” I responded with a smile. “If you don’t think Danielle will be upset with me playing her guitar, I’m sure things will go off without a hitch.”

“You can use my acoustic guitar, Mike,” Lisa said as she took my hand and began to pull me after her sister and my girlfriend. Lisa then added, “My guitar is better than Danielle’s, by the way.”

When the four of us got to the front of the church where the instruments were set up, I looked at Lynette who was intently studying the sheet music for They’ll Know We Are Christians. After twenty seconds of scanning the five pages of music, a smile crept over her beautiful face and I knew all was going to be good with that song.

I then huddled with the three girls and said, “We can play the first song like the music, like we always have heard it sung, ‘kay?” Both Eda and Lisa smiled and nodded their approval at my question.

I then turned to Lynette and mouthed to her, ‘Should I give them a boost in ability?’ I took Lynette’s subtle wink and smile as an affirmative response, and then said to all the girls, “Give me your hands, please.”

With the four of us in a small circle, a small amount of my Energist energy flowed into both Eda and Lisa, and they both glowed as their unknown Energists’ enhancement gift swept through their young bodies.

“Good Lord, I feel more relaxed and confident about playing in front of these people than I ever have felt before,” Lisa excitedly said as she giddily danced on the stage.

“Me, too,” Eda simply stated as she lightly tapped her drum sticks against her legs.

“That’s good,” I said as I winked at Lynette, who had a huge grin on her pretty face. “Now, let me up your anxiety levels a little bit, please.”

All three girls focused their full attention on me at my surprising words. “Instead of playing Amazing Grace like it normally is played, I’d like to play a different version of it, called Grace Like Rain. It’s a killer version and I think y’all will like playing it.”

(Note: Todd Agnew wrote this Christian song in 2003, and appears on his CD by the same name. I’ve seen Todd play about four times and his band is a top notch Christian rock/blues band.)

“But, Mike, we haven’t played anything but the regular version of Amazing Grace before,” Eda countered with a, ‘Deer in the headlights’ look on her face.

“Don’t worry, Eda, and you, too, Lisa,” Lynette said in a calm cool voice. “I, we’re, positive you’ll be able to play this new song perfectly. We all have a musical gift now, which allows us to do stuff like that. Right, Mike?”

“You’ll both be fine with the changes in the song,” I confidently said to the Masciotro sisters. I touched the back of their hands once more and added, “I’ll do a short introduction to Grace Like Rain, and play the first verse of the song. Once you feel good about the tempo and flavor of the song, I just know you’ll be able to join in with me and Lynette, and do a killer performance. Do you trust me on this, girls?”

“Yeah.” And “Definitely.” Lisa and Eda said simultaneously in soft, yet confident tones.

“Okay, then,” I said as I took Lynette’s hand and lead her back to the second row of pews off to the right of the large stage area in my church’s roundish sanctuary. We let Eda and Lisa take their seats, and then I guided Lynette in beside Lisa.

As we waited for the entry procession to take place, Lynette turned towards me and asked, “When are we supposed to play those two songs? We didn’t get a program that tells the order things like at my Kilworth Baptist Church.”

“There isn’t a ‘program’ per say like at most Baptist churches, Lynette,” I softly replied to her inquiry. “Ms. Maureen will play the entry music and then Father Beef will do an opening prayer. I’m pretty sure we’ll do our two songs shortly after that. Knowing Father Beef, he’ll invite us up to get ready and he’ll also make some sort of welcome announcement about you ... and me, filling in for Cheryl and Danielle in the youth band.”

“He’s really going to do that? Oh, God!”

“I doubt God is going to help you get out of this now, Sweetie.” Just then Ms. Maureen hit the keys on the grand organ for the processional music. I gave Lynette’s hand a slight squeeze and added, “We’re all in, now, Lava-Lips. We’re all in, now.”

“Oh, Dear Lord,” Lynette mumbled as she rested her head on my left shoulder.

As I predicted, after his general welcome and opening prayer, Father LeBeouf smiled over at the four of us and waved us up onto the altar-stage area where our instruments were located. While I let the three ladies walk ahead of me to our instruments, Father LeBeouf took his seat between the altar-boy and girl to our right.

