Before Crossing the Threshold (Mary’s Version)

My reaction to Lizz’s suggestion of going on a pilgrimage with her was not a novelty, it felt almost second nature, a natural continuation of our adventures in faith. As soon as the words appeared on my phone, I was enthusiastic and texted “sounds perfect” without a moment’s pause or even a breath.

Growing up in Northwest Ohio, I was privileged to have a national shrine practically in my backyard. The Basilica of Our Lady of Consolation in Carey, Ohio has been a sacred place for  me from my earliest years. Over time, especially after attending several intense retreats there, it became more like my spiritual home. It’s my refuge, the place I turn to when I need peace, comfort, belonging, hope for miracles, or simply to feel held and consoled.

I’ve ventured inside and outside that basilica at all hours of the day and night. And every time, I feel the gentle presence of Our Lady and the merciful embrace of her Son. The idea of discovering more places that could offer that same profound sense of solace and spiritual connection was not just appealing—it felt necessary.

Next thing I knew, Lizz was showing me an interactive document of our pilgrimage. She had found all the places—and I mean all of them. I was excited to journey with a prayerful purpose to the Shrine of Our Lady of Champion, the only Church-approved Marian apparition site in the United States. I had never even heard of it until we read the book we’d chosen for Lent. I was dumbfounded that I had never known such a place existed.

Undertaking this spiritual journey—a journey with purpose—inspired me to prepare in a more meaningful and challenging way. I had read True Devotion to Mary by St. Louis de Montfort back in college. At the time, I only read it superficially, but even then, it left a lasting impression on me. Now, feeling called to revisit it with greater devotion, I decided to commit to reading it again—this time, fully and intentionally.

Lizz—who often helps ground me and provide direction (being the amazing teacher she is!)—guided me toward the right approach: not just reading, but preparing for the full consecration to Mary. (Thanks, Lizz!)

We chose July 13th as our start date for the 33-day preparation—just one day before leaving for our trip—so that our consecration would fall on the feast of the Assumption. (Which is a very important feast day at Our Lady of Consolation in Carey, Ohio) 

The Day Before Day 1 of Pilgrimage

With less than 24 hours until departure, I found myself with a sense of something deep and still, both within and all around me.

Words fail.

Any attempt to name the emotions or capture the atmosphere would diminish what was truly taking place. It wasn’t anxiety.
It wasn’t emotion.
It wasn’t concern.
It wasn’t even expectation.

It was something else entirely—something quieter, yet more present.

I was simply already in the moment.

The moment where I realized the threshold of hope was not far away.
It was in the very next footsteps I would take.

Lizz and I decided to have our families attend Mass together that Sunday. We felt it was important not only to spend the first day of our consecration preparation together, but also to be a visible sign—for our children—of the importance of the journey we were about to undertake, and to share that moment especially with our husbands. What made that day particularly impactful was the homily, which spoke about journeys and how to move forward with hope. As an added grace, we were delighted to see one of our coworkers—who doesn’t usually attend that parish—sitting a few pews behind us. We felt surrounded by immediate signs that what we were about to do was both purposeful and meaningful.

After Mass, our two families gathered for a meal at our favorite local Greek diner. We sat together around one table, our children laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The owner, with his paternal Greek accent, smiled at me and said, “It is good to see more young people here.” His words stayed with me.

That theme—how good it is to see young people—echoed throughout our pilgrimage. At every stop, Lizz and I noticed and appreciated the presence of younger adults and children. It gave us hope and reminded us that the faith we cherish is alive and growing in the next generation.

Sharing this time with our families was essential to our journey. It grounded us, reminded us of why we began, and offered a perfect way to spend our final days before crossing that threshold.