The Secret of Fatima Read Online Free PDF Page B

many different kinds of creatures on earth, but He gave free will only to one of them: man. Animals could be trained, but they couldn’t make decisions; they acted only on instinct. An animal wasn’t equipped to distinguish right from wrong. Animals were simple, followed their God-given instincts. Man, on the other hand, made choices. A great gift, but one that came with heavy responsibilities. In God’s eyes, we are accountable for the choices we make.
    Over time, Kevin knew he’d made some questionable choices. On active duty in the U.S. Army, he’d killed a man. He was following the orders of his army commanders, but had he the right to take a life? At the time, he’d thought he had, and that God was supporting him. But he was young. Following the army dictates seemed enough. Later, he realized there were other ways to see the issue. Others would question what he’d done.
    While on active duty, if he saw evil in a man, he’d go after him—even kill—with impunity. He had little or no guilt regarding his actions; felt no remorse. He often wondered why. He wasn’t sure. He was following orders.
    And then he’d think, Hey, Kevin, who are you, acting both as judge and jury? Well, no, he wasn’t the judge and jury. But some evils were self-evident. Case in point: the rapist of a young girl. In the army, he’d killed a man for raping a girl in Iraq. Later, he’d chastised himself. He’d come to terms with his God-given free will. He’d made a choice to kill the man. The peanut gallery talked about his having an anger management problem. Yeah, maybe.
    One day, in church attending Mass at Holy Trinity in Georgetown, he was in a pew directly in front of a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She wore her standard blue robe and was holding the infant Jesus in her arms. Gazing at the statue, he was transfixed. Staring back at him, she morphed into flesh and blood, and he heard her message. Never had he shared this mystical occurrence with anyone. Who would believe it?
    Kevin awakened from a state of reverie to focus on the matter at hand. Getting ready to go to Rome, he decided to wear jeans and a black sweater on the plane. He wanted to be comfortable and not draw attention to himself. He packed his priestly garb and a civilian suit. He retrieved his passport from his desk, ensured his iPad had reading material, and packed the leather breviary his parents had given him upon his ordination. He was ready.
    Minutes later, Katie pulled up in her new red BMW convertible, a longtime temptation she’d weakened for, thanks to last year’s bonus at her law firm. She signaled her presence with two quick beeps. Kevin grabbed his bags, looked around the apartment one last time for anything he might have forgotten, locked the door, and went downstairs.
    Was this trip to Rome tied to his calling? Kevin had trained as a priest as thousands of other Jesuits had done. Yet he was unique. He was a priest who’d mastered the military skills of cold-blooded combat, expert marksmanship, espionage and deception, cool-headedness in the face of danger, and the ability to kill as necessary. Even with these unusual skills and training, at his core he was proud to serve God as priest, whether in a schoolyard, or in a fight for world order. It was complicated, this duality. As a priest, he practiced humility before God. As a soldier, well, the opposite. There were intrinsic conflicts. Now, as he rolled his suitcase behind him, he was reflecting on these irregularities, bouncing the suitcase down the stairs.
    â€œYou bought this beauty with a stick shift instead of an automatic?” Kevin said, after climbing in. Pressing on the pedal, Katie zoomed onto the Beltway surrounding Washington. Along the horizon, the sun was setting in vivid reds and yellows.
    â€œI like to drive,” Katie answered without taking her eyes off the road. Having just come from the office, she was