CMO 96: Episode 3: When Grandma Hushed Me

 

Today on Coffee Break Catholic: Carlos’ Coffee Confessionals

- Episode 3: When Grandma Hushed Me

- Saintly Sip, “GPS” by Deacon Ken Saveth with commentary by Carlos Michael

Listening Time: 11m, 34s

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Loafers, Rosaries, and Reverence

Before Carlos knew silence as sacred, he knew it as a confused pause—usually between his nonstop chatter and his grandmother’s very intentional eyes. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t raise her blood pressure. But she did raise a hand—and somehow, that was louder than any words Carlos could’ve said.

In this episode, we travel back to the crisp click of church loafers, the hum of pre-Mass anticipation, and one unforgettable hush that taught Carlos reverence without a single syllable. If you've ever learned grace from someone with a purse full of rosaries and the wisdom of quiet moments, this story’s for you.

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Episode 3: When Grandma Hushed Me

I was eight. Maybe nine. Dressed in my Sunday finest—navy blazer, clip-on tie, and loafers that clicked too loud for someone as short as I was. We had just arrived at church, a full ten minutes before Mass, which back then was what respectable Catholics did.

My grandmother, a woman whose purse weighed more than most housecats and contained at least three rosaries at all times, slid into the pew with precision. She genuflected like she meant it—slow, deliberate, with a whispered prayer that only God could hear.

Me? I followed behind like an enthusiastic duckling. Except I had things to say.

“Grandma, guess what—Brenda dropped the Jell-O in class and it went everywhere, even on Sister Mary’s shoes—” I chattered as I flopped into my seat.

That’s when it happened.

Not a slap. Not a scold. Just… the hand.

She raised it—not in warning, but in blessing. Two fingers, soft as feathers, pressed gently against her lips. And her eyes—oh, those eyes—tilted toward the altar as if to say, He’s already here.

Then she bowed her head and folded her hands.

I sat there, stunned. Not ashamed, not even upset—just suddenly aware. Aware that something bigger than me was happening in that quiet. That my story could wait. That maybe, just maybe, silence had something to say too.

I didn’t fully understand it then. But I felt it.

I watched the flicker of candles. I listened to the pages of missals rustling. I noticed people praying—not like they were checking a box, but like they were entering another room. A room where God lived.

That was the day I learned the sacred art of holy hush.

Years later, I still feel it—whenever I kneel and whisper nothing but presence. I still hear her fingers brushing her lips. And sometimes, when I sit in a pew early and someone nearby starts catching up on lasagna recipes and high school reunions, I smile and remember:

It’s not that God minds your voice. It’s that sometimes… He’s waiting to speak first.

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The Echo That Still Whispers

Carlos never forgot the softness of her fingertips, the way silence filled the pew like incense, or how he sat still—not from punishment, but out of awe. That holy hush became a melody he still hums whenever he enters a sanctuary, lights a candle, or simply needs a moment to remember Who’s already present.

So, if you see someone sitting quietly before Mass, don’t ask why they’re early. They’re not waiting for something to start. They’re listening for Who’s already speaking.

Until next time, may your loafers be quiet, your soul be hushed, and your grandma’s gentle wisdom live on.

Your Sunday Coffee Confessional Narrator

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Saintly Sip Intro

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Intro: From Folded Maps to Faithful Guidance

Ah yes, the good ol’ days—when navigating meant unfolding a map the size of a bedsheet, squinting at street signs, and praying you didn’t make a left into a cornfield. Traveling anywhere after sunset practically required divine intervention. But now? Turn-by-turn directions arrive like manna from the algorithmic heavens. And while GPS makes road trips simpler, our spiritual journey needs something stronger—something eternal. Enter God’s Positioning System. No batteries, no buffering, just grace-powered guidance to the only destination that truly matters.

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Back in the day, it was always a stressful experience when you were trying to find a particular place or address, and you had your map sprawled out across the steering wheel!

 Was I supposed to take a left at the stop sign…or a right? Or maybe it was to go straight, and then turn at the red brick building? Those were the days, eh? There was no telling when you might arrive at your destination…ESPECIALLY if it was at night!

Today it is exponentially easier as we all have a GPS (Global Positioning System) either in our cars or on our Smart Phones. We just type in where we want to go, activate the filters that we want (things like the fact that we want the quickest route, the best route without tolls, etc.),, press “start”, and AI voice gives us turn-by-turn directions getting us to our destination without a hitch, or map-reading anxiety.

But how about when our destination CANNOT be entered into a smart device? When our “destination” is our Eternal Salvation and the Pearly Gates of Heaven?

Rest assured…we can STILL use GPS to get us there…God’s Positioning System! Just like a GPS guides us on roads, God’s Positioning System offers us spiritual direction, clarity, and course corrections on the road to holiness! Whereas GPS relies on satellites, God’s Positioning System is powered by grace…communicated by scripture, the teachings of the Church, the sacraments, and our personal prayer. It is a divine compass, that orients our hearts towards TRUE NORTH, that is, God’s will rather than our own desires.

And when we veer “off course” through our sin or poor decisions, divine “re-routing” allows us to “re-calculate” back to the right path through repentance and reconciliation. We don’t need to see the whole map to trust the next turn. God’s Positioning System requires faith; not in a screen or a signal; but in a loving Father who is more interested in our destination (Heaven) than in our detours.

And unlike man-made GPS, God never loses a signal.

God Bless you all,

Deacon Ken

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Outro: Trusting the Divine Route

We’ve come a long way from paper maps and panicked U-turns—but the path to holiness? It still requires recalculations, grace-fueled detours, and unwavering faith in the One leading the way. When our route feels uncertain, remember: God’s Positioning System doesn’t rely on signal strength—it relies on surrender. So keep moving forward, stay prayerfully plugged in, and trust that the final destination is already marked on the divine map.

Safe travels—and sacred ones too. Amen and onward.

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☕️ Carlos Caffeinated Two-Cent Opinion

"The Divine GPS That Doesn’t Ask You to Update Your Software"

A Respectful Roast and Riff on Deacon Ken’s ‘Saintly Sip’

First off—props to Deacon Ken. The man managed to take the terrifying memory of steering-wheel maps, nighttime guess-turns, and back-alley wrong ways and turn it into a spiritual metaphor. I can still feel the anxiety of those old-school map days—one hand on the wheel, the other trying to re-fold the Texas highway system without blocking the air vent. The trauma is real.

Nowadays, I just let my GPS tell me which left turn I ignored and when it’ll passive-aggressively re-route me without asking how I feel about it. Technology: 1. Pride: 0.

But here’s where Deacon Ken really hit the sweet spot—when he pivoted to God’s Positioning System. And yes, I audibly nodded. Because unlike my phone, God doesn’t need a signal booster, doesn’t send you into toll lane purgatory, and certainly doesn’t burn through your battery faster than a toddler watching YouTube.

Divine GPS? You better believe it. Scripture, sacraments, and those little nudges in your spirit that say, “Maybe don’t send that text. You need Jesus and a nap.” That’s God’s signal working overtime.

And the rerouting? Absolutely real. I’ve made some spiritual U-turns that felt more like confession with GPS recalibration. “Turn around now.” Thank you, Holy Spirit. And while my earthly GPS makes me feel judged for missing an exit, God just says, “Let’s try again—but with grace this time.”

So yeah, I loved this Sip. It reminded me that heaven doesn’t require Waze or a charging cable—just a heart that's open, a faith that’s not on airplane mode, and a willingness to admit you missed your exit. Again.

Until next time, I’ll be navigating life with caffeine in one hand and grace in the other. And thank goodness, God’s Wi-Fi never drops.