Are there times when the saints in heaven unexpectedly follow us around? Do we notice their presence in finding their relics in unforeseen circumstances? Is it not surprising, then, when we experience the strength of their prayers during an adversity that same day?

I have such fond memories of listening to the late Father Benedict Groeschel speaking to us on the Sunday Night Live series from about 20 years ago on EWTN. “There are no coincidences,” was one of his favorite lines as he spoke about living as true Catholics. I really believe he was right as I recall the events of a recent pilgrimage I made to several holy sites in Europe, where I believe several of my favorite saints followed me around.

The focus of the pilgrimage was a study of the Blessed Mother, particularly her apparitions at Fatima, Lourdes, and in Paris, where she revealed the Miraculous Medal to St. Catherine Labouré. In between these Marian sites, we explored the lives of primarily Carmelite saints. Nevertheless, my devotion to St. Francis of Assisi and his followers surfaced unexpectedly and prominently in the encouragement they gave me as I completed what became a wonderfully insightful but unexpectedly arduous two-week journey.

Our pilgrimage began in Lisbon before we departed for Fatima. After an incredible tour of the beautiful city, we celebrated Mass at the church where St. Anthony of Padua was born. As a Secular Franciscan, I was overjoyed to find there not only first-class relics of St. Anthony, but also those of St. Francis, his contemporary St. Dominic, and the first Franciscan martyrs. While feeling so blessed to be among these holy men at the same time the tomb of St. Francis had been opened in Assisi, I had no idea how God was using these beloved saints as a cheering squad for me before returning to the hotel.

Glancing briefly at my phone before supper, I saw multiple notifications from my credit union showing that my credit card was being used fraudulently at least seven times within two minutes. Instead of spending the evening contemplating the history of the Franciscans, I was thrust into making what amounted to two hours’ worth of telephone calls back to the United States to resolve the situation.

While naturally shocked, I was given the grace to deal patiently with everything involved. Thank you especially to St. Francis, and many thanks to all the other Franciscans in the Church Triumphant for their prayers at that time, although I remain grateful for the human support of my traveling companions. And there was a special feeling of warmth from Mary our Mother the following evening as our group took part in the procession of the Marian statue at Fatima.

As a mother, Mary was there for all of us, as my friend and traveling companion learned after the procession that her brother had suffered cardiac arrest following complications from surgery. We are grateful for the strength of Fatima, which sustained us at that time. Other issues also arose, requiring both my friend and me to respond to messages from the United States: very high winds in Indiana knocked down a tree at my home, which thankfully didn’t hit anything, but it had to be removed immediately from the neighbor’s yard.

And yet, I believe God was stretching us further to grow in our trust and love for him. During our last day at Lourdes, we visited a monastery of the Poor Clare nuns there. It was a special moment for me to grow closer in silent prayer at the chapel there with my spiritual father and mother, Francis and Clare. Shortly afterward, there was a third financial dilemma requiring another call to my credit union back in the States. But the Franciscan encouragement from above was intensified by a talk from our group leader on the spirituality of the friar St. Maximilian Kolbe.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I offered up my suffering to the Blessed Mother for whoever needed it the most. Wasn’t I supposed to come to Lourdes to be healed of some problem? Or had I come with a slight entitlement mentality? Yes, it really was greater to give than to receive. As I walked through the one-room house of St. Bernadette’s family, I realized that my temporary lack of access to money was nothing compared to what her family offered to God. And did I really need to know who benefited from my offerings and prayers, even intensified by a fall in the shower that evening brought on by fatigue?

Badly bruised but thankfully with nothing broken, I continued on with our group as my traveling companion tried to stay informed about her brother’s health through messages with her family. In Paris that next day, we were overjoyed at seeing the wide arms of Jesus stretched out to us from atop Sacré-Cœur Basilica. Although I had visited the basilica before, I had never noticed the two statues at the entrance depicting two Secular Franciscans on horseback: St. Louis IX and my confirmation saint, St. Joan of Arc. They became my next cheering squad. I was going to make it through this pilgrimage and through whatever else life might throw at me.

I had to ask myself: Was my pain really as great as what my father had experienced on D-Day in 1944 at our next stop on the beaches of Normandy? Why should I not also be tested, as he and so many other very young men were made to do years ago? I was even more deeply touched by their sacrifice for freedom.

Our last day of travel was in Paris, when my traveling companion’s brother died while we were in Notre Dame Cathedral. Mary had her arms around my dear friend as she was asked to give up another sibling in less than a year. That afternoon, when we completed our pilgrimage at the site of the Miraculous Medal, my friend was also surrounded by the love of some of her favorite saints, including the incorrupt body of St. Vincent de Paul, the final stop of our pilgrimage.

Cynics will call all of these occurrences mere coincidences. But I know from their healing effects that we were helped, through the power of God, to love others more unselfishly. The times we are living in are troublesome, but they are also an opportunity to grow closer to Christ by imitating his sacrificial love. Thank you, Blessed Mother, for leading the way in our spiritual transformation so that we may become even more like your Son!