He then said to the three-hundred and seventy-five people in the sanctuary, “We have an extra special treat this morning as our regular youth band has two new fill-in members. As you know, the flu is hitting our area pretty hard right now, and regular band members, Danielle Masciotro and Cheryl Sawa are at home resting with that pesky bug. It is my pleasure, however, to announce that Mike Nevins and his girlfriend, Lynette, uh, sorry; I forgot your last name, Lynette.”

“Robertson! Lynette Robertson,” Eda and Lisa excitedly said in unison into their microphones. I watched Lynette’s face turn a few shades redder as she stood behind Cheryl’s Casio PT-80 keyboard and adjusted the sheet music to They’ll Know We Are Christians song.

“Yes, sorry, Ms. Lynette Robertson, who is obviously going to be playing the keyboards for us this morning,” Father LeBeouf stated as he waved his left arm in our direction. “Without piling more onto her and the others’ plates, the first song they’ll be performing for us this morning is, They’ll Know We Are Christians.”

I clicked the on-switch to my microphone and turned towards Lynette and motioned for her to do the same, knowing she probably was too flummoxed to remember to do that simple action. After seeing her turn her mic on, I looked at Eda and nodded.

The dirty-blonde drummer immediately tapped her sticks together a few times and set a brisk beat for this well-known Catholic song. I wasn’t the least bit surprised at the harmonies Eda and Lisa created as they shared lead vocals on this song. When Lynette joined in on the chorus, both of the Masciotro girls turned to look at my girlfriend and gave her a warm, welcoming smile at her soft harmonious voice. I quickly decided to limit my vocal involvement in this song to allow the girls’ vocals to shine through on this up-tempo Christian song.

When we neared the end of this song, I peered at my three youth band mates to give them a knowing smile, which they correctly interpreted as a sign to replay the basic musical pattern, while I spiced up the melody with a brief jazzy offering on Lisa’s Ibanez acoustic guitar.

The large congregation, led by Father LeBeouf gave us a highly unusual round of applause at the conclusion of our first song. That raised both Lynette and my spirits as we were somewhat use to receiving recognition for our performances. I could tell, however, that both Eda and Lisa weren’t accustomed to this type of recognition, and were letting this novel experience interfere with their cognitive abilities.

I quickly decided to give the congregation a brief comment on our upcoming version of Amazing Grace. “Thank you for your appreciation of our honoring God for His goodness to us,” I said through my microphone. I then turned to Father LeBeouf and said, “If you don’t mind, Father, we’d like to perform a slightly different version of Amazing Grace for you, for everyone this morning. I’ve toyed with writing this song called, Grace Like Rain for some time, now. These new lyrics just seemed to spark something in me. So ... I’m praying right now that this song, Grace Like Rain, creates a God-inspired spark in you, too.”

After receiving a smile and slight nod of approval from Father Beef, I turned to the Masciotro girls and saw that they were more at ease now. I mouthed to all three girls, ‘Just relax and follow my lead, ready?‘

Three warm smiles let me know they were good to go, so I took a deep breath and began to softly pick out the haunting early notes, and gravelly sang:

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
And I once was lost but now I’m found,
Was blind, but now I see ... so clearly.

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.
Hallelujah, and all my stains are washed away.
They’re washed away.”

As I began to sing the chorus, “Hallelujah,...” my guitar playing and the tone of my vocals became more upbeat and positive. I absolutely loved how my three band members smartly joined in with their instruments as I repeated that last line in the chorus and continued with their excellent playing throughout the remainder to my song.

“‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.

And hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.
And hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, they’re washed away!“

I couldn’t keep myself from letting out a loud laugh when Lynette unexpectedly created a superb violin rift on her keyboards after the second chorus. Lynette’s creativity, especially on a novel keyboard system let me know that my girlfriend was a true musician. Her bout of creativity seemed to light a fire in both the Masciotro girls, as well. I could tell that they were feeling it from that point onward as we finished this song with more gusto than my large Catholic church had probably ever experienced.

“When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun.
We’ve no less days to sing Your praise
Than when we first begun.

And hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me.
And hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, they’re washed away.
And hallelujah
And hallelujah
And hallelujah

And hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, they’re washed away.”

