Carried in mysterious ways

Carried in mysterious ways
Darragh McGann
Darragh McGann describes how a year of loss and illness brought him back to God

With the exception of two years, I have lived all of my life at home with my mother. My dad died before I reached the age of six and having been adopted as a baby, I didn’t have brothers or sisters, it was just Mum and me. What I did have though growing up was tremendous family and also a very strong faith. I served as an altar boy for eight years in the cathedral and it came as no surprise to anyone when I decided to enter seminary straight from school to train to be a priest.

Sadly, that endeavour only lasted one year as I just felt it wasn’t for me at the time. A few years later I was sponsored by my diocese to go back to college to study a Diploma in Sacred Liturgy. This was a year I absolutely loved and the dream of been able to both teach and do liturgy when I would come home was something that really drove me forward.

Graduated

Having successfully graduated, I returned home to my mum but that was it. No one came knocking on my door and in many ways I became depressed both with life and with the Church.

Knowing that I needed to get out there in the world to earn a living, I decided to go driving taxis, which I continued to do for the next 20 years. There were frequent early mornings and late nights and while at the end of each year I would make the resolution to do something different, I didn’t.

I stuck at it as I really didn’t believe that I could make a go of anything else.

I would think about the two years I spent away from home in college and thought that perhaps I had failed in some way and now no one would want me doing anything different than drive a taxi. My music was always very important to me and my faith had been too, but I allowed the job to control my life and I have no doubt that I did miss out on many opportunities over those years.

I became very miserable in myself and began to blame God for not doing more for me. It got so bad that for a time I packed up praying and going to Mass. I just thought that if God won’t help me, then why should I bother.

I often read that famous piece called ‘Footprints’ about how, when at your lowest, it was God who carried you. I did love that story but I never believed in it, well not until August of last year.

For the past 14 years, mum and I had a little dog called Charlie. He was most certainly a huge part of our family and whenever either of us needed a friend, he was always there. For me, he was like the brother I always wanted and never had and he was the greatest critic of music I have ever known.

Office

He would sit in the office with me when I would write music and then when I would sing it to him, if he liked it he would lick my foot and if he didn’t, well he would have raised the dead with his barking!

In late August, Charlie became very ill, almost overnight. I spent many hours crying over him, trying to do what was right for him and even in his weakest moments, he would look into my eyes.

The morning mum and I got called to the vets as Charlie was very weak, I shall never forget how he gave me one last kiss and as he looked into my eyes, I thought about all the loved ones I have said goodbye to and how I always found comfort and strength in prayer and in God to get me through the following days.

In a very deep way I knew in my heart that Charlie was ready to go and to this day I believe he is alive and well again in Heaven and that he will be always looking over me. That very evening, when Charlie passed away, I returned to actually attending Mass. Two days later, mum and I went to Knock, and I went to confession for the first time in years.

As the weeks passed by following Charlie’s passing, I began to feel very unwell. I had been experiencing panic and anxiety attacks, but became aware of a numbness in my fingers which quickly spread to my arm and then a large part of my upper body. Having presented to the hospital, nobody was telling me anything definitive and this worried me even more.

My symptoms got worse to the point I was losing the sight in my right eye. Again, I couldn’t find anyone in the hospital who would tell me what was going on and finally I was admitted to the Bon Secours Hospital. From the moment I walked in and saw the Chapel there before me, somehow I knew I was in the right place.

The doctors agreed to take over my case and assured me they would look after me, but it would be the next day before they would have a full diagnosis.

When awaiting a diagnosis, so many things go through your mind and the majority of those thoughts are negative filled with fear and worry. I began to think it might be the end of the road. I was so worried that first night that at about 4am, I visited the chapel and alone in there, I began to speak out loud firstly to the Lord, asking for his help.

Medical team

Then I turned to my late uncle John, who had served as a priest with the Holy Ghost Congregation in America and was like a father to me. I used to serve his Masses when he was home and I called on him to help me and not to leave me alone. I returned to my room some time later but decided to attend Mass at 11am before meeting my medical team.

I fell asleep on the bed, however, and only the ringing of the bell to announce that the Eucharistic Minister was arriving actually woke me. But when I opened my eyes, standing there before me, I could see my uncle, wearing the vestments of Our Lady of Guadalupe with the Blessed Sacrament in his hand. It was of course the minister, but for a moment it was my uncle I could see.

After I received communion, my medical team came to talk to me. I felt a huge grace and strength right there and then and I knew, deep down I was ready to face whatever was coming.

The doctor sat on my bed and confirmed to me that I had MS and while I cried like a baby, he assured me it wasn’t the end of the road; both he and his team would look after me and the prognosis, however life changing, was positive. After he left, I went directly to the chapel and I thanked both the Lord and my uncle for looking after me and for carrying me when I could not walk.

Speaking to me later, one of the nurses said she thought the loss of Charlie in many ways had led to this. The grief and upset that I had been experiencing had brought on the attacks and symptoms which led to a very early diagnosis. My faith had been firmly restored.

After last year I entered 2017 with one just one certain resolution: to keep my Faith and love of God at the centre of everything I will do. Yes, there will be life changes and I welcome them. Yes, I want now to focus more on my music and my desire to bringhHope to others in times of worry and distress. Yes, I need to get fit and look after myself but I now know and perhaps even when I doubted I still knew, that I can never go it alone.

And even when I thought I was alone, I also know that God was always there with me, just waiting for me to come back to him again. Sometimes his guiding light is right in front of us, but we have become so blinded that we fail to see it. My prayer and hope for 2017 is that we shall all see that Light in front of us and whenever we feel we can’t go on, just close our eyes and know that it is then that the Lord is carrying us.

 Darragh McGann is a singer/songwriter from Cobh who has appeared on such TV shows as Britain’s Got Talent, The Voice and Seoige on RTÉ.