It took many more years for me to embrace the peculiar way in which God can "breeze in and out" of our lives ever so gently and usually more powerfully than a mighty wind, an earthquake, or a fierce fire. Now, every time I read this narrative about Elijah, I am aware of yet another "gentle breeze" memory that I had forgotten until then.

This time it was the memory of the day when a gentle breeze of the Spirit snuffed out my last cigarette after 45 years of smoking.

It was not the first time I had tried to stop. I had already done the Smoke Stoppers Program at the local hospital twice. The first time, I lasted three weeks; the second time, six months.

But this second time I was under the mighty hand of a well-known faith healer, so I was expecting a miracle. I was expecting the Lord to personally call me out of the boat of my addiction for a walk on the water.

No such luck. Faith was no more successful than Smoke Stoppers had been, and I was back on the "weed" in less than 48 hours, and I never tried to stop again until almost ten years later.

On that day I came to my spiritual director, himself an avid smoker of many years but long-since smoke free, and told him I would like to stop smoking. I was surprised at his response: "Go to the statue of Our Lady of Combermere every day and tell her of your desire and then let it be. She will pick the time and place."

Well, I wasn’t very enthusiastic about his "Smoke Stopper Program," but I trusted him. So I went each day to the statue of Our Lady of Combermere, told her my desire to stop smoking, and then went back to work – often with a cigarette in hand. (How’s that for faith-healing!)

Time passed and except for my daily visit to Our Lady of Combermere, I would probably have forgotten I had ever wanted to quit smoking. And then about a year later two gentle breezes came together in a mighty wind. Before the sun set, I knew this was the day I had been waiting for, but I would have missed it if I hadn’t gone to Our Lady of Combermere every day for almost a year.

The first breeze? Here at Madonna House people bring or send us the things they no longer can use or no longer need and wish to share with others. We get truck loads!

That day I was helping to sort some book donations and suddenly there in my hand was a book about the exact hospital program I had taken many years ago to help people stop smoking! I had taken it twice, and now I knew that this was the time to do it again.

But a little voice was stirring in me reminding me that I needed some deeper reason than just wanting to stop smoking if I was going to actually stop this time. But what?

So far nothing else had been reason enough: not all those horrible pictures of people dying of various forms of cancer, not seeing people gasping for air with emphysema, not clothing smelling like ham smoking in an oven. So, what was my reason going to be this time?

The second breeze? I went to Our Lady of Combermere and talked it over with her. Nothing! As I turned to walk away from the statue in a kind of faith-funk, I met one of our nurses.

She asked me for a blessing, so I went back with her to Our Lady to pray together. When I asked her what she wanted to pray for, she was so exhausted she couldn’t answer me.

All she could do was weep. So we just wrapped our arms together around the statue of Our Lady and prayed silently for a while. Then I blessed her and we went our separate ways.

As I walked away it was almost like I heard a gentle voice asking me, "Are you aware that your future medical condition caused by your smoking will make incredible demands on your brothers and sisters? Is that how you love them?"

Well, two little breezes became a mighty wind: suddenly, in a single day, I had both the desire and the motive to stop smoking. And I did. That was almost fifteen years ago.

There are indeed such holy things as faith-healing. I have seen it and experienced it. But even though they are exceptional, we often misread them because we miss the fact that they are only beginnings.

Like when Peter walked on the water: a dazzling miraculous experience but nothing like the one after the resurrection at the lakeside when Christ asked him, in the most awesome, gentle way, three times, "Simon, do you love me?" I myself would much rather hear those words from Christ than walk on the water with him.

The gentle breeze that made it possible for me to finally stop smoking at that specific time in my life was very simple: it had to do with love. I had never thought of it that way before.

Yet it all happened in that peculiar fashion of going to Our Lady of Combermere for so long until I was ready. Not for a miracle on the spot, but for simply being there for my sister at the time when she needed someone to listen to her heart.

And it was in the listening to her heart that I was able to hear the gentle breeze of the Spirit which would heal my own. Strange!

Over the years I have ceased to think of this Elijah narrative in terms of, "been there, done that, bought that tee-shirt." Now whenever I desire the miraculous, the extraordinary, I step back into the cave of faith and immediately call upon Elijah to stand with me and teach me how to listen for the gentle breeze of the Spirit as he did.

Yes, St. Elijah, pray for all of us, whatever our deepest unfulfilled need might be. And thank you, dear friend, for praying for me. See you in the cave!

PS. But I still kinda hope that I can have a cigarette when I get to heaven! OK, God?