I was surprisingly, emotionally spent at the conclusion of this song, and wasn’t cognizant of the utter silence in our large church sanctuary. When I opened my eyes after a few seconds, Lisa had moved over to give me a comforting hug.

Then, Father LeBeouf surprised everyone in the church when he said, “Now, if that song hasn’t put a spark in your soul like Mike related prior to singing it, you need to do a couple of things real quick. First, check to see if you are actually alive. Then, if you are alive, you may need to have a have a real ‘come-to-Jesus-session’, because that was nothing less than a Spirit-driven, blessing from our God.”

“Amen to that, Pastor,” Lynette quickly replied to Father LeBeouf’s statement. She obviously didn’t realize or remember that her voice would be amplified over the church’s sound system.

Right then, everyone in the church realized that my girlfriend wasn’t Catholic, as Spirit filled cries like she just made were VERY seldom made in Catholic churches. With all eyes suddenly on her, I quickly realized that Lynette wanted to find a hole to crawl into, and I immediately made my way towards her at Cheryl’s keyboards.

“That was definitely worth a forceful, ‘Amen‘, Ms. Lynette,” Father LeBeouf smartly said to my girlfriend and the congregation. “Sometimes I silently wish I’d hear a few more Spirit-led words from people, like at the Baptist or Pentecostal churches. That would let me know that the Words of God are getting through to my church members. So, Lynette, don’t be embarrassed for doing what the Lord inspires you to do. Okay?”

I smiled when some of my youth friends in the crowd shouted out a hearty, ‘Amen, Lynette’, which along with Father LeBeouf’s words put a smile back on my girlfriend’s face.

As the four of us started to make our way back to our seats, Father LeBeouf said, “Thanks, Mike, Lynette, Eda and Lisa for that special song this morning. The only bad part about it is I may have to redo my sermon to reemphasize some of the key points from your wonderful song.”

“That’s okay, Father Beef!” my high school friend, Ed Verwaayens shouted out. He then added, “Just don’t get overly long-winded with your new key points, please and thanks.”

A few folks chuckled at Ed’s statement and then Mr. Mike Germaine, a family friend who also plays on the church’s adult softball team and coaches the youth team, exclaimed, “Amen to that, Pastor!”

When the congregation’s laughter slowly died down, Father LeBeouf turned to Lynette and teasingly said to her, “This is what I get when I let a pretty Baptist girl participate in our church services.” He gave her a final wink, and then we were back to normal with our Sunday morning services.

After the church service ended, my friends gathered around Lynette, Eda, Lisa and I at the front of the church. Marianne Verwaayen, Ed’s oldest sister, asked, “Would you and Mike like to join us for some Timmy treats? A bunch of us are going to head over to Tim’s (Tim Horton Donuts) in a few minutes, and we’d love for you to come.”

I turned to Lynette and silently communicated that it was her decision on whether to join my friends from church or not. She scrunched up her face slightly and sadly said, “I normally would be jumping for joy to snag some Tim’s. However, I think I, we’ll have to pass this time because I’ve got a major science project I need to work on when I get home. I hope you believe and know that I really would love to go with you.”

“No probs, Lynette,” Anthony Masciotro said as his sisters both put their hands on the back of Lynette’s neck and gave her a small neck rub.

“Yeah, girl. I’ve probably got the same project due tomorrow, too. With Mr. Campbell, right?” Ed added.

“Yuppers. Tenth grade biology, contrasting sexual and asexual reproduction with detailed drawings of how the each happens,” Lynette groaned out.

“I’ve at least got most of my drawings done,” Ed stated in a semi-defeated tone of voice.

“You’re further along than me, then. That’s why I think its best if I pass on Tim’s to drop Mike off at his house, and then high-tail-it home to get cracking on that project.”

“Next time, for sure, then, Girlfriend,” Eda replied as our group of youth started to make their way towards the rear vestibule.

About half way up the outer aisle I noticed that Mike Germaine and his seventy-four-year-old mother, Ms. Patsy, were waiting for us at the rear of the sanctuary. I took a hold of Lynette’s hand and steered her over towards the forty-ish year-old man and his elderly mother.

“Mike, and Lynette, is it?” Ms. Patsy said as we stopped by them. “I’m Patsy Germaine, and I just wanted to let you know how much your Grace song ... how much it meant to me, this morning.”

