This booklet from bestselling author Fr. Michael G... Read more
A Promise of Divine Mercy Fulfilled
By Jenny Cosby (Oct 22, 2014)
The message was waiting on our answering machine when we got home on Nov. 4, 2010:
I found James collapsed on the floor, the EMTS revived him and took him to the transplant hospital. I don't know if he'll make it. Please call me when you get this.
When we called Skye back he was in a cab on the way to the hospital.
This is a story of Jesus, the Divine Mercy, saving a dying homosexual man who lived a life of so much emotional and physical pain.
When he was a child, James was sexually abused by a stranger. As an adult, he was basically disowned by his family because of his homosexuality. He also had advanced diabetes and liver disease. He and his partner, Skye, had been together in a monogamous relationship for more than 20 years. At times homeless — Skye is disabled — the two of them managed to buy a small house about a mile from a Catholic convent. Even though he wasn't Catholic, James, who was crippled by diabetic sores on his feet, would use his walker to get to the convent every Sunday and sit in the back of the chapel for Mass. When I asked him about it, he said that he found peace there.
They moved from that house to one closer to downtown, closer to their doctors. By then, James' health had begun to deteriorate. He was hospitalized with a heart attack. His infected foot sores nearly resulted in amputation. He pulled through that but was unable to work. He and Skye lost the house and moved to an efficiency apartment.
During this time I gave James a red and white rosary and a couple of Divine Mercy pamphlets. I told him God's mercy was inexhaustible and that He worked miracles through devotion to His mercy.
Soon after, James called me one morning, which was very rare because he was a very shy man who, along with everything else, suffered from the anxiety disorder agoraphobia.
"Mrs. Cosby," he said, excitedly, "Jesus heard me. He really heard me."
I said "Slow down, James, and tell me what happened."
"I have been saying the chaplet," he said, "but today when I was saying it, I told Jesus how desperate I was feeling over a bill I couldn't pay and was afraid of ruining my credit and being taken to court." He went on to say that after he had confided in the Lord, he went back to checking whatever money they had available and found the exact amount he needed put away in a forgotten place. He was happy about the money but overjoyed that God had heard and answered him.
As he got sicker, I gave him a ride to the doctors, and as we talked he reiterated how he had come to trust in Jesus' Divine Mercy. One of the things he said was, "When you are this sick, you think about death a lot and you look past this life. And I don't know what others might believe, but I believe in Jesus with all my heart."
Back to Nov. 4, 2010: My husband and I arrived at the hospital. I had asked him to hurry because I had a feeling that James was not going to pull through this latest medical setback. As we entered the critical care unit we heard someone say "Code Blue," and people were rushing to a cubicle.
"It's James, I know it is," I said.
Sure enough, when we checked at the nurse's station and explained who we were there to see, the nurse said, "I'm sorry, that's him" and pointed to the cubicle.
The doctors were working over James. There was a tube pumping blood out where he was hemorrhaging and a bag transfusing blood back into him. He was hooked to a ventilator. Skye was crying. A female Protestant minister was trying to comfort Skye and lend him support.
The preacher called James' mother on the phone and told her that James was in critical condition and urged her to come right over. She said no, that she wasn't well and couldn't come. The conversation ended there. I saw the doctor take off his gloves and call "TOD" (time of death). James had died. But then the machine started beeping again. He came back!
The minister called his family again and said, "You don't understand, he may be dying, and this is probably your last chance to see your son." James' mother replied that she was old, blind, and crippled and couldn't come but that she would send James' sister in a cab. When the preacher started to hang up, I told her to ask James' mother if he had ever been baptized. God bless her, she yelled "Wait!" and asked his mom the question. She replied, "No, he never was." I asked the minister to get me a glass of water and she asked what I was going to do. I replied, "Baptize him. I know it's what he would want."
She sent for water, and they brought it. James was unconscious, and I knew he wouldn't feel it. I pushed in among the doctors, put water on his head, made the sign of the cross, and said, "James, I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost," and I moved back.
His sister arrived and sat by him for a long time, talking to him and making peace. She explained to us that their mother had just lost another son and that there had been such an estrangement with James.
About this time I asked the minister where a bathroom was so that I could wash out my contact lenses, which were getting dry. She told me to go back to the nurse's station and the bathroom was right past it.
The next part of the miracle of Divine Mercy began. I turned the corner of the nurse's station and stopped. There in front of me was the new priest assigned as pastor of our parish. I had only met him a couple of times, and you couldn't say I knew him well. But I cried, "Father Martin!" and he looked shocked and said "Mrs. Cosby, what are you doing here? What's wrong?" As quickly as I could, I explained about James, that he was a gay friend that had found Jesus, believed wholeheartedly in Divine Mercy and was dying, and that I had just baptized him. Would he please come and say a prayer for him?
The first question he asked was "Are you sure he wasn't baptized?" I told him that the minister had the mother on the phone and she confirmed it. He said, "In that case, I will do more than say a prayer for him; I will give him the Last Rites as you have just baptized him Catholic."
He went to Skye and James' sister and explained what he was about to do. Along with them and the Protestant minister, my husband Joe and myself, he asked us to join hands around the bed, and after administering the Last Rites, he asked us to pray the "Our Father" for James.
Afterwards, Fr. Martin said that he thought it was a real miracle that we had witnessed because he was only there at the behest of a friend to see someone he didn't know personally. He said he was just turning to leave when I called out to him. The timing was miraculous.
I went back and kissed James on the forehead and told him to dream his way into heaven, and at 4 a.m. he died.
This is a testimony to the Divine Mercy of our Savior Jesus Christ. We who saw this believe that a miracle occurred in response to James' faith in Divine Mercy and his saying the Divine Mercy Chaplet. I know that James died three times: Once at his apartment or in the ambulance; once just before the doctor called "TOD"; and then, finally, after he was baptized and anointed by a Catholic priest and commended to the suffering and glorified Lord, that He may raise James up and save him.
Jenny Cosby lives in San Antonio, Texas.