GENUINE VS Practicing Brown Scapular, wonder behind it!

Today my heart is full of a strange, tender mix of feelings—joy and quiet longing, gratitude and a gentle, determined patience. It is the Feast Day of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, a day I have looked forward to for so long, and every part of it has spoken to me in ways I cannot fully put into words, but which my soul understands perfectly.

After the beautiful Mass this morning, our parish distributed brown scapulars to everyone who came forward to receive them. I took one respectfully, as is custom, and I am thankful for the thought and devotion behind the gift. But as I held it in my hands, I noticed right away what I had already learned from all the time I have spent studying the requirements of this holy devotion: this scapular is made of fleece fabric, not 100% pure wool. It is a blend, soft and easy to make, but it does not meet the ancient standards the Church has kept for centuries—standards I searched carefully and thoroughly online, verifying every detail to make sure I would honor this sacred promise the right way.

And then I thought of the stack resting safely in my room: more than fifty scapulars I have gathered, each one made of genuine 100% merino wool, exactly as the tradition requires. They are not yet finished; I still need to sew every edge carefully, and tie each one to strong cords at both ends, so they are worthy of being worn as a sign of our commitment to Our Lady. But even half-completed, I already know they are true and authentic—not just because of what I have read, but because of what I experienced when I brought them to be blessed by a priest.

I will never forget that moment. As the priest began the blessing, the deep calm I usually carry turned into something brighter, something alive. I felt my spirit rise, higher and higher, as if lifted up by wings. It was as if the Holy Spirit itself was rejoicing within these small pieces of wool—like they were jumping with joy, happy to be set apart for God’s work and for the love of Our Lady. When I first opened the cloth wrapping them after the blessing, my whole body trembled gently, an intense quivering that was not fear, but awe. A cold, soft sweat came over me, yet my mind was clearer than it has ever been, as if I had been asleep for years and suddenly woke up. It felt as though something deep inside my soul, long quiet, had been stirred to life. That is how I know—without a single doubt—that these scapulars are blessed, and true, and pleasing to God.

For a long time now, I have been working on a project I call Sharing the Oil of Divine Mercy. Each small package is meant to be a gift of faith, something tangible to help others draw closer to God’s love. Inside each one, I plan to place a pocket-sized image of the Divine Mercy, a simple guide on how to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet, a small booklet of prayers, a rosary with instructions on how to pray it, and a little bottle of anointing oil for healing. And now, by God’s grace, I will add one of these authentic, blessed brown scapulars, along with a guide explaining the devotion and the promises of Our Lady. I want to give these to my fellow devotees here in our church, to share the blessings I have been given, and to help everyone grow deeper in their faith.

But as much as my heart is eager to finish every single one, I must walk slowly for now. My funds have run short, and there are still materials and supplies I need to buy to complete each set properly. I cannot rush, and I cannot force what is not yet ready. At first, a small sadness tried to settle in my heart—why must I wait? Why can I not give everything at once? But then the words of Scripture came to me, clear and warm as sunlight:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

— Galatians 6:9

And again:

“Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.”

— James 1:12

These words wrapped around me like a cloak. This waiting is not a hindrance—it is part of the work. It teaches me patience, it deepens my trust, and it reminds me that everything done for God is built step by step, in faith. I will be as wise and careful as I can with what I have, and take each day as it comes. I will sew each edge with prayer, and prepare every item with love, believing that the Lord will provide what I need, when I need it.

Today, as I honor Our Lady of Mount Carmel, I place all these efforts into her hands. May she bless this work, and may every scapular, every prayer card, and every drop of oil be a channel of grace to all who receive it. I do not know exactly when I will finish, but I know this: I will not grow tired. I will keep going, one small step at a time, for the harvest will surely come, in God’s perfect time.

Until Next Time,

Yuna