“Thanks,” Lynette and I both replied at the same time.

“No, no. I want to tell you why it meant the world to me, today,” Ms. Patsy replied as she put her hand on Lynette’s right shoulder. “It was the spring of 1915, and I was eight-years-old. My father, Michael Smithson, was in Europe fighting against the Germans in World War One. My mother received a letter my father wrote to her on April 12 from near Ypres, Belgium. In that letter, my father related how he heard a few other soldiers one night singing Amazing Grace, and he realized that he truly needed Jesus in his life as he fought for his life and for his country. That night, my father wrote in his letter, that he gave his life to Jesus.”

“Amen to that, Ms. Germaine,” Lynette rightfully replied on hearing the good news regarding Ms. Patsy’s father.

“Amen, indeed, young lady,” Ms. Patsy said as she wiped a tear from under her right eye. “Well, on April 22, ten days after that wonderful song inspired my father to make that life-saving decision, he was killed at the Battle of Ypres when the Germans used chlorine gas on our Canadian soldiers.”

Ms. Patsy had to pause for a few moments to wipe a few more tears from her cheeks as she related how her heroic father was killed in battle. Lynette and I both had to wipe a few tears from our eyes as well, after hearing about Ms. Germaine’s father.

“Even though I’ve heard Amazing Grace sung countless times in my seventy-four-years of life, your variation of that song this morning seemed to carry me to Ypres, Belgium, and transformed me into my former eight-year-old girl form ... I then saw my dad listening and responding to that song’s incredible message. I, uh, I just wanted to thank you for that, and to tell you to keep on playing great music like that, because you never know who will be touched by it.”

“God is good, Ms. Patsy and Mike,” I said to the Germaines and leaned in to give Ms. Patsy a hug.

“All the time,” Lynette quickly added to my prior statement as most Baptists are prone to do. She then opened her arms up and accepted a hug from Mike Germaine, followed quickly by a hug from his mother.

“I don’t recall you telling that story before, Mom,” Mike Germaine said as the four of us moved towards the right side exit from the sanctuary.

“I’m sorry, Dear, but that isn’t something I’ve felt like sharing with anyone ... until that wonderful experience I felt as you kids were playing that song.” Ms. Patsy calmly said to your son, and us.

“I’m not upset, Mom. I just, there’s so little I know of Grandpa Smithson, and that was just remarkable to hear.”

“May be now, I’ll be able to share what few memories I have of my father with you. Remember, I was only eight when we got that letter, and then the letter from the War Office telling of his battlefield death.”

“Whatever memories you can share, Mom, that will be great,” Mike Germaine replied as he pulled his mother into his side as they made their way to the side exit.

“See you later, Mike, Ms. Germaine,” I said as Lynette and I moved over to where Eda and Lisa were standing. When we reached their position along the glassed wall, we all heard Father LeBeouf call, “Eda, Lisa, Mike and Lynette, can I talk with you for a minute, please?”

“Sure, Father Beef, what’s on your mind?” Eda replied as we quickly made our way to the hallway from the vestibule to Father LeBeouf’s residence.

“I just want to personally let you know that your performance in church this morning was truly amazing. Also, as I hung my vestments up in my closet, I felt a need to talk to you ... to say a prayer for all four of you, if you don’t mind.”

“No! Not at all, Father LeBeouf,” Lynette quickly replied and the rest of us nodded in agreement.

“Okay, then,” Father LeBeouf said and we all grasped hands and bowed our heads. Father LeBeouf then offered up this prayer, “Our gracious and loving Father in heaven, please accept our thanks for the blessings You’ve bestowed on these young kids, here, and please continue to bless them in ways that bring glory to Your Holy Name. Also, Father God, remain with them and strengthen them as they are about to experience challenges, which will tax them beyond their human capabilities. Only with You can these youngsters overcome the pending storms in their lives. Lastly, Father, keep Lisa, the youngest member of this wonderful musical group, safe and secure as I believe she will be the key person in their storms of life. I ask all this, through Your Son, Jesus. Amen.”

“Amen,” we all responded with varying degrees of confusion in our voices as we processed the words and their meaning in Father LeBeouf’s prayer.